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dustedmagazine · 9 months

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Listed: Emma Hospelhorn

Emma Hospelhorn is a jazz and improvisational flutist who works with Ensemble Dal Niente, The Machine is Neither…and her solo art-folk project Em Spel, whose The Carillion Towers Jennifer Kelly reviewed last year for Dusted, calling it “ folktale turned oddly, surreally modern, a magical realist scenario set in the right now.” Hospelhorn’s Em Spel project has a new single coming out on her own Carillionia Records in August, the ominously beautiful, “My Oldest Friend.” A new full-length is on deck for 2024.

Here is a list of music that inspires her.

Karima Walker — “Reconstellated”

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The delicate grace of the electronics, the subtlety of the unassuming strummed guitar, the intimacy of the vocals, the best use in history of the reverse effect. I remember thinking the song couldn’t possibly be this good when I got tickets to see her live, and then it was.

Bilal Nasser — “Exiles and Orange Groves”

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Bilal Nasser describes his evocative, kaleidoscopic solo guitar music as “post-classical.” I think it's just beautiful. Of his album Where The Orange Groves Grow, he says, “I couldn't put out an album called Where the Orange Groves Grow, really a reflection of the stories of refugees and exiles I’ve been surrounded by my whole life, without saying something about what is happening this second in the same place. Therefore, the proceeds from the digital release will be donated to Islamic Relief, to help rebuild Gaza. If this music means anything to you, fight for Palestine, fight for black lives, and fight for indigenous rights on Turtle Island.”

Pamela Z — “Breathing” (live)

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Watching the legendary Pamela Z using a hand-based gestural controller to manipulate her own voice into loops as she sings — and slow it down, and speed it up, and layer it, and turn it on, and turn it off — is just… so… cool.

Paul Brady — “Arthur McBride” (live)

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The story-song in its ultimate form. Putting aside Paul Brady’s unreal guitar playing, one of my favorite things about this performance is the way the intensifying fight in the story gets reflected in his tone and the increasing number of vocal flourishes. I still remember the first time my friend Jesse Langen played this for me in my car as we were driving home from a gig. After I dropped him off, I listened to it on repeat all the way home.

Brittany Howard — “Stay High,” “Georgia,” “Baby” and “Goat Head”

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I know everyone has already seen this Tiny Desk Concert. But it’s a perfect performance of four perfect songs.

Eno-Hyde — “Lilac”

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High Life came out 9 years ago, and I still can’t stop listening to it — especially Lilac, which is joyful, repetitive, and gives me a nine-minute-long body high. The textures unfold slowly and inexorably over one ecstatic major chord that lasts so long that when a three-note bass progression joins in at the end, followed by a final chorus, the effect is of revelation after revelation.

Oui Ennui — Live session, ESS Quarantine Concerts (live)

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Oui Ennui takes us on a long, fascinating ride in this 30-minute-long live quarantine set, from peaceful soundscapes to full dance party mode. I like watching this set because watching him sample/mix/create in real-time is kind of astonishing. If you ever get the chance to see him live, do so.

Josquin Des Prez — “La Deploration sur la Mort de Jean Ockhegem”

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This piece was written in 1497 and I love it so much. The soaring vocal lines! The spine-tingling harmonic shifts! Des Prez wrote this as a memorial for his (maybe) teacher, Jean Ockhegem, and it’s devastating.

En Attendant Ana — “Wonder”

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This song feels like sunshine to me. Sparkling guitar and vocals over a driving bassline that sounds like it’s just so much fun to play, rising into an extended psych freakout. The ultimate soundtrack to walking down a city street on a clear blue day.

Amanda DeBoer Bartlett — “Measure My Life” (live)

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This is just a simple, perfect folk song by Amanda DeBoer Bartlett, who is better known for her work in experimental and new music. The lyrics make me cry every time. “Save your judgement for the pearly gates; I’ll measure my life in what I give away.”

#dusted magazine #listed #Emma Hospelhorn #Em Spel #Karima Walker #Bilal Nasser #pamela z #paul brady #brittany howard #Eno-Hyde #Oui Ennui #josquin des prez #En Atendant Ana #Amanda DeBoer Bartlett #Youtube

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sheetmusiclibrarypdf · 1 year

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Mancini - The Pink Panther Theme Easy Piano Solo arr. (sheet music)

Mancini - The Pink Panther Theme Easy Piano Solo arr. (sheet music) Henry Mancini Please, subscribe to our Library. Thank you! Best Sheet Music download from our Library. Mancini's Filmography

Mancini - The Pink Panther Theme Easy Piano Solo arr. (sheet music)

https://youtu.be/5RtjfNpzqJE

Henry Mancini

Henry Mancini was an American composer, conductor, arranger, pianist and flutist. Often cited as one of the greatest composers in the history of film, he won four Academy Awards, a Golden Globe, and twenty Grammy Awards, plus a posthumous Grammy Lifetime Achievement Award in 1995. His works include the theme and soundtrack for the Peter Gunn television series, as well as the music for The Pink Panther film series ("The Pink Panther Theme") and "Moon River" from Breakfast at Tiffany's. The Music from Peter Gunn, Mr. Lucky, won the inaugural Grammy Award for Album of the Year. Mancini enjoyed a long collaboration in composing film scores for the film director Blake Edwards. Mancini also scored a No. 1 hit single during the rock era on the Hot 100: his arrangement and recording of the "Love Theme from Romeo and Juliet" spent two weeks at the top, starting with the week ending June 28, 1969. In 1996, the Henry Mancini Institute, an academy for young music professionals, was founded by Jack Elliott in Mancini's honor, and was later under the direction of composer-conductor Patrick Williams. By the mid-2000s, however, the institute could not sustain itself and closed its doors on December 30, 2006. The American Society of Composers, Authors and Publishers (ASCAP) Foundation "Henry Mancini Music Scholarship" has been awarded annually since 2001. In 2005, the Henry Mancini Arts Academy was opened as a division of the Lincoln Park Performing Arts Center. The center is located in Midland, Pennsylvania, minutes away from Mancini's hometown of Aliquippa. The Henry Mancini Arts Academy is an evening-and-weekend performing arts program for children from pre-K to grade 12, with some classes also available for adults. The program includes dance, voice, musical theater, and instrumental lessons. The American Film Institute ranked Mancini's songs "Moon River" No. 4 and "Days of Wine and Roses" No. 39 on their list of the greatest songs, and his score for The Pink Panther No. 20 on their list of the greatest film scores. His scores for Breakfast at Tiffany's (1961), Charade (1963), Hatari! (1962), Touch of Evil (1958) and Wait Until Dark (1967) were also nominated for the list.

Mancini's Filmography

The Raiders (1952) The Glenn Miller Story (1953) Abbott and Costello Go to Mars (1953) Law and Order (1953) City Beneath the Sea (1953) Destry (1954) Creature from the Black Lagoon (1954) The Private War of Major Benson (1955) The Benny Goodman Story (1956) The Creature Walks Among Us (1956) Rock, Pretty Baby (1956) Summer Love (1957) Damn Citizen (1958) Touch of Evil (1958) The Big Beat (1958) Operation Petticoat (1959) High Time (1960) The Great Impostor (1960) Breakfast at Tiffany's (1961) Bachelor in Paradise (1961) Experiment in Terror (1962) Mr. Hobbs Takes a Vacation (1962) Hatari! (1962) Days of Wine and Roses (1962) Soldier in the Rain (1963) Charade (1963) The Pink Panther (1963) Man's Favorite Sport? (1964) A Shot in the Dark (1964) Dear Heart (1964) The Great Race (1965) Moment to Moment (1966) Arabesque (1966) What Did You Do in the War, Daddy? (1966) Two for the Road (1967) Gunn ...Number One! (1967) Wait Until Dark (1967) The Party (1968) Me, Natalie (1969) Gaily, Gaily (1969) The Molly Maguires (1970) Sunflower (1970) The Hawaiians (1970) Darling Lili (1970) The Night Visitor (1971) Sometimes a Great Notion (1971) Frenzy (Rejected Score) (1972) The Thief Who Came To Dinner (1973) Visions of Eight (1973) Oklahoma Crude (1973) That's Entertainment! (1974) The White Dawn (1974) The Girl from Petrovka (1974) 99 and 44/100% Dead (1974) The Great Waldo Pepper (1975) The Return of the Pink Panther (1975) Jacqueline Susann's Once Is Not Enough (1975) W.C. Fields and Me (1976) Silver Streak (1976) The Pink Panther Strikes Again (1976) Angela (1977) House Calls (1978) Revenge of the Pink Panther (1978) Who Is Killing the Great Chefs of Europe? (1978) The Prisoner of Zenda (1979) Nightwing (1979) 10 (1979) Little Miss Marker (1980) A Change of Seasons (1980) Back Roads (1981) S.O.B. (1981) Condorman (1981) Mommie Dearest (1981) Victor Victoria (1982) Trail of the Pink Panther (1982) Better Late Than Never (1983) Second Thoughts (1983) Curse of the Pink Panther (1983) The Man Who Loved Women (1983) Harry & Son (1984) That's Dancing (1985) Lifeforce (1985) Santa Claus: The Movie (1985) The Great Mouse Detective (1986) A Fine Mess (1986) That's Life! (1986) Blind Date (1987) The Glass Menagerie (1987) Sunset (1988) Without a Clue (1988) Physical Evidence (1989) Welcome Home (1989) Ghost Dad (1990) Fear (1990) Switch (1991) Married to It (1991) Tom and Jerry: The Movie (1992) Son of the Pink Panther (1993) Read the full article

#noten #sheetmusicdownload #sheetmusicscoredownloadpartiturapartitionspartitinoten楽譜망할음악ноты

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newslabs · 1 year

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Lizzo moved to tears by Christmas message from flutist James Galway

Music artist Lizzo broke down in tears after receiving a personal Christmas message from world-renowned flutist James Galway. The “Tempo” singer shared in an Instagram story a clip of the 83-year-old Galway playing the well-known “We Wish You A Merry Christmas” on his flute before wishing Lizzo a merry Christmas and describing himself as her “number one fan.” After sharing Galway’s well-wishes,…

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hawnks · 2 years

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You say, “But good is subjective. When you’re young, doing anything is an accomplishment. But you get out into the world, and you realize nothing you do is particularly special.”

Alright no need to call me out damn

ansjsjewjdkkd ok i have a lil story for you

so, i have played the flute for 15 years. when i started i was around 9 years old, and it was summer break. during that period i was left alone for most of the day, and literally all i did was practice. i would practice for hours and hours at a time. i sounded like i had been playing for years. i got signed up for lessons because the flute teacher at the local music school thought i was a prodigy. the only reason i had an instrument that didnt have the tone of something i’d picked out of the trash (which was basically the case with my first one lol) was because a benefactor heard me play and bequeathed me her old (expensive) concert flute. everyone had very, very high hopes for me.

but the thing that would eventually become apparent to my teachers: i couldn’t count and play at the same time. i don’t know why, but i just couldn’t do that kind of multitasking. the numbers got all mixed up in my head, and i fell out of beat very quickly. to me, music was about feeling, not accuracy. i could make anything sound good, but very rarely was it correct. which is a cardinal sin of musicianship. one that disappointed and frustrated basically everyone in my life, and set me up for a rough future as a flutist. apparently, i wasn’t gifted — i just loved it a whole lot. and for a very short while, that had been enough.

my highschool was huge. there were about 30 other people specializing in my instrument, more who could play it casually. among them, i was middle of the road, at best. i picked up bass and alto flute on my way out and into college, two instruments that are incredibly niche (i was the only bass flute player in my county), just to free myself from the constant pressure of Not Being Good Enough. or, at least, not as good as everyone expected me to be. but by then playing the flute had already lost the magic it used to have when i was younger. i no longer played for hours. i hardly played at all.

sophomore year i was home from college for the winter. i picked up my c-flute on a whim (at that point i hadn’t touched it in months), went through a collection of Vivaldi etudes on my shelf, one of my very first music books. they were simple songs, hardly impressive. i still couldn’t play them accurately. not the way someone who had played for as long as i had should be able to.

the next morning i was sitting at the kitchen table with my ma. she had run into our neighbor last night, a sweet little old woman named Sara. my ma told me Sara asked about me, and the Vivaldi i’d butchered my way through:

“She’s glad you’re playing again. She missed hearing you.”

and like….maybe this doesn’t seem all that important. the conversation took up probably 30 seconds of my life. but it kind of rocked me to my core. because i wasn’t a prodigy anymore; a lot of times I wasn’t even good.

but that didn’t matter to Sara, because she didn’t hear good or bad. what she heard was music.

subjectivity goes both ways. someone out there will love your Vivaldi, my darling. even if you play off beat.

#I’m sorry if this sounds preachy anjsndnd this moment just had a profound impact on me #you say ‘amateur’ as if it is a dirty word. ‘amateur’ comes from the Latin word ‘amare’ which means to love.#to do things for the love of it #—Mozart in the jungle #:’)#mint talks #my c-flutes name is pluto :)

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usergreenpixel · 2 years

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Frev prompts, Part 12! We’re officially reaching the number 100, Citizens! I honestly thought I’d be done with the prompts at this point but trust me, I still have ideas.

96. The protagonist is a fairly average person. A workaholic with almost no time to spare for personal life, they hate the job and the abusive boss but believe that they have no other option in life.

Or rather, they used to believe it until a chance encounter with one Monsieur Berthier, an equally overworked and miserable man who seems to have arrived from a different time period by unknown means. This encounter, Berthier’s mental state that mirrors that of the protagonist to an alarming degree and other mysterious events force the protagonist to question their life choices and consider other options for the first time in years.

Moreover, when the protagonist turns to a relative who owns a time machine and tries to return their new acquaintance home, the machine malfunctions and traps the protagonist and Monsieur Berthier in France of 1789, where the French Revolution is about to begin.

Stranded in 1789 and only able to rely on each other, the two must survive, return to their respective time periods and try not to accidentally mess up history while they’re at it. It’s not easy, but at least Monsieur Berthier seems quite versed in the history of the Revolution…

97. When the protagonist, a stereotypical adventurous investigative reporter with a budding interest in the French Revolution, is sent undercover to an asylum to investigate its conditions, they are determined to expose whatever is going on in that sketchy institution, not expecting any surprises.

Interestingly enough, the surprises do come in the form of the three people who the protagonist first meets in the asylum - an avid (yet terrible) flutist named Michel, a womanizing man with only one eye and a knack for finding treasures called André and a woman who responds to the unusual name of Theroigne.

While all of them seem to have genuine issues with their mental health, the protagonist can’t help but get the impression that there’s something off about their new allies, as if they’re not even from our time period.

Being a good intrepid reporter, the protagonist decides to continue the investigation. Who runs this strange place? Why would they lock up historical figures? Are André’s words about a secret treasure being hidden on the premises true? And could this be the undisclosed location to which the protagonist’s mother, a reclusive French Revolution enthusiast called Charlotte, had been taken a while ago?

98. In 1789, as the events of the Revolution are only beginning to unfold, a dying noble leaves his son everything, on the condition that said son marries a particular noblewoman from a powerful family.

While at first the arrangement doesn’t seem all that unusual, soon the main character notices that this noblewoman is a sympathizer of the revolutionaries and exhibits suspicious behavior from time to time.

Could she be in cahoots with the revolutionaries? Why would the nobleman’s father arrange for his son to marry a “rebel”?

Overcome by questions with no answers in sight, the main character follows his future spouse to one of her “meetings with friends”...

99. 1804, Paris. Napoleon Bonaparte has just become the Emperor of the French. Seeing as he is at the top of the country’s hierarchy, it seems like his authority won’t be challenged by anyone in their right mind.

That is until a group of Jacobins, furious that one of their own betrayed the Revolution and became a monarch (albeit with a different fancy title), steps in and plans a coup to get rid of this Corsican nuisance.

And, as it turns out, they’re not alone in their desire to get rid of the emperor, for these Jacobins find an extremely unlikely ally in one Joseph Fouché, who has just been appointed as the Minister of Police for the second time. Now this cunning cruel fox, having caught wind of what these Jacobins are planning, has just contacted them and offered them his help with the coup.

And even though the Jacobins agree to this alliance, they are far from stupid and fully aware of the crimes that Fouché covered up years ago. It doesn’t help that one of the rebels is from Lyon while the other is trying to avenge one of the executed Montagnards for a personal reason.

Cunning as the mitrailleur of Lyon might be, his decision might just contribute to dire consequences and ensure his long overdue downfall…

100. When the two protagonists first came to Paris during their travels, they didn’t quite expect to end up trapped in France and become caught up in the events of the Revolution.

Unfortunately for them, this is exactly what happens and although the protagonists try to stay out of the conflict altogether at first, they too end up roped into the situation when they help a wounded man hide from pursuers.

Said man turns out to be a revolutionary and, claiming that associating with him is putting the protagonists into hot water already, offers them to join the cause in exchange for an opportunity to leave France as soon as the Jacobins succeed.

Despite all the potential risks, the offer sounds tempting and, as the saying goes, desperate times call for desperate measures...

#marshal berthier #louis alexandre berthier #michel ney #marshal ney #andre massena #marshal massena #theroigne de mericourt #charlotte robespierre #napoleon bonaparte #I still refuse to make a fouche tag #frev writing prompts #french revolution #frev #history #robespierre #french history

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prodtrouver · 3 years

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Idol!Taehyun x violinist! Reader

Where Taehyun was missioned to work in a music shop for their variety show, To Do. Only to meet someone who absolutely lovestruck him.

Taehyun tries to help as many customers as he could for his To Do mission.

He tried talking to them about they need for their instruments. The sweetest smile on his lips as he charmed everyone who enters the music shop.

Pianist, guitarist, flutist, violinist, and much more enter the minimalistic music shop. The aura was great and everyone, including the workers who enjoy this job.

"Excuse me," Taehyun turns his head to the side to see a very familiar person. His eyes widen,

"What are you doing here, Noona?" He asked his big sister who chuckled.

"I'm here to accompany my friend," she shoves you to her side. You softly let out a grunt as you greeted the idol who was immediately in awe.

"Do you know where the violin strings are?" You asked, Taehyun snapped out of his trance. Your melodic voice echoed in his head as he tries to look for words to answer your question.

Although, a single yes would be enough.

"I can take you there?" He reached out his arm to the direction. You nodded your head as you both followed the blonde.

He opens a drawer to reveal carefully packed violin strings.

"What string do you need?" Taehyun asked as he watched you pull out your white violin. Taehyun stood there, surprised at how beautiful the instrument was.

"What do you think?" You asked her sister who hummed.

"I need the E string really needs changing and the D string looks really worn out." His sister pointed out, you bopped your head.

"I'll take the E and D string then," you sweetly smiled. Taehyun immediately nodded and took out the two pages carefully.

"May I change them here?" You asked once more to which his face sparkled, his sister silently laughed.

"Of course," Taehyun led you to the work station. Cameras pointed at you both whilst he helps you, who is just another customer. Obvious to everyone, you have captured his heart.

"Watch out!" You both flinch your head to the side when you heard a shattering sound. Soon, it was accompanied by a child crying.

You rushed to the child's side and made sure they don't move. The shattered vase surrounded the young boy who cried.

"Hey, don't move," you softly said as the boy looked at you. You were about to touch the broken porcelain until someone grabbed your palm. You turn your head to see Taehyun.

"Watch your hands, you're a violinist, those hands are precious." He says calmly while he carefully picks up the porcelain shards with his gloves hands.

Your other hand held your other whilst you watched Taehyun clean up the broken mess.

Finally, the young boy ran up to his mother after the shards have been cleaned. The staff immediately apologizes to the parents who look more apologetic.

"Are you okay?" Taehyun asked you as he gave the gloves and the plastic to another staff.

"I'm alright, how about you?" You unconsciously took his hand into yours and observed it. Despite him wearing gloves, the glvoes was thin, so cuts were still possible.

"I'm fine, no need to worry. Anyway, your hands are much more vulnerable than mine. I should be the worried one," Taehyun softly says.

He walks back towards the work desk where he begins to carefully attach the new strings to your violin.

"Thank you," you softly muttered to Taehyun. He felt his cheeks burn at the flustered state you made him.

"You're welcome," soon, he finishes with your violin. You both walked to the cashier where he was ready to say your payment.

"Here is your change," he hands you the cash. You hand him a small sticky note. His sister watched in awe.

Taehyun glimpses at what you have written and laughed. He slightly bowed his head, happy that you gave him your number.

"See you again next time," he says while you bid each other your goodbyes, for now.

- admin lin ❤️

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15-dogs · 3 years

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planetarium |s.b.|

pairing: young!sirius black x reader

summary: after watching and falling for sirius black without ever talking to him, you finally get to speak with him at the most inopportune time

warnings: none

prompt: planetarium from la la land

guide: (Y/L/N) = your last name

word count: 2.1K

a/n: this is for @vivianweasley‘s writing challenge (which you can find right here!) congrats again on 400!!

All night, your eyes would flicker across the crowded ballroom towards the pianist. He was elegant yet fierce, sitting up straight against the hard, wooden bench, his overworked hands touching the keys with a gentleness that strangely fit him. Even as suitor after suitor came to you and asked for a dance, your eyes would find him, that blank, raven haired man.

Every now and then, the man would look up at you and catch you staring at him. He would show no emotion either way, but he never did; he was a keeper of a million secrets of which all were his own.

Although he was emotionless, you most certainly were not. You’ve had your eyes on the man ever since your parents forced you into these ceremonies. There was something about him that piqued your interest. At nights you would lie awake in bed just thinking about what it would be like if he was there beside you. You imagined that he’d be good company, he would laugh at your jokes and be quite funny himself. But those were all daydreams, seeing as you’d never really spoken to the man yourself.

You’d heard things about him through word of mouth, that he was a troublemaker at school and that his younger brother, Regulus, was quite the opposite. Regulus was a good fit for you, your parents assured you. Likely because you were at the Black family residence and your parents finally understood just how wealthy they were; wealthy enough to buy expansion charms in their home to add the pristine ballroom you sat in. Either way, your parents were quite adamant about you meeting him. Perhaps that’s why he was walking towards you with the determination of a brainwashed man. Your eyes flitted over towards the grand piano, hoping to catch a glimpse of the pianist one last time before his brother approached you but he was gone. You scanned the room in a panic, wondering how you would survive the rest of the night if you couldn’t imagine each suitor were him when you spotted him slipping out of the ballroom door.

Pretending you didn’t notice Regulus walking towards you, you jumped from your seat and integrated yourself within the throng of pureblood parents and their spoiled children, just long enough for you, yourself, to slip out the door. As soon as you stepped into the long, marble hallway, you slipped off your shoes— you feared that the tapping of your heels against the tiles would alert someone inside the ballroom to your presence. It was highly unlikely, however, due to the soft music that still thrummed in the hall.

As you neared the end of the hallway, you found the pianist leaning over a railing in front of an empty column of space in his family’s home. You placed your shoes near the opening of the hallway, hoping to sneak around and get a better look at what the man stared hopelessly at. You rounded him, stepping beside his slouched form. You glanced up at a purple and black mist that was suspended midair, dotted with twinkling white stars that formed constellations.

“I know who you are,” you began. You were nervous as it was your first time speaking to him in real life, not in your fantasies. He either didn’t sense it or completely did, as he didn’t budge at the sound of your voice. Yet, you persevered. “You’re the pianist, Sirius, Orion’s son.”

The pale man stood straight up. “Yes, I’m the pianist.”

“And Orion’s son,” you finished. He frowned.

“It’s a bad idea to be speaking with me, you know.” Sirius looked over his coarse hands, massaging them from his hours of playing.

You looked to the side to meet his gaze which had been blatantly avoiding you. His gray eyes met yours, and you suddenly could see all that emotion that he had been hiding. It was then that you realized you’d never been close enough to understand him.

“Since when have you been afraid of getting in a little trouble?”

Sirius snorted at your comment, clearly amused by your teasing. He looked back down at his hands and then up at the constellations in the planetarium. You could see the stars reflect in his eyes, like he was absorbing everything he saw. As the lights illuminated his face, you recognized a sadness— a loneliness— that you’d only seen in yourself before.

The music still serenaded you from down the hall, giving you an idea. You took a few steps away from Sirius, his attention peeling away from the enchanted constellations to eye you. As soon as he turned fully around, you took the sides of your dress and curtsied at him. Sirius looked around you as if to make sure no one was watching, then he bowed back.

You danced. Formally, sure, but you two didn’t know any other way. It was a careful waltz, your dress flowing behind you as you spun together. His hand rested perfectly on your back, like it was meant to be there. Your eyes shut as you followed his movements, perfectly content with how the night was going.

“I know you too, you know,” he whispered gruffly against your ear. Your eyes snapped open and met his. “Top of your class at Beauxbatons. You’re here because your parents want to marry you off to some other pureblood family. You’ve got quite the number of suitors lined up for you— my brother being one.”

Your stomach sank. You were hoping that he didn’t know, or at least wouldn’t bring it up. “And why, may I ask, aren’t you one of my suitors?”

Sirius looked away from you then, slowing his movements. “My family advises that I'd be better off with someone I can’t corrupt, mind you.”

You furrowed your brow. “What are you saying? That I’m innocent? Corruptible, even? Or is this your way of saying you wish you were one of my suitors?”

Sirius stifled a handsome chuckle that had your stomach turning. “You brought it up, (Y/L/N). If I didn’t know any better I’d assume you want me to be your suitor.”

“It’s a lovely thing that you know better, isn’t it, then?”

The song slowed to a quiet, almost nothingness, the sounds of both your quiet laughing overwhelming the solo from the flutist. You ran your hands down his arms as he did the same to yours before letting go of each other completely and walking towards the railing again.

Sirius smiled genuinely at you and your heart fluttered. You were right about it, being close to him and all— it truly was the only way to understand him.

He raised a hand and pointed at the mass of magicked stars, performing wandless magic to reveal his constellation. If he was speaking, you couldn’t hear it. You were far too enthralled by his features, hoping to uncover more about him than you had heard through rumors. The man was an enigma to you, a puzzle, a riddle, but you were not about to give up when he made you feel the way you did by just looking at you.

He must’ve felt your stare because he stopped talking and turned to study you. His head rested delicately in his hands and you mimicked his pose. He let out a soft exhale at your demeanor before asking, “What?”

You knew that it was crazy, just a little bit, to be telling this boy that you hadn’t known for more than 10 minutes about your feelings but you simply couldn’t help it. A part of you felt like you had known him for years because, in a way, you had. All those pointless and idiotic ways to marry you off and preserve your family’s bloodline was just another way for you to pretend that Sirius’s perfectly rough and strong hands were in yours, not the creepy guy who would make passing comments about muggleborns and halfbloods that your friends would talk about back at school. The nights that you would lie awake to pretend that Sirius was joking beside you in your bed made you feel like you knew him. But the more you spoke with him, the more you could feel that invisible string between you tighten. You just hoped he felt that pull as well.

“May I admit something to you?” you began.

Sirius’ lips twitched into a smirk. “With such good manners, how could I say no?”

You chuckled softly to relieve your nerves. “I’ve been watching you for quite some time, Sirius. I know who you are because I see you at all these ceremonies and I don’t know how to describe it but I feel...connected to you, if that makes sense.”

His tall body went rigid and his eyes glazed over like a defense mechanism so you couldn’t see what he was feeling. He shook his head and clenched his eyelids shut as he processed what you had said. “No, no,” he mumbled, “you can’t just do that, you can’t just fancy me.” He finally looked at you, barely regaining his composure. “I’m not good for you, my parents will never approve. It just...it simply won’t work.”

You blinked in shock. You weren’t sure what you were expecting but it certainly wasn’t that. You swallowed thickly. “Do you feel the same way, Sirius? Do you have feelings for me?”

He didn’t respond and it broke your heart.

But, being the polite and respectful person you were taught to be, you graciously accepted his nothingness and stepped back, knowing that you had to return to the ball. You curtsied and bowed your head. Just as you were about to lift it, Sirius tucked his hand underneath your chin, tipping you up and smashing his lips against yours.

You felt a swell in your chest, like you were so light you could float off the ground. If someone had told you that the song had ended in the ballroom, you wouldn’t believe them because in that moment all you could hear was a grand orchestra coming together perfectly in a great crescendo. The room was spinning around you and by Merlin you were going to hold on for dear life, anchoring your hands onto his broad shoulders.

Sirius pulled away after placing one more careful peck against your lips. He rested his forehead against yours as he panted out, “I’m running away tonight, this— we— are a bad idea. You can’t fall in love with a runaway blood traitor.”

You didn’t have a choice in what you said, the words bubbled up from inside of you, from a place of wanting and yearning. You hadn’t even processed what you said until the words came out of your mouth.

“I’d rather fall in love with someone I’m truly in love with. So be it.”

A soft hum of a waltz came flooding in from the ballroom and Sirius placed one hand on your back and the other in yours and once more, you two began to dance. Your dress swept behind you with each turn. Sirius slowed to a stop as his eyes landed on your feet.

“Where did your shoes go?” he asked between a hearty laugh.

You glanced over your shoulder to see if they were still where you left them. “It’s not easy to sneak out of a ball in heels.”

At the mention of the ball, Sirius took a sobering breath, as did you. He placed a hand on your neck and sighed. “You have to go back to the ball. We’re going to arouse suspicions if we’re both missing for this long.”

He waited for you to move but you didn’t, you couldn’t. Not now, knowing that he was going to leave his family and quite possibly you forever. He saw that hollow look in your eyes and held you tighter.

“I’ll write to you when I’m out, when I’m safe. We’ll see each other again without the bloody awful formal clothes and families to impress. I promise.”

He moved his hand up to your cheek and cupped it, your eyes fluttering shut and an amused smile tugging at your lips. “I’ll wait for you. Be safe.”

You opened your eyes to see Sirius nod and retract his hands from you. “Now, go,” he whispered, and for the first time, you didn’t have to be close to him to see his emotion. It was thick in his voice, the sorrow and longing. In a strange way, it warmed your heart, seeing that he felt that invisible string, too.

You scurried off towards the hallway to retrieve your shoes. Just as you slipped them on and were about to stand up, Sirius pulled you to your full height and kissed you ferociously once more, in that same way where you felt like you were floating in a sea of music. And as his lips moved in sync with yours, you hoped— no, you knew— that that would not be the last time Sirius Black would make you feel more than you had ever felt before.

#vivianweasley400wc #sirius black #sirius black x reader #sirius black x you #sirius black headcanon #sirius black imagine #young sirius black #young sirius imagine #young sirius x reader #la la land

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mythgirlimagines · 3 years

Note

Decisions, decisions, I want to send my fangan talents for a talent swap but I don't want to spoil my fic's ???, you know what? ??? can be it's own talent

Paranormal Investigator, Surfer, Mathematician, Luck, Baker, Game Developer, Seamster, Conductor, ???, Ambassador, Blogger, Tattooist, Archer, Barber, Flutist, and Soapmaker for any group

Archer Blogger and Lucky Student solidarity!

Sayaka Maizono (Paranormal Investigator):

She uses her psychic powers (intuition) to find paranormal beings.

Sometimes she even livestreams what she’s doing!

She’s gained a pretty big following.

Mukuro Ikusaba (Surfer):

Despite being in the sun a lot, she’s still pretty pale.

But she’s also one of the best.

She doesn’t really like showing off, though.

Leon Kuwata (Mathematician):

Believe it or not, he’s really good with numbers.

They’re concrete, and there’s always a right answer.

That’s incredibly satisfying.

Chihiro Fujisaki (Lucky Student):

His luck, both good and bad, usually only comes in small amounts.

He’s perfectly fine with that.

Especially given some of the luck he’s seen other people have...

Mondo Owada (Baker):

He’s a stress baker.

Eventually once he started sharing his baking, he began to make a name for himself.

He’s only a year or two off from having his own bakery.

Kiyotaka Ishimaru (Game Developer):

Usually he starts out with an equation and goes from there.

Each step he takes can be tweaked, of course, to provide for a lot of fun for the players.

He’s always open to collabs.

Hifumi Yamada (Seamster):

Usually a lot of what he works on are cosplay commissions.

But he’s also done wardrobe for some small shows and even makes some of his own clothes!

It’s just something he enjoys.

Celeste Ludenberg (Conductor):

She very much seems like a conductor.

She’s very organized and knows how to keep everyone in time.

Though apart from that, she doesn’t listen to music herself.

Sakura Ogami (???):

She didn’t know what her talent was, and it didn’t really bother her.

It certainly didn’t stop her from making friends at Hope’s Peak.

So it was okay.

Junko Enoshima (Ambassador):

Believe it or not, she actually gets along well with some people.

She’s really good at negotiating, too.

So being an ambassador fits her well.

Makoto Naegi (Blogger):

His blog is a mix of personal and facts about Hope’s Peak students.

And he has some of the best, nicest anons!

Really, it’s a lot of fun for him to run.

Kyoko Kirigiri (Tattooist):

She has yet to make a single mistake.

Her hand is always very steady.

And while she doesn’t have any tattoos herself, she’s looking into a couple.

Byakuya Togami (Archer):

He doesn’t show off his talent too much just out of spite.

It wasn’t like there was more than one archery range at the school anyway.

He sometimes holed up there for a while.

Toko Fukawa (Flutist):

In her mind, she fit all the necessary stereotypes of “band geek.”

Though, really, her music is amazing.

Her classmates keep trying to listen in while she’s practicing.

Yasuhiro Hagakure (Barber):

There’s a sort of irony about this, given how hard his hair is to wrangle.

But he’s really good at working on others’ hair.

He’s never had a dissatisfied customer!

Aoi Asahina (Soapmaker):

It started out as just a hobby when she was younger.

Then as she got older, she was more and more passionate about it.

So, boom, talent!

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intunewithpow · 3 years

Text

My Baby ; My Flute

A universal language, it speaks to me

It can be complicated to a certain degree

A way of expressing

Anti-stressing

Overall refreshing

I learned the flute when I was four

Ever since then I wanted to learn more

Breathing from my lungs, I have to use my tongue

Fingering on top of the keys, made out of silver and gold or from the trees

Playing by memory, pretending I’m from a different century

It is complimentary, not just an accessory

My possession and pride, I always keep by my side

Auditions let me show off my skill, it gives me quite a thrill

I have performed for weddings, funerals and gigs

Even with an orchestra n’sync with the strings

Accompanied by a diversity of instruments, for different types of events

My favourite is the piano and the guitar, pretending I’m a superstar

Proper posture: feet apart, arms up and back straight

My teacher would always remind me and demonstrate

Practice makes perfect unless you’re doing it wrong

Confidence plays a part; it makes you appear strong

I love to jam by myself or in front of a crowd

I am in no need of a microphone, my tone is pretty loud

It is a hobby for me, no, more of a passion

It gives me quite the satisfaction

Seven different types of flutes, some may giggle when I toot

I like dressing up in a dress or a suit

Part of the woodwinds clan, learning to spit rice is where it all began

This was all a part of my parents plan

It was on my to do list, to be a flautist or flutist

Rather play my flute than just exist

It is my profession if you get the impression

It is my number one talent, that is no question

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forgotten-envies · 3 years

Text

Thank you for the tag @gusu-emilu ! It’s been long enough since I’ve done something like this that people might find this interesting lol.

Part I

name: my internet name is Beria! Cause I ain’t tellin the internet at large my real one

pronouns: she/her

star sign: Libra 💜

height: about 5’7”

time: 8:17 pm

birthday: October 💜

nationality: American

fave bands/groups: Mumford and Sons, *checks Spotify* Sleeping At Last, The Script (take this with a grain of salt. I listen to genres, not groups, generally)

fave solo artists: Alec Benjamin, Hozier, Frank Sinatra (I see ya Emilu!), uhhh recently discovered the flutist Emmanuel Pahud and I might be in love

song stuck in your head: From Eden from Hozier

last movie you watched: Kiki’s Delivery Service about a month ago.

last show you binged: ummm The King Eternal Monarch

when you created your blog: J-June?? 2020 I think. Is there a way to check?

last thing you googled: “when was Martin Luther?” (The Protestant)

other blogs: my main (unfortunately) is @beria1021

why you chose your url: one of the meanings of my real name is “no envy” so I changed wangxian, “forgetting envies” to fit that meaning.

how many people are you following: 162. I’d take more recs for maybe more obscure mdzs/tgcf blogs since I follow a lot of popular content producers that don’t post often. My dash is kinda empty!

how many followers do you have: 47 for this blog. Love y’all!

average hours of sleep: I think I average 7 now. Used to be less, so we’re getting better!

lucky numbers: dunno about lucky but I love the number 484

instruments: western flute, learning dizi and xiao, and I play piano for my school jazz band... even though I only know the basics. (I can’t even do scales on it)

what you’re currently wearing: black athletic jacket I stole from my mother years ago, a school shirt, and ripped jeans.

dream job: I’d love to play flute for a living, but I’m not sure I have the discipline for it. I just hope I’ll be able to do my job well.

dream trip: my family is Gaelic so I’d love to visit Scotland and Ireland!

fave food: Many things! Yeah I love food. Soups, cheesecake, potatoes. My favorite depends on the day!

top three fictional universes you’d like to live in: Emilu I’m not sure yours can be topped! Hmm. Middle Earth, Soulmate/Soulmarks au (it’s technically fictional!), Harry Potter

Part II

last song: American Pie (it’s playing somewhere in the house right now)

currently reading: Love, in Fire and Blood by cicer. Wangxian fanfiction, 300k. Man, is it a doozy

currently watching: watching an episode of Guardian with my mother every few weeks.

what is antipoetry to you: I have literally (heh) never heard of this before. The dictionary definition is “A literary movement that attempts to break away from the normal conventions of poetry”? Sooo uuhhh sounds fine to me? Write what you like?

currently craving: you made me laugh Emilu! I hope the will finds you. Not to get deep, but I’m craving direction in my life. And a little peace. So.

Right! Thank you again Emilu! I’m tagging @herenya-writes @cognaclegion and @koikoipond should you wish to! Anyone else as well!

#tag game

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phoenixrisesoncemore · 4 years

Text

Index Post (updated 11.12.20)

So, I feel like some housekeeping is in order. Hence: an Index Post!

I have this organized into three main categories: Tolkien, The Untamed, and Other (film, art, books, games, life, etc.). Items are ordered from oldest to newest. The number of asterisks indicates length. “[reblog+]” indicates that the original post is not my own, but I added thoughts with a reblog (because I’m bad with Tumblr etiquette). Ultra short pieces are grouped near the bottom of each section.

Post links below the cut.

Additionally! I also have almost 100 in-progress posts in my drafts. I need to finish some, but I think at this point I need some guidance on where to go next, once I finish project 1 and write 3 more prompt ficlets. This is where you come in! I’d like to open my ask box up to reader suggestions on what to work on next. Go to THIS POST for a list of upcoming posts to choose from.

Tolkien Meta

"The Magic Ring” (On my favorite piece at Maker of Middle-earth) *

Reckoning Nothing of Wizardry or War (On my favorite line in LotR) *

Tolkien and the Far Tree (thoughts on Letter #96) *

Whom Morgoth Made (on the first mention of Sauron in the Primary World) *

When the Far Tree Becomes Near [reblog+] *

How to Destroy Your Enemies and Influence People (more Sauron, this time regarding Numenor) **

The Inverted Mountain (On the moment Frodo claims the Ring. Sauron-centric) *

IANAL but... (on Parma Eldalamberon 17) *

Fixation and Attachment Can Lead to Missing Fingers *

J.R.R.T.: A Film Portrait of J.R.R. Tolkien *

Sauron’s Canonically Pretty Handwriting [reblog+] *

The Little House of Lost Play **

The Changing Depictions of Sauron in Tolkien Art *

The Whole Damn Thing Is Fallen (The Problem of Evil; also Tolkien) **

The Whole Damn Thing Is Fallen: part 2 (same as above plus cosmology) ***

Ordering Reality (How Sauron and Tolkien were both Conlangers) *

Subcreative Aspects As Split Between the Ainur [reblog+] *

Valie Evolution, Varda and Nienna, and Marian Imagery [reblog+] ***

The Ring of Barahir and Snake Imagery [reblog+] *

Gandalf, Perspective, Humor, and Humility [reblog+] ***

LotR on Prime Tidbits: 1 | 2

25 Year Reread: 1 | 2 | 3

The Untamed (Chen Qing Ling/Mo Dao Zu Shi) Meta

But Whose Deontology? (early thoughts about moral tension between wangxian while first watching The Untamed) ***

Episode 45: Image and the Second Flutist *

Jiang Cheng, Golden Cores, and Goodness [reblog+] **

LWJ and WWX in Love [reblog+] **

Feels, Feels, Feels (thoughts on LWJ, WWX, and The Song) **

WWX, Drinking, and Consent [reblog+] **

Sharing Your Childhood (personal recollections on why WWX showing LWJ around Lotus Pier spears me through the heart) *

It’s a Hard World for Good Things (thoughts on goodness, metaphysics, and epistemology in the world of CQL/MDZS) ***

More About WWX and Image [reblog+] *

Immortal Together? *

CQL and Flowers [reblog+] **

Replacement Scenes [reblog+] *

Oblivious (personal reflections on one of the reasons I identify so much with Wei Wuxian) *

Lotus Seed Pod Bouquet *

How LWJ Got His Broken Leg *

MDZS/CQL RPG Thoughts ***

WWX and Wen Yuan: Orphans in Yiling *

What if Mo Xuanyu knew Wangxian?**

Untamed Tidbits: Episode 46: WWX and JC | Is Benevolence Arrogance | LSZ is a Good Boi | Censorship and Fan Ethics | Emperor’s Smile [reblog+] | MDZS ch99 | Yi City | CQL vs MDZS actors | On the Most Impractical Way of Carrying Your Sword | In Love [reblog+] | LQR Qi-deviates | Villainous Friends | Ethical/Sexual Tension | Lan Clan Principles Swap [reblog+] | Backwards and in Heels | Masks | Voice Actors [reblog+] | An Untamed Carol {reblog+] | CSSR, LQR, Mothers and sons [reblog+] | That Bed Carving [reblog+] | The Undead Are a Fact of Life | LWJ’s Self-branding [reblog+] | Wangxian Lullaby

Untamed/MDZS Art and Fic

50 Kisses Prompt 1 (ficlet)

50 Kisses Prompt 2 (ficlet/portion of larger unfinished 1929 Untamed AU)

50 Kisses Prompt 3 (ficlet)

1929 Untamed AU art: Drawing | WIP color

Drawtober 2020: single post compilation | all posts

Wangxian Lotus picking art: WIP Sketch for painting

Other Stuff About Life and Loves

The Poet of Prague (a short summary of the life and work of my favorite photographer, Joseph Sudek) *

The Five Toys I Never Had (Christmas silliness and nostalgia) **

The New Motive Power (the strangest moment in Spiritualism) **

Wrighting, Writing, and Righting *

In Her Honor (on how my grandmother gave me a precious gift) **

The Magnus Archives ep 116: Automata *

Automata Again *

On Indescribable Wow (thoughts on the moments when the world-machine is exposed) *

The Feast of the Annunciation at 35,000ft (musings on panic disorder, x-men/Phoenix, Tolkien: Maker of Middle-earth, and the power of stories) ****

Gazing Past The Valacirca: Happy Birthday Hubble **

Tidbits: Portrait of Adele [reblog+] | Things My Husband Has Said to Me: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | Met Opera Grumpiness | It’s a Hard World for Little Things | Grosseteste’s De Luce |

#index post #pinned #housekeeping

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sushiandstarlight · 3 years

Text

“Ornaments”: NaNoWrimo 30 Days of Prompts

Today’s Prompt

Read this story on AO3

Rated: G

Summary: Crowley wondered, honestly, if the ornaments were rigged to explode once they were all gathered together.

The first package showed up on Crowley's doorstep, no knock or request for a signature, less than a week from Christmas. He had nearly tripped over it on his way out to tempt Aziraphale for breakfast. It was a plain brown package, carefully tied with twine. No return address. Actually, he noted, no marking on it at all. He couldn't be sure it was even for him except that it was very deliberately placed where he would find it... With his wayward feet. He took it back inside and opened it. Inside, tucked securely into a nest of white tissue paper, was a single ornament: white enamel and gilded metal forming a human holding a drum with the number 12 floating over his head. Digging all the paper of the box did nothing to resolve the mystery. Shrugging he put the delicate bauble back in the box and left for breakfast.

One ornament showing up at his door unannounced he could explain, but when he left the next day to cause some mischief somewhere (he would decide along the way where that mischief would take place, being a free agent now) he was stopped short by a box exactly the same as the first. He glanced over his shoulder to make sure the first package was, in fact, still on his table. Then he reached down and plucked up the new one, taking it inside. Still, no addresses and no names. No labels to indicate the craftsperson or store that had made them. This one was blue and white, decked out with a cheerful flutist and holly leaves. Above the flutist was the number 11. Apparently, whoever this was, they were counting down. He slipped it gently back into the box and then went about his day, but he thought about it quite a lot.

The third day he poked his head out into the hall early, still in his pajamas and bare feet. He thought perhaps he would catch the deliverer in the act, but no. There was a third package, placed exactly where the other two had been. He plucked it up and brought it inside. This one was red and there was a man on it... To Crowley he looked sprawled out like he'd just had a bad fall. Surely that wasn't it, though. Above the sprawled man was the gilded number 10. The ball, this time, was a shiny red.

He never mentioned the mysterious ornaments to Aziraphale, though he wasn't quite sure why. Maybe it was that he was concerned for his own safety and, by extension, the angel's. He had no idea what these ornaments meant or what they might be counting down to. It could be a cruel joke from his previous bosses with the last one exploding in his face or something. They hadn't been bothered in months, but one never could be too careful. No, he wouldn't worry Aziraphale until he understood what was going on. Until then, all would be normal.

On it did go, though, perplexingly. The fourth day saw a red ball with a dancing lady on it, the number nine gleaming over her curls. The fifth one was green with a cow on it. The sixth, blue with a swan. The boxes were adding up on his desk. In lieu of stacking them and possibly breaking the delicate little things he got a larger box to keep them all in.

The seventh day was a red ball with a nesting goose, laying on her golden eggs. He found himself getting jumpy thinking there was someone outside his home, everyday, so close to him and yet unknown. He wondered if he should throw them away, but something inside him hoarded them like the mystery was a treasure itself.

Day eight was a deep, forest green covered in golden rings that overlapped and were tied together with a red ribbon. His skin was starting to itch with anxiety with only four more days to go until the finale of this... whatever it was. He was sure Aziraphale noticed him being so quiet. It was just that he couldn't stop thinking about what would be in the little brown box tomorrow. And what would happen when the countdown reached it's end?

The night before day nine he purchased a tiny security camera and installed it outside his down, linking it his phone. He tried to stay up and keep watch on the feed, but they'd had a very pleasant evening out, him and the angel, with plenty of libation. He was out not twenty minutes after he sat down. In the morning the feed was clean, but for a tiny disruption at first light. And there, after said disruption, sat a package at his door. More birds, this time, and music notes. Either someone was clever with technology or they were occult.

Day ten found chickens in a sea of green. Day eleven, doves on blue. Crowley didn't sleep the night before day twelve. When the sun rose, he was keyed up to the point of shaking. He went to the door, threw it open. Another package, another bird. He held it delicately in his hands, more than half afraid it would explode. When it didn't he placed it in the larger box with the rest.

Okay, countdown successful, but countdown to what?

His phone ringing shattered his tattered nervous so badly he was left clinging to the ceiling, eyes wide and yellow to the rims.

Only one person ever called him on his landline.

Slithering down from the ceiling, he answered.

“'ello, Angel.”

“Crowley! You will be by today, won't you? I thought... Well, I thought we would spend Christmas eve together.”

“Sure, sure. I'll be by in a bit.”

“Oh,” Aziraphale's voice was wrapped up in a smile like a bow, “Oh, good. Do bring the ornaments I sent you, would you?”

“The...” Crowley looked over at the box on his desk, all twelve baubles gleaming in the morning sun, his brain coming to a complete and utter halt, “ornaments?”

“You did get them? I mean, you never mentioned it. I hope they went to the right address!” He could hear the sound of rustling papers and then, “Yes, it's here correctly on the receipt.”

“You sent me ornaments?” He felt like he was dragging his brain through sludge to get it to the point, but after all the anxiety this made no sense. He saw Aziraphale every day, or damn near. Why hadn't he just given him them in person?

“Yes, there should have been twelve.”

“I got them.”

“Oh good, so you'll bring them with you?”

“Yeah, uh, yeah sure I will. No problem.”

“Alright, see you in a bit, then.”

“Yup.”

And the receiver went dead. Aziraphale had sent him Christmas ornaments. And they counted down until today. But, he must know... Crowley never put up a tree?

He stared at the box for another minute more, puzzling, but then shrugged and headed for his shower.

He snapped open the door and shouldered his way into the bookshop, box of ornaments taking up most of his dexterity.

“Angel!” he called out, but saw no sign of him. He walked into the center of the book shop and found... A twinkle light lit evergreen tree that had to be at least 8 feet tall. It had decidedly not been there yesterday. All around it were boxes of trinkets and garland and even hand-threaded popcorn-and-cranberry strands.

“Ah, hullo, Crowley!” Aziraphale was descending the stairs, a box in his hands. Crowley sat his down by the others and rushed over to help, “oh, thank you, dear.” Aziraphale clapped his hands together to remove the dust.

“Where did all of this come from?” Crowley took the last box over- glittery balls in gold and silver, all different sizes- and put it with the rest. The tree was well and truly boxed in at this point.

“Oh, I bought most of them. Lots of thrifting. Love the human idea of thrifting, don't you? One person's discard is another person's treasure!” Aziraphale was fluttering around the boxes, but didn't seem to be actually doing anything with them, “I made some of it. I think I ate more popcorn than made it on the strands, I must confess.”

Crowley stood in the midst of the Christmas festivities and felt utterly lost.

“Ah, here are the ones I sent you! Oh, but they're even more lovely in person!”

Crowley watched him, as if he was going mad.

“Do you like them?” Aziraphale looked up at him and frowned, “You don't?”

“I mean, they're nice,” Crowley rubbed the back of his neck and joined him at the side of the box, looking down at all twelve ornaments, “it might've been nice to, ah, leave a note with them.”

“Now that can't be right...” and the angel was off, back to his cluttered office desk (not to be confused with his book restoration desk which was pristine and clutter free). He pulled out a receipt and produced his tiny spectacles from out of nowhere, “says right here that there was to be a note with every package. I gave them twelve notes with the twelve different lyrics.”

“Lyrics?”

“Yes, Crowley. From the song.”

“But it wasn't a song...” Crowley could feel his voice dipping into a whine due to his strained misunderstanding of this entire escapade, “it was ornaments.”

“The Twelve Days of Christmas. Surely, you've heard it.”

“Maybe? I tend to kind of sleep through Christmas, if I can manage it.”

“Then you don't...” Aziraphale dropped the receipt back on his desk, “you can't have...” He sat down at his desk with a thump, “oh dear.”

“I do like them, Angel, of course I do. They're from you, right? Little strange sending them to me and then having me bring them to put them on your tree, but you know I'm down for whatever you want to do,” He had been moving while he spoke, picking his way around the boxes over to where Aziraphale sat, staring off into space, “Alright, Angel?”

“But they had meaning, my dear. And that's been totally lost. Here I thought... I thought I was saying it and I wasn't.”

“You could tell me now.”

Aziraphale smiled up at him, but it was with an edge.

“You can, I want to know what they mean. It's been driving me around the bend for twelve days!” he pulled an ottoman up across from Aziraphale's chair and sat, waiting.

“I just- it was easier to let gestures speak to me.”

“You don't need to be nervous, it's only me.”

“There's nothing 'only' about you, Crowley.”

Crowley cocked his head to the side, deciding not to respond to that, and kept waiting.

“Have you heard 'The Twelve Days of Christmas?'”

“Er, probably, but I... oh,” Crowley paused and let that sink in, “so there was one ornament for each day. I get that.”

“Yes, but the song. Well, it's supposed to start on Christmas day, really. But, for my purposes it worked better to count down to Christmas eve.”

“Your purposes.”

“The song is about a lover sending gifts.” Aziraphale said it quickly and to his hands, rather than Crowley's face.

Crowley continued to stare at him as the Angel started to sing, low and soft: “On the first day of Christmas my true love sent to me A partridge in a pear tree.

On the second day of Christmas my true love sent to me Two turtle doves, And a partridge in a pear tree.

On the third day of Christmas my true love sent to me Three French hens, Two turtle doves, And a partridge in a pear tree.”

Firstly, Crowley shivered as Aziraphale's voice drifted over him. How had he never heard him sing before? Even such simple verses sounded, well, heavenly. Secondly, true what now?

“True what now?”

“True,” Aziraphale coughed, “Well, true love.”

“For me?”

“If you'd like,” Aziraphale was shifting uncomfortably in his seat, “I had one more ornament for when we were done decorating the tree.”

“Can I see it now?” Crowley felt his heart should be racing, anxiety cluttering his brain, but he felt a sudden wave of calm. Aziraphale thought of him as a true love? All these years... All these centuries. It hadn't just been him alone with his feelings? “Or would you rather we decorated first? That was the plan.”

“I can show you now,” he got up and went over to his register, producing a small white box with a red ribbon. He sat down across from Crowley again and handed it to him.

Crowley gently pulled the ribbon off and opened the box. Inside was a porcelain ball, light blue and crackled in gold. When he lifted it, he saw the image on the front: a black and red serpent tucked under the wing of a dove. He stared at it for, well, he wasn't sure how long. Finally Aziraphale cleared his voice across from him.

“Do you like it?”

“It's beautiful.”

“I had it commissioned. Hand crafted and painted.”

“For me.”

“For you.”

“Your true love.”

“Yes.”

“You did all of this,” Crowley gestured to the boxes strewn about and the trees and the ornament he now sat at his feet, “to tell me you loved me?”

“Well, it all seems a bit daft now.”

“Maybe a little.”

Aziraphale looked wounded.

“But I love my daft Angel,” Crowley reached over and took one of his hands, squeezing it until he looked up, “Maybe next time you can be a tiny bit more direct. I can't guarantee I would've understood it, either way. We're a right pair of ineffable idiots.”

“Do you want some rum and cider? I want some rum and cider.”

“Heavy on the rum, light on the cider.”

“Deal,” Aziraphale bustled off upstairs to his kitchen, leaving Crowley to sit and stare at the tree. He wound his way back to it, carrying the new ornament, cradling it to his chest. A commemorative piece of art of their first meeting. When Aziraphale had protected him from the storm.

“You can put it on first, if you like. Give it prime of place.” Aziraphale had appeared, quietly at his left elbow.

“Yeah, right in the middle?”

“I like that.”

Crowley hung it and then took his mug from Aziraphale, taking a deep sip. Aziraphale edged closer to him.

“May I?” he gestured with his arm.

“'course, Angel.” He felt Aziraphale's arm wrap around his middle and they stared at the tree for a while. He didn't know if it was the proximity or the alcohol, but he was feeling warm and syrupy, kinda like his bones were melting, in a pleasant way.

They spent the next few hours decking out the tree and downing mug after mug of what was slanted increasingly away from cider and toward rum. By the time the last bit of garland went on, they were covered in tinsel and laughing over nothing. Slumping onto the sofa next to the tree, Crowley curled into Aziraphale's side.

“Going to dream of sugar plums?”

“Nah.”

“What do you want Santa to bring you in the morning?”

“Santa only comes for good boys. M'not a good boy.”

“Hmm, maybe not.”

“I've got what I want right here, don't need Santa for anything,” he drifted off, already dreaming about being curled up safe and dry under white feathers.

Previous Prompt Ficlets:

Cocoa or Cider / Feather Duster / Scarf / Family / Hearth / Frosty / Ribbons / Wrapping / Cardinal / Coal / Unwrap / Blustery

#aziraphale x crowley #crowley x aziraphale #good omens #good omens fic #ineffable husbands #ineffable idiots #christmas fluff #star light-reads #30 days of prompts #nanowrimo #nanowrimo 2020

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gwenpendragns · 3 years

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tagged by: @ahsokatonas and @freakingbradleys

rules: answer 30 questions and tag 20 people. i’m going to tag @moirei @suethor @chlobenet and @anotherunreadblog

1.) name/nickname: emily

2.) gender: female

3.) star sign: scorpio

4.) height: 5′2" and three quarters

5.) time: 9:54pm

6.) birthday: november 16

7.) favorite bands: one direction, little mix, 5sos, mumford and sons, fleetwood mac, florence and the machine

8.) favorite solo artists: hozier, lewis capaldi, harry styles, niall horan, taylor swift, halsey, billie eilish

9.) song stuck in my head: love you goodbye by one direction

10.) last movie: pretty sure it was the prisoner of azkaban

11.) last show: schitt's creek

12.) when did i create this blog: 2017 but i had a blog before for random shit

13.) what do i post: mostly oc content but also a whole lot of whatever the hell im fixated on currently

14.) last thing googled: obiani lightsaber spin tutorial (don’t fucking judge me)

15.) other blogs: I have like three old blogs that i lost the password for and forgot the URL for but i do have a sideblog for the 100 called ravenzreyez but I’m not active on it really

16.) do i get asks: my asks are always open!!

17.) why i chose my url: I changed it to this right after I watched the half of it for the first time - no regrets bc paul is forever the #1 white boy

18.) following: 325

19.) followers: 298

20.) average hours of sleep: so i actually have chronic insomnia so around 3 hours a night but if I’m lucky i take a couple small naps during the day (like an hour long)

21.) lucky number: 16 bc I was born on the 16th

22.) instruments: i took piano as a kid but don’t play anymore - in the fifth grade i was in band so that I could skip class and “played” the flute. turns out the flute is actually really hard to play so i faked it half the time and one time we went and performed for an old folks home and i faked it and the other flutist actually played really well and when the concert was over the instructor came up to me and said “you really carried us on that flute section, good job emily” and i took the credit for it when it was really that other girl so

23.) what am i wearing: jogging pants and my old graduation baseball t from high school that has purple dye stains all over it also a towel on my head

24.) dream job: an advocate

25.) dream trip: either amsterdam or I have a weird obsession with new orleans

26.) favorite food: its hard to pick one but probably the classic, poutine or perogies

27.) nationality: canadian

28.) favorite song: currently coney island by taylor swift but my all time favourite song is work song by hozier

29.) last book read: i read a new novel length fanfic every day but physical books i reread goblet of fire

30.) top three fictional universes i’d like to live in: marvel 100%, hp but like my personal headcanon version of it, and then idk star wars maybe? narnia is also pretty dope though

#type: tag games #about me #im a mess and that really translated in my answers #Je mexcuse

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bulletproof-korean · 4 years

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Run BTS ep. 99 Florist [vocab]

Run episodes are so chaotic that I only tackled the first few minutes of this ep. I am also chaotic because I skipped some episodes and now I don’t know which ones I haven’t watched 🙃

➼ 달리다 - to run ➽ 아/어라 is an informal imperative but it’s mostly used by older people towards younger people. A less strong imperative would be just 아/어 - 반말 with an imperative intonation of voice. 달려! and 달려라! have the same meaning “run!” but are used differently.

식물도 많고 꽃도 많은 이 곳은 꽃집! ➼ 식물 - plant, flora ➼ 꽃 - flower ➼ 꽃집 - a flower shop, florist This place is a flower shop with many plants and flowers!

HS: [걱정] 꽃이랑 우리랑 구분이 안 갈까 봐~ ➼ 걱정 - worry ➼ 구분 - separation, division ➽ ~ㄹ/을까 봐 [Worried] What if they can’t tell us apart from the flowers~

YG: 너무 구분 잘 되는데요?ㅋㅋㅋ ➽ ~ㄴ/은/는데 I can tell us apart really well..? hehehe

➼ 주제 - topic ➼ 플로리스트 - florist Jin mistook it for 플루티스트 - flutist

When asked if they ever tried arranging flowers Jin said 저는 제가 꽃이라.. (I’m a flower so...) To which JK said 진 형 어디다 꽂아주면 안 됩니까? (Can we stick Jin into some water?)

혹여나 시들까 화병에 꽂아주고 싶은 동생들의 마음 ➼ 혹여나 - by any chance, just in case ➼ 시들다 - to wither ➼ 화병/꽃병 - vase (both literally mean “flower bottle”) ➼ 꽂다 - to stick into In case he withers the younger ones want to put him into a vase.

The members are becoming florists for today! We’ll start with talk about their birth flowers and they will try to make various decorations. ➼ 장식품 - decoration, ornament ➼ 만들다 - to make ➼ 시간을 가지다 - to take the time, lit. to possess time

탄생화 = birth flower

꽃말 = meaning of a flower, lit. “flower language”

How to tell the date in Korean: ****year 년, **month 월, **day 일 1994년 9월 12일 using sino-korean numbers. 천구백구십사년 구월 십이일. ⇨ 2 exceptions: 6월 = 유월 육월, 10월 = 시월 십월

🌼 NJ 9월12일 클레마티스, Clematis ⇨ 꽃말: 마음의 아름다움 = inner beauty, beauty of one’s heart

➼ 고결 - noble character

🌼 SJ 12월4일 수영, Rumex ⇨ 꽃말: 애정 = affection, love ➼ 수영 - swimming

➼ 해몽 - dream interpreting ➼ 어깨 - shoulders ➼ 수영하다 - to swim A better dream interpretation than the actual dream: A person who has shoulders as wide as a swimmer.

➼ 관심을 받다 - to get attention ➼ 빨개지다 - to redden, become red ➼ 귀 - ears YG: 목 빨개진 걸 봐봐! = Look how his neck has turned red.

🌼 YG 3월9일 낙엽송, Larch ⇨ 꽃말: 대담 = bravery, boldness ➼ 송 - konglish for “song” ➼ 낙엽 - falling leaves ➼ 고엽 - dead leaves ➼ 소름 돋다 - to get goosebumps ➼ 평행이론 - parallelism

🌼 HS 2월18일 미나리아재비, Buttercup ⇨ 꽃말: 천진난만 = innocent soul ➼ 야생초 - wildflower ➼ 산속 - deep mountains ➼ 들 - field

🌼 JM 10월13일 조팝꽃, Bridal wreath spirea ⇨ 꽃말: 단정한 사랑 = neat love Everyone misheard it as 좃 which is how you adress male genitalia JM: 방송 이상하게 나간다고! = It’s going to look weird in the broadcast!

🌼 TH 12월30일 납매, Wintersweet / Japanese allspice ⇨ 꽃말: 자애 [慈愛] = affection Jin misheard it as 자해 which means self-harming

➼ 현실을 직시하다 - to face up to the reality ➼ 낭만주의자 - a (hopeless) romantic ➼ 숙명 - fate

🌼 JK 9월1일 호랑이꽃, Tiger flower ⇨ 꽃말: 나를 사랑해주세요 = Please, love me 겉은 화려한데 속은 살짝... = The outside is fancy but the inside is kinda... ➼ 겉 - the outside ➼ 화려하다 - to be fancy, flashy ➼ 속 - the inside

#korean vocab #run bts #korean langblr #learn korean #vlive #bulletproof korean #내 꺼 #bts #birth flower #bts vocab #the editors put in so much effort for the first two flowers and then they gave up ahaha #run bts never fails to make me laugh 💗

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swissaus-rabbithole · 4 years

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Highschool AU SwissAus:

Vash Zwingli nearly sighed with relief as class was released for lunch by the blaring bell over the loudspeakers. He typically wasn’t one to show up for class, but today was mandatory. You can’t skip a test after all. He stood from his desk, quickly packing his bag as the teacher tried to settle their class down when all of the students started making a mad dash for the door. Vash slipped out with a large pack of students as he adjusted the beanie on his head.

The halls were loud and crowded, full of hungry and eager students that were just dying to eat lunch and go home. The Swiss student felt the same way as he moved along the side of the hallway to avoid being bounced around by the crowd. Music blared from the quad as the teachers tried to get students' morale up. He scowled as the music grew louder, thankful that he wasn’t pushed with the crowds towards it, and rather was able to detach himself from the swarm and move to a less populated area.

The blond made his way away from the music to the quieter part of campus. When scanning for a place to spend his time, his eyes landed on the band and choir building. It was a small building with double doors and a railing. It was right across from the locker rooms and there were a few people sitting around outside, but not many.

Deciding that that was where he wanted to go, Vash opened the heavy door to the rather small building with his shoulder, shifting his backpack to one side as he did so. He entered the carpeted room, his feet moving quietly over the cerulean flooring. Slinging his backpack onto the ground in the middle of the room, he made his way to the lockers. When he found his number, he reached up to it and opened the door.

Inside of the locker sat his trumpet case, just where he left it after marching band that morning. As he took it down and started assembling it, something about the school ambiance changed. It took him a moment to realize that what he was hearing wasn’t a symptom of sleep deprivation, but it was piano. He turned to the noise, his trumpet crossed across his chest. It was coming from one of the practice rooms. He listened for a moment before putting his flute to his lips and joining. It was Cinema Paradiso, a tune he recognized and held very dear.

Inside of the practice room, Roderich Edelstein sat at the rickety old school piano. It wasn’t as nice as the one in the theater, but it did the job. At first he thought he was imagining the accompaniment but when he opened his eyes, it was still there. He smiled to himself as he continued along the beautiful melody. When the piece finally concluded, he moved onto a different piece, and was absolutely delighted to find that the flutist joined in on that one as well. They played for what felt like an eternity until the bell rang.

The Austrian quickly packed his sheet music away into his bookbag and when he opened the door to compliment his companion, he found nobody there. He exited the room and turned the corner just in time to see the door close heavily behind the mystery player. He lurched forwards and pulled the door open but it was too late. The halls were crowded once more and whoever played the duet was nowhere to be found.

#drabblefromtherabbithole #hetalia #Hetalia Switzerland #hetalia austria #APH Austria #aph switzerland #edelweiss #AusSwiss #swisstria #swissaus #they gay keep scrolling #highschool au #this is kinda bad #i havent written something like this in a bit lol

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