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merrywaanderer · 9 months

Text

a rainy night on whickber street

aziraphale + crowley

synopsis: a soft little drabble, inspired by neil's admission that aziraphale doesn't know that crowley now lives in his car

warnings: n/a

word count: 2k

a/n: i've written a happy little fic to heal your hearts (and mine...), so hopefully, this has its intended effect. set during s2, but entirely spoiler free, as far as i can tell :')

⭒

It was raining on Whickber Street.

Aziraphale was a self-proclaimed enjoyer of rain, finding that some things were simply sweeter against the backdrop of a grey sky, with a soft musical pitter patter for soundtrack — lamps with their warm yellow glow, hot chocolate and reading, listening to Shostakovich records. That sort of thing.

Maybe kisses, too, if Crowley was to be believed. Aziraphale still believed most in dancing at balls.

Night had fallen earlier as the summer days had dawdled away, and in the dim light of the bookshop, Aziraphale yawned, the gentle notes of ‘The Swan’ from Saint-Saën’s Carnival of the Animals drifting from the gramophone, lulling him to sleep at too early an hour.

Only a moment later, he yawned again.

Maybe not so early, then, Aziraphale mused silently, and glanced up at the clock which sat upon his desk.

His eyes widened behind his spectacles.

So that was the time! High time to be going to bed, one should think.

With a soft sigh, he rose from his chair and folded up his glasses, closing the book he had been examining, and settling the spectacles neatly atop the cover, ready for the new day.

Humming to himself, he tidied the few things he always did before going to bed, switching off a few lamps here and there, all but enough to light his way upstairs, and then went about drawing the blinds for the night.

He was just closing the last of them, when a strange sight beyond the rain-speckled window caused him to look twice.

It was Crowley’s Bentley — well now, who else’s would it be? — parked at the kerb, as it often was in the day. But clearly, it was not day, and Crowley’s Bentley should have been parked by his flat. So where was Crowley, if the Bentley was here? It was hardly like him to let his beloved Bentley out of his sight.

Aziraphale frowned. He resolved to investigate.

He strode across the bookshop floor, and carefully — hesitantly, in case this was some fiendish trap of Hell’s making — twisted the doorknob and pushed.

It was raining less now, only sprinkling, but the door creaked as though it were as hesitant as the angel himself to leave the warmth and light of the bookshop. But Aziraphale stepped out onto the pavement, peering into the night toward the Bentley.

He was still holding onto the door when a dash of colour caught his gaze. Red, like a flame behind the light from the bookshop, glinting off the windows of the car.

He frowned again, and let go of the door. He walked slowly toward the Bentley, now surer of himself, though still puzzled by the sight before him.

But when he reached the car, he was certain of what he saw, albeit not why it was that he was seeing it.

Because there was Crowley, slumped in the passenger’s seat of the Bentley, head tipped forward so that his chin nearly touched his chest, dark glasses nowhere to be seen.

His mouth hung open just a little, lower lip sticking out in a fashion which might have been pouty, had Crowley not been asleep, all the usual tension gone from between his eyes.

Something clenched in Aziraphale’s chest.

With a little shiver, Azirphale pushed aside whatever had just come over him, and knocked on the window, first quietly, then more insistently, when the latter proved ineffective.

“Crowley,” he said. “Crowley!”

At last, Crowley started, head hitting the ceiling of the car as Aziraphale winced, before those pretty yellow eyes flicked at last to his angel.

The rigidity which had abruptly pinched Crowley’s shoulders left just as quickly when the demon’s gaze settled on Aziraphale, and he began to roll down the window.

Aziraphale, knees bent, leant his arms on the windowsill, so as to match Crowley’s present height.

“Angel,” said Crowley softly, before Aziraphale could speak. “What… mmm. What are you doing here?”

Aziraphale frowned for the third time in a very short span of minutes. “I could ask you the same thing, my dear boy.”

“‘S no crime to sit in one’s car, ‘sit?” Crowley mumbled groggily.

“But it’s nighttime,” Aziraphale intoned. “You should be at home. Asleep.”

“I am at home,” said Crowley.

Aziraphale felt a warm laugh bubble up to his lips. “No, you’re not, silly. You’re in your car.”

Crowley didn’t laugh. He sighed. “Car’s where I live, now.”

The angel blinked, bemused. “What do you mean? What about your flat?”

Crowley shrugged. “‘S not mine anymore. Shax’s. Part of Hell’s consequences after our little escaping act.”

A sudden hurt gripped Aziraphale again, and his expression softened further, if that was even possible. “Oh, Crowley. Why didn’t you just tell me?”

Crowley didn’t look at him, only uttering a quiet, unintelligible noise which was in no way a word. But his meaning was conveyed all the same — he did not know what to say at this moment, nor, possibly, did he ever.

“You’re always here,” Aziraphale murmured. “Why not just stay?”

In the silence, Aziraphale heard only his own breath, and the short stutter of Crowley’s, coming in waves. Crowley still would not look at him.

“I, uh — didn’tknowthatyou’dwantmetostay.”

The confusion resettled on Aziraphale’s brow. “Come again?”

Crowley coughed. “I…” Again. “I didn’t know that you’d, um. Want me to stay.”

The last of his words had once more come out a tangled mess, but Aziraphale caught them all the same.

“Crowley…” Aziraphale reached a hand through the car window, and in the dim lighting of the street, his palm met Crowley’s solid chest sooner than he had anticipated.

Crowley breathed in sharply, and Aziraphale nearly drew back at his misstep, but whether it was the lateness of the night or his desire to convey to Crowley what he meant, something stayed his hand, and he did not move. But it was at that precise moment that Crowley finally met his gaze, and Aziraphale felt his own breath hitch at their closeness, though a car door separated them still.

The warmth which had been in his laughter now spread through his chest, and all throughout him, though the warmest part of him was his hand, where it lay on Crowley’s chest.

“I always want you to stay,” he said softly.

Crowley’s mouth dropped open again, and unwittingly, Aziraphale’s eyes strayed there.

Crowley, however, did notice.

“Well. I, um,” Crowley felt the need to clear his throat again, “I’d like to.”

With a small smile, Aziraphale nodded once, decisively. He rose from where he had crouched, and opened Crowley’s door. “Then it is done.”

He stepped back as Crowley left the car to join him on the pavement, then shut the car door once more.

He began to walk back to the bookshop’s entrance, aware of Crowley following along behind him, when a telltale scuff of shoes indicated that Crowley had stopped. Aziraphale turned.

“Come along, Crowley. It’s raining, after all.”

Crowley pointed over his shoulder, “It’s just, uh, I forgot my glasses.”

Aziraphale shook his head. “You don’t need them here, darling.”

Crowley’s lips pursed, then fell slack once more. He nodded.

They made it to the door, and Aziraphale held it open for his oldest friend, slipping inside and locking the thing securely once the two were safely indoors.

He padded over to the blind he had neglected to close, and swept it shut, faintly aware of Crowley standing awkwardly, unusually silent, in the middle of the room.

Aziraphale returned to him. “There’s the sofa,” he said meaninglessly, because he had only just now thought of it. “But it always gets so cold down here at night. Why don’t you just come upstairs?”

Before Crowley could say that he didn’t really feel the cold, it occurred to him that here was a better option.

“After all, why not,” he murmured, and Aziraphale offered him a nod of approval.

He trailed after his angel switching off the last of the lamps, picking up a single candle, lit in its holder. Aziraphale took the first of the many steps up the spiral staircase, then turned and extended his hand to Crowley, that small, familiar smile lighting his face more than any candle could have dreamt to replicate.

Crowley slipped his hand into Azriaphale’s, his long, cold fingers softening in the surrounding warmth of the angel’s hand.

And thus they made their ascent of the stairs, Crowley fighting the appearance of his own tiny smile. But there was no reason to fight, and so he let it be, let it take him over. Who was he, after all, to deny himself so small a taste of paradise?

At the top of the stairs they soon came to the room in which Aziraphale sometimes slept. Crowley himself found his desire for sleep infrequent, preferring to roam about the silent Earth in the quiet night hours. But this night, for whatever reason, was set apart from the others, and had been from the start.

Aziraphale’s hand fell from Crowley’s as he went to set the candle upon his bedside table. Crowley, suddenly drawn by an insatiable curiosity to the bookshelves that prevailed even in Aziraphale’s bedroom, strode toward the books, running his fingers along the spines. These books seemed unlike the ones Aziraphale kept downstairs at the heart of the shop. On the contrary, it seemed that these books were where Aziraphale kept his heart; the spines of these volumes were decorated in his neat, tightly-lettered script, proclaiming dates to those who cared to read them. Though, Crowley supposed (or maybe hoped), no one but him had been brought here to see them.

He tipped one carefully down from the shelf, and it opened in his hands, the spine oddly worn as though the book had been opened — read, again and again — many times.

He was surprised to find his name, amongst all the words, more often than anything else.

“You keep diaries — ” he began, at the same moment as Aziraphale said,

“Don’t —”

He turned, shutting the book abruptly, and found Aziraphale by the bed, now in a long, white cotton shirt which was more of a gown, looking more angelic than ever. He looked ever so much as he had done the day Crowley had met him, with all the stars of creation in those eyes of his.

“Oh,” was all Crowley managed. Aziraphale, for some reason, blushed.

Yet he seemed to recover quickly enough. “Come to bed, Crowley.”

Crowley all but forgot the book he had been holding, and only just caught and replaced it on the shelf before it fell to the floor.

He approached Aziraphale slowly, as one does a frightened animal, though there was nothing of that sort in Aziraphale’s soft face. The rain pattered softly against the windows.

Crowley took off his jacket, and hung it over the low bedpost. With a brief glance at Aziraphale across the bed, he sat, and removed his shoes, and the thin silver scarf which was always around his neck. He discarded his trousers in the same pile, and turned to find Aziraphale with his legs already tucked under the covers, cradling the candle with a patient expression.

Crowley mirrored Aziraphale’s attitude, and Aziraphale, seeing this, blew out the candle, and set it aside.

In the darkness, Crowley lay down, and by the rustling of the sheets, heard Aziraphale do the same. He turned in his direction.

“So,” he said quietly, “what now?”

He thought Aziraphale shuffled closer.

“Same as always,” said the angel. “We stay together.”

Then, to Crowley’s surprise, Aziraphale nestled his cheek against Crowley’s chest, and wrapped his lovely arms around Crowley’s waist.

Another soft Oh fell from Crowley’s mouth, and Aziraphale sighed against his chest. Crowley’s arms, of their own accord, as if they knew nothing more natural, came up to draw Aziraphale closer, and Aziraphale’s warmth bled into his skin, and became his own. He felt suddenly overwhelmed by a feeling of great honour, because Aziraphale had chosen him, of all creatures, to hold in his arms.

“Good night, Crowley,” mumbled, already half asleep.

“Good night, angel,” sighed — smitten, blissful, besotted.

The rain continued to fall over Whickber Street, though angel and demon, wrapped up in one another, heeded it not.

⭒

good omens taglist: @killerqueen-ofwillowgreen

send me an ask to be added to my taglist! and please let me know what fandoms you’d like to be tagged for <3

#aziraphale #crowley #aziraphale x crowley #aziraphale + crowley #aziraphale and crowley #aziracrow #good omens #good omens fic #fic #tina’s writing

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hojiteaversion · 3 months

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DLS Characters as Classical Music Pieces

Laia: Um. I was just gonna say it's really graceful and elegant, but Wikipedia says: "'Le cygne' illustrates the fleeting nature of beauty with its interpretation of the legend of the 'swan song'". So, uh. Guess it fits!!

Millie: Mischief and chaos. Clownery. Buffoonery.

Vlad: The kind of piece you'd find in one of those "pov: you're waltzing with your soulmate when you realize they came back wrong" playlists, probably

Leo: Yeah, it's soft. Yeah, it's complex. Yeah, it makes you wanna cry. Yeah, it's beloved. Leo Nolan!!

Sandra: ...Listen, it's what Sandra deserves! To rule a beautiful land of sweets, and to end the night with her beloved, dancing to one of the most beautiful musical pieces ever made. She is a magical sweetheart. She deserves the world and the Tchaikovsky masterpiece!!

Noe: Mischief and chaos. Clownery. Buffoonery.

Hasan: I think this one has strong moments, and then there's a bit of a lull, you know? Anyway, I like to think that represents those years he was dead dead

Mehmed: It just sounds like someone who has secret nefarious plans. And, I'm not gonna lie, this one kind of reminds me of The Imperial March, and that guy was good by the end too, so, it fits! Plus, it being a waltz mirrors Vlad's piece 😉

#romance club #dracula a love story #dracula: a love story #rc mehmed #charactersas #q

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typingwithmyhandstied · 4 months

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6, 16 and 23 (from music asks)

6:A song that makes you want to dance:

16:One of your favorite classical songs:

23:A song that you think everybody should listen to

#thank you for the ask <3

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pianocat939 · 1 year

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do you have any classical music recommendations? especially for writing?

YOU SERIOUS???

BITCH I GOT YOU

If you want the dramatic stuff that gives a weird spark then these one would be great:

- Moonlight Sonata by Beethoven (This one has like 3 different moods to it)

- 1812 Overture by Tchaikovsky (This one is quite loud, there’s literal cannons used in part of it. It’s supposed to picture a war so like…)

- O Fortuna by Carl Orff (Very loud. Brings a lot of terror)

- Lacrimosa by Mozart (This one is perfect for sadness/angst it’s a funeral song that was never finished bcs he died before he could)

- Danse Macabre by Camille Saint Saëns (A song about skeletons lmao)

- Waldstein Sonata by Beethoven (Very energetic)

- Fantaisie Impromptu by Chopin (Probably my favorite piano piece)

- Prelude in G minor by Rachmaninov (Kinda like this steady almost March thing)

- 1st movement of Eine Kleine Nachtmusik by Mozart (Very famous. I’m only putting it here bcs it’s like elevator music to me lmao)

The more calm and just chill ones:

- The Swan by Camille Saint Saëns (This is from the collection Carnival of the Animals. I would check all of it out tbh. Oh and there’s a string version and Oboe version, I prefer Oboe)

- The Aquarium by Camille Saint Saëns (Another Carnival of the Animals. Very water-like)

- The Girl with Flaxen Hair by Debussy (I’m learning this one rn actually. Very chill)

- Clair De Lune (I’ve played this one as well. Is calm but has a slight energetic feel to it)

- Morning Mood by Grieg (Bro it’s so calming in a magical way Istg)

- The Blue Danube Waltz by Strauss (I wanna fling someone when listening to this idk why)

- Waltz in C# Minor by Chopin (I also can play this one, flows really smoothly)

I’ll also give you a list of my favorite composers cuz why not:

- Chopin

- Tchaikovsky

- Camille Saint-Saëns

- Bach (His music might be boring but I still love it lmao)

#asks

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fromalicetobella · 5 months

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Reminds me of a little a mouse I once knew in theater 15 at the Times Square amc

Oh to be a little mouse in theater 15 watching and listening and rolling in treats between a forest of socks slides and the like

I wonder what mice see and hear I wonder if it's good like dogs or maybe not so good because it was a very very tiny mouse

If the little mouse in theater 15 can't hear or understand the talking I hope all the buzzing in its tiny little ear drums beats to a tune kinda like this

I hope the little mouse like it's little life in theater 15 I know I sure would but then again the little mouses home in theater 15 isn't all that different from my own

#little story #about a mouse I saw while watching ballad of the song birds and snakes with my gf at the Times Square amc #Spotify

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silveryinkystar · 2 years

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Rhapsody in Blue; a playlist to accompany the fic, both made by the wonderful @kckenobi.

[Read here | Listen here | Insp]

[ID in alt text]

Tracklist [part 1 - fic & chapter titles | part 2 - inspiration]

part 1

i. Prelude by Johann Sebastian Bach || ii. the man himself by Gang of Youths || iii. Gardermoen by Julia Kent || iv. Ring of Saturn by Cory Wong, Dirty Loops || v. In the Mood by Glenn Miller || vi. Nuvole bianche - Arr. for Two Cellos by Mr and Mrs Cello || vii. Moonlight Serenade by US Air Force Airmen of Note || viii. Broken Cellos by Samuel L Session || ix. Hospital, Pt. 1 by Gustavo Santaolalla || x. Due Tramonti - Remastered 2020 by Ludovico Einaudi, Marco Decimo || xi. Caravan by Duke Ellington || xii. Hospital, Pt. 2 by Gustavo Santaolalla || xiii. On the Nature of Daylight by Max Richter, Louisa Fuller, Natalia Bonner, John Metcalfe, Philip Sheppard, Chris Worsey || xiv. Asturias by Boston Cello Quartet, Will Hudgins || xv. Danse macabre by Camille Saint-Saëns || xvi. The Life Cycle of a Butterfly by Cory Wong || xvii. Tomorrow and Forever by Cory Wong || xviii. Rhapsody in Blue by George Gershwin

part 2 (under the cut)

xix. Birdland by Maynard Ferguson || xx. Without Me by Rayland Baxter || xxi. Supermarket Flowers by Stellenbosch University Choir || xxii. Being Alive (Glee Cast Version) by Glee Cast || xxiii. Moon River by Gustav Lundgren || xxiv. Pie Jesu by The Ayoub Sisters, Royal Philharmonic Orchestra, Mark Messenger || xxv. The Swan (From "Carnival of the Animals" by Camille Saint-Saëns || xxvi. i luv him. by Catie Turner || xxvii. Art vs Calling by Sleeping At Last || xxviii. A Million Dreams by The Piano Guys || xxix. Love Theme From St. Elmo's Fire by Stan Whitmire ||

xxx. Thaïs: Meditation (Arr. for Cello & Piano) by Jules Massenet || xxxi. The Lake Isle by Ola Gjeilo, Tenebrae, Kristian Kvalvaag, Thomas Gould, Ciaran McCabe, Jon Thorne, Matthew Sharp || xxxii. Flower Duet by Leo Délibes, Cicely Parnas, Marnie Laird, Brooklyn Classical, Patrick Laird || xxxiii. October by Eric Whitacre, Youngstown State University Symphonic Wind Ensemble, Stephen Gage || xxxiv. Tu Sei - Arr. for Two Cellos by Mr and Mrs Cello || xxxv. Sing Gently (Arr. for String Quartet and Piano) by Eric Whitacre, Dominic Cheli, Adam Milstein, Emma Wernig, Ben Solomonov, Max Karmazyn || xxxvi. Burying the Dead by Kevin Kiner || xxxvii. The Winner Takes it All - From "Mamma Mia!" by Meryl Streep || xxxviii. Butterfly by Gustav Santaolalla || xxxix. A Model of the Universe by Jóhann Jóhannsson ||

xl. Rhapsody on a Theme of Paganini Op 43: Variation No. 18 Andante cantabile by Sergei Rachmaninoff || xli. Requiem For An Empty Ballroom by The Stolen Orchestra || xlii. Learning to Drive by Gustav Santaolalla || xliii. The Art of Getting By by Laura Zocca || xliv. Needles & Pins by Canyon City || xlv. Bandstand Boogie by Barry Manilow || xlvi. It Don't Mean a Thing (If It Ain't Got That Swing) by Louis Armstrong, Duke Ellington || xlvii. The Jazz Police by Gordon Goodwin's Big Phat Band || xlviii. You Cannot Lose My Love by Sara Groves || xlix. Bad Day by Daniel Powter ||

l. champagne problems by Taylor Swift || li. Landslide by Alex Blue, Sleeping At Last || lii. If This Is It Now by Birdy || liii. God is Just the Universe by Corey Kilgannon || liv. Quiet Man by Roo Panes || lv. Grow As We Go by Ben Platt || lvi. Happiness by We Banjo 3 || lvii. October - Live by gray || lviii. Fare Thee Well by Gustav Santaolalla

#*a: edit #playlist #fanfic playlist #star wars #the clone wars #fic rec #sw fic rec #image described #id in alt text #orchestra au #i'm really happy with how the glow effect turned out this is my first time doing it dkjhskfjk #definitely please check out rhapsody in blue it's a very lovely fic!!!#(also with some of these song titles... i am Slightly Concerned about what's going to happen)

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invisibleanonymousmonsters · 3 years

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i’m thinking more of songs that describe them but ones that they listened to is fine too

I’m not really into matching music to people like that. It’s not really my jam.

But I can share what music I think they listen to.

Dick Grayson:

He listens to a lot of pop. But it doesn’t really matter what decade it comes from. He likes it all. He also loves 80s music in general. He likes a bit of punk – like The Clash. He’s basically aware of whatever is current and hip at the moment. He’s not afraid to openly listen to music that others may label as “gri

Songs Dick is currently listening to:

Everybody Wants To Rule The World by Tears For Fears

This Must Be the Place - Talking Heads

Blitzkrieg Bop - The Ramones

Lay All Your Love On Me – ABBA

White Flag – Dido

––––––––

Jason Todd:

To no surprise, Jason is into grunge and darker music. He’s a punk and metalhead at heart. He loved metal, hard rock – but he also fucks with some hiphop. He loves the 90s. His taste is stereotypically masculine music. But he also loves female singers. Dick claims he’s caught him listening to Harry Styles before, but Jason denies it always.

Songs Jason is currently listening to:

Zombie – The Cranberries

Rat Patrol – Naked Raygun

The Four Horseman – Metallica

Royal Jelly – Deap Vally

Time’s Up – O.C.

––––––––

Tim Drake:

Tim’s music taste is so all over the place that he is not allowed to DJ or press shuffle on his library ever. It’s a family rule. One moment he’s listening to 90s R&B and the next he’s listening to the Hamilton musical. There is no consistency. If he likes something, he likes it. There’s no explanation. Jason almost beat Tim up because he got stuck listening to his music on a long car drive once.

Songs Tim is currently listening to:

Losing My Edge – LCD Soundsystem

Cool for the Summer – Demi Lovato

Jolene by Dolly Parton

Drunk Walk Home – Mitski

Dynamite – BTS

––––––––

Damian Wayne:

Classical. Damian almost exclusively listens to classical. No matter how much his older brothers try to expose him to different types of music – especially Tim – he doesn’t budge. The only thing he listens to besides classical is movie scores. Sometimes he hasn’t even seen the movies.

Songs Damian is currently listening to:

Saint-Saens : The Swan

Spiegel im Spiegel – Arvo Pär

The Carnival of the Animals - VII. Aquarium – Saint-Saëns

The Battle – Hans Zimmer

Prologue – Alexandre Desplat

––––––––

Bruce Wayne:

Bruce has a very high-brow taste in music. It’s the most similar to Damian’s. He listens to a lot of classical and opera. However, he’ll surprise the boys by commenting on the bands they might be listening to. He doesn’t really mind when they play other stuff. But if he’s in control or alone, it’s always classical.

Songs Bruce is currently listening to:

Allegri : Miserere -Tallis Scholars

Introit & Kyrie - Requiem - Faure

Claire de Lune – Debussy

Schumann: Arabeske in C, Op.18

Prelude in E-Minor (op.28 no. 4) – Frédéric Chopin

#all men have limits #dick grayson #tim drake #bruce wayne #damian wayne #jason todd #music #songs #playlist #batfam #batboys

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rfamess · 4 years

Text

This cured my boredom for a little bit. Was making a few new music playlists and thought.. hmm. I wonder what kind of music the RFA listens to? So, I made this. For no reason at all.

What Kind of Music the RFA + V/Saeran Listen To:

Saeyoung/707:

- (I always see people writing that he’d listen to all star or other cringe meme songs because that’s what seems to be his entire personality, but I like to think he has more substance than that and listens to songs that don’t have to do with memes.)

- He definitely listens to rap/hip-hop.

- Can you not imagine him driving down the road in his cars, windows down, music blasting?

- He listens to his music uber loud in his headphones while working.

- His favorite artist is probably Tyler the creator, i mean, how could you not love him.

- Listens to Mac Miller when he’s sad :(

PLAYLIST:

Who Dat Boy - Tyler the Creator

Stutter - Freddie Dredd

Evil Fantasy - Freddie Dredd

Sweatpants - Childish Gambino

Bounce - Logic

Dead Wrong - Notorious B.I.G.

Movement - Oliver Tree

Stick to Your Guns - Watsky

Both - Gucci Mane

No Sleep Till Brooklyn - Beastie Boys

Can I Kick It - A Tribe Called Quest

No Limit - G Easy

Circles - Mac Miller

Broke Bitch - TMG (lol)

Bonfire - Childish Gambino

I THINK - Tyler the Creator

Good News - Mac Miller

I - Kendrick Lamar

FACE - Brockhampton

King Kunta - Kendrick Lamar

Lovely Things Suite: Knots - Watsky

Zen:

- (Similar to Saeyoung, I don’t believe Zens entire personality revolves around musicals, he probably doesn’t listen to them that often imo.)

- I like to think he’s a... well rounded individual when it comes to music

- Listens to anything and everything.

- I could see him listening to the same music as Seven, but is also very into 70s-90s rock like the Red Hot Chili Peppers and the like.

- He runs listening to all of his music on shuffle and doesn’t have a specific playlist so there’s never a certain vibe to it— it really is all over the place.

- In addition to Seven’s playlist, here’s Zen’s

PLAYLIST:

Funny Face - Red Hot Chili Peppers

Santeria - Sublime

Badfish - Sublime

The Luck You Got - The High Strung

Dedicated to the One I Love - The Mamas and the Papas

Heart of Glass - Blondie

Come as You Are - Nirvana

Brown Eyed Girl - Van Morrison

Machu Picchu - The Strokes

Dirty Harry - Gorillaz

Love of Your Life - Red Hot Chili Peppers

The Adults Are Talking - The Strokes

Bailee - The Licks

Where is my Mind - Pixies

Hurt Like Mine - The Black Keys

Gap - The Kooks

Give it Away - Red Hot Chili Peppers

Take Me Out - Franz Ferdinand

Hoops - The Rubens

Conquest - The White Stripes

Ten Cent Pistol - The Black Keys

Yoosung:

- Yoosung likes more upbeat music, maybe more new age/alternative pop

- Listens to music every time he tries to study, but usually get distracted by it and starts to sing along instead of actually doing his work

- Is probably trying to branch out of his style, Seven and Zen try to convince him to listen to their favorite genres

- The three of them always argue about who has the best taste in music lol

- He’s constantly wondering if his music is “manly” enough (it’s okay yoosung it’s just music)

- If this dude gets drunk and hears any of this music he goes absolutely wild and dances all over the place

PLAYLIST:

Bambi - Hippocampus

Turn - the Wombats

Paris - Magic Man

Chronic Sunshine - Cosmo Pike

Death of a Bachelor - Panic! At the Disco

Silvertongue - Young the Giant

Brazil - Declan McKenna

Unbelievers - Vampire Weekend

Baseball - Hippocampus

Australia - The Shins

Prune, You Talk Funny - Gus Dapperton

Honeypie - JAWNY

Alien Boy - Oliver Tree

Satellite - Guster

So Young - Portugal. The Man

Blinding Lights - The Weeknd

Circles - Post Malone

Unbearably White - Vampire Weekend

Tiny Umbrella - Coast Modern

Way it Goes - Hippocampus

Electric Feel - MGMT

Jumin:

- this guy has 2 modes and that’s it: classical bitch or music that has words

- He appreciates the fine art of classical music and listens to it when he has work to get done or when he’s trying to relax.

- If he’s in a good mood he’ll put on a playlist that includes “music with actual lyrics!”

- It’s a dad playlist. Billy Joel, Billy Joel, Billy Joel, Elton John, The Beatles, Billy Joel.

- He likes Billy Joel. Jumin has a dad personality you can’t convince me otherwise lol

- He tried to branch out but can get very picky in his interests. “I don’t like this guitar riff— change it”

- Either way his 2 modes are apparent in his playlists

PLAYLIST:

Dreams - Fleetwood Mac

California Dreamin’ - The Mamas and the Papas

Don’t Ask Me Why - Billy Joel

Starman - David Bowie

Miss You - The Rolling Stones

Dancing in the Moonlight - King Harvest

Come and Get Your Love - Redbone

It’s Too Late - Carole King

Movin’ Out - Billy Joel

A Horse With No Name - America

I Want to Hold Your Hand - The Beatles

Honky Cat - Elton John

Vienna - Billy Joel

The Stranger - Billy Joel

Waltz in A Minor - Chopin

Hungarian Dance No. 5 in G Minor - Brahms

Waltz No. 7 in C Sharp Minor, Op. 64, No. 2 - Chopin

Souvenir de Paganini - Chopin

Solfeggietto in C Minor - Bach

Prelude in B Minor, Op. 32, No. 10 - Rachmaninoff

IV. Allegro Molto From Quartet - Yo-Yo Ma

La Fille Aux Cheveux de Lin - Debussy

Porz Goret - Yann Tiersen

Carnival of the Animals: VII. Aquarium - Camille Saint-Saëns

Carnival of the Animals: XIII. The Swan - Camille Saint-Saëns

Jaehee:

- We all know her obsession with Musicals (specifically zens)

- Other than this she listens to...well honestly I don’t know

- Her music doubles as something she can get hyped up with and something she can listen to to relax.

- She loves to dance, so a lot of her songs and just songs that she’ll never be able to refuse to move her feet to!

- She likes the old classics and then she likes Doja Cat. Lizzo? Queen.

- She’s a barb let’s be real please. you can never convince me that she’s not

PLAYLIST:

Adore You - Harry Styles

She - Harry Styles

Call Me - Blondie

Starships - Nicki Minaj

Hey Mickey - Toni Basil

Juice - Lizzo

Say So - Doja Cat

Voulez-Vous - ABBA

Waterloo - ABBA

Cuz I Love You - Lizzo

Killing Me Softly With His Song - Roberta Flack (LOL the memories associated with this song after Killing Stalking..... hahahaha BUT ITS STILL A GREAT SONG!)

Only - Nicki Minaj

Boss Bitch - Doja Cat

Go Your Own Way - Fleetwood Mac

Beez in the Trap - Nicki Minaj

Woman - Harry Styles

9 to 5 - Dolly Parton

Blame it on the Boogie - Michael Jackson

One Way or Another - Blondie

Tia Tamera - Doja Cat

Truth Hurts - Lizzo

- indie boy indie boy indie boy indie boy

- Cmon just look at him he’s an indie boy

- If you’ve ever met a film student that gatekeeps music, they have the same exact taste but V won’t say shit to make you feel stupid. It’s just music bruv

- If you’ve ever been to an indie concert you know the fuckin dance you know what I’m talking about. he does that.

- Rolls a joint, pops the music off and he paints, does photography, whatever. Either way he straight vibes every single time the tunes come on.

- Low key thinks he has the best music taste. that’s just how dem indie kids roll let’s be real here.

- For some reason knows everything about every type of music. will spew facts about artists and songs at random

PLAYLIST:

Shuggie - Foxygen

Necessary Evil - Unknown Mortal Orchestra

Homage - Mild High Club

Another One - Mac DeMarco

Plants - Crumb

What Once Was - Her’s

Heart and My Car - Summer Salt

Cottage Roads - The Walters

Moonlight on the River - Mac DeMarco

Work This Time - King Gizzard and the Lizard Wizard

Like Yesterday - Paul Cherry

Call it Fate, Call it Karma - The Strokes

Knowhere - Nick DeLaurentis

Escargot Blues - Guantánamo Bay Surf Club

A Side / B Side - Tipling Rock

Dark Red - Steve Lacy

That I Miss You - Vansire

Top Tier Love - Lonely Benson

Driving to Hawaii - Summer Salt

Taking Up Space - Mustard Service

She’s the Only One - King Guru

Saeran:

- emo boy emo boy emo boy

- We all know it

- As much as I’d love to say he listens to heavy death metal, there’s a part of my mind saying NO he’s not like that.

- Well he is, but he’s got more than a few single interest

- Probably listens to Nirvana, Cage the Elephant, anything similar

- Is always trying to listen to new music

- Kind of sick of Seven blasting his music all the time and listens to the opposite of hip hop whenever possible

- Honestly enjoys all types of music, but sticks to his favorites

PLAYLIST:

- All Apologies - Nirvana

- Angel of Small Death and the Codeine Scene - Hozier

- Soma - The Strokes

- Black Madonna - Cage the Elephant

- Hysteria - Muse

- Why’d You Only Call Me When You’re High - Arctic Monkeys

- I Got Mine - The Black Keys

- Supermassive Black Hole - Muse

- Under the Bridge - Red Hot Chili Peppers

- Back Against the Wall - Cage the Elephant

- Creep - Radiohead

- Heart Shaped Box - Nirvana

- Demon Days - Gorillaz

- Bulls on Parade - Rage Against The Machine

- Matador - The Buttertones

- Holiday - Green Day

- RIP - The Licks

- London Calling - The Clash

- Loser - Beck

- What I Got - Sublime

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buckybardot · 4 years

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Classical Hero Vibes

MY HERO ACADEMIA

Summary: A list of classical songs that remind me of each character (2 each) A/N: I love classical and often listen to instrumentals while I’m trying to focus, so I was very excited to put this together. I put all the songs listed below onto a playlist titled “classical hero vibes” on Spotify (in order from top to bottom). You can find it here. (not my gif)

BAKUGOU KATSUKI

Whole Lotta Love -2CELLOS

Romeo And Juliet, Op.64 / Act 1: Dance of the Knights - The Cleveland Orchestra

TODOROKI SHOTO

For the Love of a Princess - 2CELLOS

La Valse d’Amélie - Maximilian Oberroitger

MIDORIYA IZUKU

Appalachian Spring - Aaron Copland, Minnesota Orchestra, Eiji Oue

And We Will Shine - Dirk Maassen

IIDA TENYA

May it Be - 2CELLOS

Bluebird - Alexis French

KAMINARI DENKI

Clair de Lune, L. 32 - Claude Debussy, Martin Jones

Overture - Georges Bizet, Herbert von Karajan, Wiener Philharmoniker

KIRISHIMA EIJIROU

Onthou - Ever So Blue

Charlotte’s Daydream - Pieter de Graaf

SHINSOU HITOSHI

The Carnival of the Animals, R. 125: XIII. The Swan - Camille Saint-Saëns, Yo-Yo Ma, Kathryn Stott

Cello Concerto in C Minor, Op. 21: II. Adagio - Kurt Atterberg, Truls Mørk, Norrlands Operan Symphony Orchestra, Kristjan Järvi

KEIGO TAKAMI // HAWKS

Vals De Rodrigues - Eric Badanti

What You Mean to Me - Gary Barlow, Eliot Kennedy, Lang Lang

AIZAWA SHOUTA // ERASERHEAD

Orbit - Philip Glass, Matt Haimovitz

Nocturne, Op. posth. in C-Sharp Minor: Lento - Frédéric Chopin, Brigitte Engerer

TOSHINORI YAGI // ALL-MIGHT

Memories of a Promenade II - Olga Scheps, Flying Steps

Time - Hans Zimmer

#katsuki bakugou x reader #shoto todoroki x reader #izuku midoriya x reader #iida tenya x reader #denki kaminari x reader #eijirou kirishima x reader #shinsou hitoshi x reader #keigo takami x reader #shouta aizawa x reader #toshinori yagi x reader #I’m convinced that overture plays in kaminari’s head 24/7

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savagexcamden · 4 years

Photo

{ the nightmare man. } for nightmares and facing your inner demons, for holy visions reminding you of every way you've failed, for tearing your hair out from grief, and being confronted with the childhood that was stolen from you.

ave maria brooklyn duo // nocturne, op. 9 no. 2 chopin // lacrimosa dies illa mozart // agnus dei john rutter // sonata no. 14 moonlight in c# minor beethoven // the well-tempered clavier bach // après un rêve fauré // piano trio in d major op. 70 no. 1 beethoven // nocturne in b major op. 32 no. 1 chopin // preludes, book 1 no. 4 debussy // ballade no. 1 g minor op. 23 chopin // clair de lune debussy // the carnival of animals: the swan saint-saëns // dido and aeneas: when i am laid in earth purcell // non je ne regrette rien edith piaf

{ listen. }

#¯\_(ツ)_/¯#only been listening to classical music while writing so figured MIGHT AS WELL #( blessed are those who mourn. )#( liv. )#( the nightmare man in north dakota. )

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sswwimagine · 5 years

Text

The Swan || Remus Lupin

Original Post: on ssimagines

Pairing: Young!Remus Lupin x reader

Word Count: 3057 (opps this is long)

Summary: You have been playing violin most of your life and in your fifth year, you gain entry to one of the most prestigious violin competitions in Europe. You have to take a short trip away from hogwarts for this trip leaving your boyfriend, Remus Lupin behind.

Warnings: uber over the top fluff, violin playing

Request: Hey could I request a Remus x Reader where he surprises the reader at a violin recital for a competition she won? Fluff to the max would be awesome. Thank you!

Kind Long Note: When you say violin competition, I hope you mean violin competition not fiddle completion because I wrote it as a violin competition. Also I hope this is fluffy enough for you. I really loved writing this hope you enjoy reading it just as much as I did.

The Reader is an assumed Gryffindor, but if you would like that to be different just change McGonagall out for Slughorn (Slytherin Reader), Flitwick (Ravenclaw Reader), or Sprout (Hufflepuff Reader). Though we don’t know if Flitwick and Sprout were really the head of house during the marauders era, They could have been do I used them.

Reader is also a half blood for story purposes

Remus is a Sixth year and you are a fifth year. There is a year gap.This is obviously already been posted, but since I started my smaller blogs, I wanted all my work for each fandom in one place. Instead of just reblogging everything I figured that I would repost it.

Request/Taglist

Masterlist

Your piece for the competition : “The Swan” (From The Carnival of the Animals) by C. Saint-Saëns. I enjoy the way it’s played in the video below. It’s based off of that. The piece is originally a cello piece, but it is so beautiful.

youtube

You had been playing violin since you were a very young child. You had convinced your parents to let you play when you were about four after they had taken to see swan lake and you fell in love with the instrument. For the past eleven years, you had been dedicated to your art. Your father had even helped you enter one of Europe’s most prestigious competitions for the violin per your request. The only problem was that it took place in France in the middle of the school year.

You were determined to go and perform, so before you started your fifth year at Hogwarts, you had talked with Dumbledore and McGonagall about the competition and made arrangements for your attendance. If you were able to keep your grades up for the whole year leading up to the competition as well as get all your assignments in on time, then McGonagall would take you to the competition.

It took a lot of work and you had to get a tutor, but you had done everything you could to keep your side of the arrangement, and somewhere along the way you might have taken a liking to your tutor, Remus Lupin.

He had was a year older than you, but he had been sweet to you. He made you laugh, and he understood where you came from as a half-blood. He knew what it was like living in both the muggle world and wizarding world. It also helped that he was so cute.

All of that was out of mind right now as you stood backstage at the competition waiting to take the stage. One of your competitors was on stage playing Paganini’s Caprice No. 24. It was a very challenging piece and as you listened you became increasingly worried. Not only was the piece nearly six times as long as your piece it also had more diverse selection of techniques throughout it to show a more diverse skill set. The competitor was much older than probably around 37 to 40, and he was balding. You knew he had way more time to practice and perfect his piece. You were sure that you would not be able to do better than him.

“Do you have everything you need?” McGonagall asked beside you. You had forgotten that the professor even stood beside you.

You turned to look at the older woman. She wore a knee length maroon dress and a brown, fleece trench coat. You found her appearance to be strange and hard to wrap your head around because you had never seen her dress like this before. It just seemed out of place even though her attire was actually more common place than what you would usually see her in.

“Yes, I have my violin and bow,” you said as you gestured to your Berl Mendenhall violin and bow, “and I’ve memorized my piece. I am pretty sure I already put rosin on my bow. Oh, shit I can’t remember if I actually rosined my bow. I left my case in the practice room. I have to go back there.”

“Y/N, my dear, you rosined your bow. I watched you,” McGonagall said soothingly. “You have nothing to worry about. You will do great.”

You nodded to yourself and turned back to the stage. The man was nearing the end. In just a short second, your competition made one damning mistake as he fumbled over the left hand pizzicato followed by a minor lapse in play as if he forgot what came next. If you hadn’t heard the piece before you might have missed it, but it was clear as day to you. The man tensed up, and you gained a little hope that you might in fact be able to win this. That little mistake was your in.

You took a deep breath as the man concluded and left the stage with a gracious bow. The people in the audience applauded as he exited.

You offered him a short word of congratulations before you prepared to take the stage. The crowd died down and you watched as the portly announcer take center stage.

“Our final performer today is one of our youngest ever competitors at the age of 15 for the United Kingdom, Y/N Y/L/N,” the announcer spoke loudly projecting their voice into the large crowd. “She [he] will be playing The Swan from The Carnival of Animals composed by C. Saint-Saën. Welcome her [him] to the stage.”

With those words, they calmly walked off. The audience clapped as you made your way onto the stage, violin in hand. You bowed and waited for the clapping to quiet. With the silence slowly befalling you, you brought your violin under your chin and placed the bow on the strings.

The piano accompaniment started and you stood poised and ready. Taking a deep breath, you pulled the bow along the string to let your first note ring out. Anyone who had been talking now silenced as you moved along your piece with confidence and elegance. You lost yourself in the piece.

When you reached the end, you let out a deep breath and bowed again. The crowd clapped as wildly as could be expected. You remained professional as you stood there listening to the crowd. Due to the large bright stage lights, you were not able to actually see the crowd. As they applauded you

Once the clapping had died down you turned walked off stage to where you had previously been before your performance. McGonagall stood waiting for you with a smile on her face and tears budding in the corner of her eyes. You had been so deep into your performance that you hadn’t noticed until this moment that you as well had developed tears; you took this moment to wipe the tears from away as you were out of the view of the audience and judges.

A stagehand directed you to return to your practice room to await the results. Calmly you walked back without saying a word. Professor McGonagall opened her mouth several times to speak, but found she had nothing to say before closing it.

There was nothing more that you could do to change the results now, but you that didn’t soothe your nervousness. Nerves bubbled in your stomach like a herd of elephants. You laid your violin on the table with your bow placed gently beside it. McGonagall had taken a seat against the wall and watched as you paced the room.

Time seemed to pass slower than molasses as you waited. The only sound that echoed in the room was the clock on the wall ticking consistently. There was a knock on the door that cause you halt in your path. You turned to the door as it opened a crack.

The stagehand poked his head in and told you that it was time. Picking up your violin, you followed the stage hand back to the stage with McGonagall just a few paces behind you.

When you reached the stage, you saw the other competitors also stood back stage waiting. The man who had been before you were sweating profusely. His bald spot was glistening with perspiration. He took a handkerchief out of his pocket and began wiping his head.

The portly announcer said all the performers names to welcome them to the stage. The balding man quickly shoved the handkerchief back into his pocket, but not fully so it stuck out of his pocket. Half of the poor man’s head was still soaked with sweat. The sight caused you to stifle a laugh and eased your nerves as you made your way onto the stage after him.

There were five violinist who had made it this far and only three distinctions to hand out. Your goal going into this competition was to at least get a distinction. You were already over the moon about making it this far, but being able to “place” at such a young place would reaffirm all the effort and practice you had put in over the past eleven years.

You took a deep breath as you faced the crowd. An envelope was handed to the announcer who took it with a handshake and a smile. Slowly, you watched the announcer open the envelope. You couldn’t believe it could take someone so long to open a single envelope. Finally, announcer took the paper out of the envelope and cleared their throat.

“The distinction of third place goes to,” they said. “Beatriz Olmo,”

The crowd politely clapped a beautiful Spanish woman stepped forward to bow and shake the hand of the announcer. You hadn’t heard her play as she had gone first, but you were now worried for your placing, if you even got one. The crowd died down as the announcer cleared their throat to speak again

“The second-place distinction goes to,” they started again. You could hear your heart pounding in your ears like you were standing by the drum being hit, quickly and regularly. You were holding your breath hoping with everything in you that they’d say your name.

This was your moment of truth. Part of you wished that you could get first place, but you wanted to be realistic about this, so you were shooting for second. If you didn’t get second then it was extremely unlikely to get first. “Rolf Stumpf.”

The balding man looked up with a brilliant smile on his face. He seemed to rush forward to shake the hand of the announcer. The crowd roared as Rolf was now taking his bow happily.

Your thoughts turned dark as you stood their completely devoid of emotion on your face. If Rolf had gotten only second then what did that mean for you? The person who must have been truly amazing. As Rolf went to stand next to Beatriz, the announcer made their way back to the microphone.

Clearing their throat, they started again, “The distinction of first place goes to…”

You forced a smile to your face as you waited for one of the other two people beside you to be called. You looked to see a tall billowy man with an extremely pale face. Beside him stood a short, plump woman who had a hooked nose. Your mind let thoughts of one of their names being called run free as you tried to picture how each of them would accept their distinction.

You were sure that the two people beside you had done wonderfully. You after all would have more opportunities to participate in this competition. You realized that you would survive this, and the fact that you even got to perform today was enough to last a lifetime. Having this on your resume would help you get you into just about any music school you wanted which was your dream for after Hogwarts.

“Y/N Y/L/N,” The announcer’s voice pulled you out of your trance. You looked around to see the other performers standing where they were.

You had won.

You Had Won.

YOU HAD WON.

Containing your excitement, you made your way to shake the hand of the announcer. You bowed to the crowd and kept your head high as you stood beside Rolf and Beatriz. The clapping persisted as the three of you stood facing the crowd.

Time seemed to go by in a blur. You were ushered backstage and into the practice room once again. By now you had become familiar with every inch of this room. You could probably draw it from memory.

You were in a daze as you fained listening to McGonagall. You would nod every once in a while to look like you were paying attention, but you were still struck silent at what had just happened on stage. You had placed your violin in the case a while ago, and now you were just sitting their staring at it sitting on the coffee table in front of you.

You still couldn’t wrap your head around the fact that you had won. Your mind went over every second of the day leading up to that moment. Sure, you had played your piece perfectly, but that you felt that if that was the only reason you had won then you shouldn’t have. Shaking your head, you tried to put those thoughts out of your mind.

There was a knock at the door that stopped McGonagall’s speech. She went to open the door as you just watched.

McGonagall pulled the open door slightly. You couldn’t see who was there as you heard her greet them. McGonagall stepped out into the hall closing the door behind her leaving you alone.

Minutes passed as you just sat there alone. You were glad to have a moment of silence. As you got up from your stop on the practice room’s couch, your body let out a series of pops. You had been sitting on the couch for a while, and your stiff body was tanking you for moving again.

Another knock came at the door. You hesitantly walked to the door and pulled it open.

You felt your jaw go slack as you registered who stood in front of you. Remus Lupin stood in a suit and tie holding a bouquet of scarlet roses. His hair had been pushed back the best he could. It still sat haphazardly sticking up all over his head. The faded scars that adorned his face were hardly noticeable in this lighting.

“Hi,” Remus said quietly. “Can I come in there? I feel awkward just standing out here.”

“Oh yeah of course,” you said stepping aside. He slid past you, and you closed the door.

“These are for you,” he said handing you the bouquet. You took them with a wide smile growing on your face. You placed the flowers gingerly on your violin case before turning to look at the 16-year-old again.

“Remus, what are you doing here?” you asked. You moved closer to him.

“You think I would miss this,” he said as he picked up your hand in his.

Your eyes traveled to your connecting hands. The warmth that he caused made your chest swell with joy. There had been a few times in the past were Remus would walk you to your classes or you would hang out at the black lake with him and his friends, and his hand would find its way into yours. You had never talked with him about it, but it had made you feel over the moon. This was the only time in your life that you were sure meant more than just being friendly.

“This was a big moment for you. I had to be here,” His tone was quieter than it had been before. Your eyes had still been on your hands when he spoke, but as he took a step closer to you, you looked up at him. His eyes were as gentle as his tone had been, and a small smile graced his lips.

“How did you get here?” you said. Your voice was barely above a whisper even though you tried to will yourself to be louder. Remus brought his other hand up to your cheek and softly tucked a stray hair behind your ear. His action brought a blush to your cheeks. They were burning under his touch. Chills had risen all over your arms at his proximity.

“I don’t think you actually want to know that,” he said with a soft chuckle. “Let’s just say that prongs, padfoot, and wormtail are also here.”

With that you let out as small laugh. On several occasions, padfoot had bragged to you that he knew several secret ways to exit Hogwarts. It didn’t surprise you at all that they had helped him sneak out.

“Your laugh is beautiful,” he said to himself. You nearly didn’t hear it leave his mouth as he looked down at you, but now that you had a small smile situated itself on your lips.

Though one of Remus’s hands had left your face burning, the other still hadn’t left your hand. Remus stepped closer again. He was then able to intertwine your fingers together comfortably. Remus’s warmth radiated off him calming the chills on your arms.

“Can I kiss you?” he said softly. When you went to speak, you choked on your own throat, so you just nodded at him. Slowly, he returned his hand to your cheek and oved his lips to connect with yours.

The kiss itself was just as beautiful as you had expected it to be. His lips were rough against yours, but you didn’t mind as they pressed themselves gently into yours. The hand that had been intertwined with yours was now wrapped around your waist. Your hands found their way to rest on his neck without you even realizing.

The kiss didn’t last long, but it had exceeded all expectations you had about. Remus’s breath fanned over your lips as he moved back just little to rest his forehead on yours. Slowly your hands found each other again. The two of you stood there like that for what seemed like an infinity until you heard the door open.

“Remus?” you heard McGonagall call out. Her voice startled both of you from your daze. Your eyes flashed to the woman and then to Remus who was staring at McGonagall.

“Shit,” he said. He pressed a quick kiss against your lips before he left running past McGonagall, out of your sight. McGonagall looked like she was about to go after him when she returned his gaze to you.

“What was Remus Lupin doing here Ms.[Mr.] Y/L/N,” McGonagall used her disciplinary voice. Your eyes seemed to become the size of saucers as you stared at the women. Guiltily, you shrugged your shoulders.

“I- I don’t kn-know,” you sputtered unable to come up with a good excuse. “Well, I think it’s best to not bring this up to Dumbledore when we get back,” she said. It surprised you that she was so calm about it. You nodded rapidly in reply.

“Now we have best get going,” McGonagall said holding her arm out to you. You picked up your flowers and violin before linking your arm with hers. In a blink of an eye, the two of you apparated away.

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