#March 18

[shisasan]

March 18, 1925 Journals of Anais Nin 1923-1927 [volume 3]

[tswiftupdatess]

Taylor's message for 'THE TORTURED POETS DEPARTMENT' on Apple Music!

[newyorkthegoldenage]

When the sales clerks at Woolworth's—all of them women—went on strike in March, 1937, some men (union members?) turned out to support them. They picketed near the home of Barbara Hutton, the Woolworth heiress, on March 18, 1937.

Photo: Associated Press

[dailykafka]

— March 18, 1912 / Franz Kafka diaries

[nando161mando]

Support the antifascists imprisoned in Hungary!

Freedom for the anti-fascists from Germany and Italy Ilaria, Maja, Tobi and Gabriele!

Day of action on 18 March 2024

@antifainternational @anarchistmemecollective @radicalgraff @kropotkindersurprise @left-reminders

[happybirthday-unusannus]

Happy 4th Birthday to

“Unus Annus Carves the Roast Beast”

[mrepstein]

Brian Epstein with David Hill, editor of Weekend magazine, March 18, 1964.

[floridaboiler]

[musickickztoo]

Chuck Berry † March 18, 2017

[lulublack90]

Prompt 18 - Instrument

@jegulus-microfic March 18 Word count 740

Previous part First part

They wandered through the deserted corridors of Hogwarts Castle, after Sirius and Remus, up to the seventh floor. They stopped beside the tapestry of Barnabas the Barmy and his disastrous attempt to teach trolls ballet. 

“Right, everyone stand still and try not to think anything too hard,” Sirius ordered as he started to pace back and forward, muttering under his breath with his eyes screwed shut. 

Regulus opened his mouth to ask Sirius what he was playing at when a door began to materialise in the previously blank stretch of wall. 

Sirius stopped moving and grinned at the others. “May I introduce you to the Room of Requirement!” He gestured proudly at the door behind him. He flung the door open, and they filed in. 

The room beyond was enormous. Piles of broken furniture towered to the ceiling in precarious piles, and mountains of other lost treasures and broken objects littered the room.”

“It’s like a dragon’s nest,” Lily said, awed by the amount of stuff in the room. “A dragon that hoards rubbish instead of treasure.”

“Pretty shit, dragon.” Barty cackled as he peered into one of the closest piles and drove his hand into the middle of it. 

“Barty, you’re gonna knock it over!” Evan cried as he uselessly fluttered his hands in the air, not wanting to touch Barty in case he caused the pile to topple. Barty pulled his hand back, bringing with it a strange horn-like instrument.

“I always wanted a Dissimulator, but father wouldn’t let me get one.” He blew on the end, and a loud, obnoxious blaring sound emitted from the end of the horn along with puffs of green and gold-coloured smoke. 

Regulus stormed over and took it from Barty’s hands.

“No,” He said angrily. He went to throw it as far as he could into the room, but James grabbed it from his hand before he could. 

“Don’t be mean, Reg,” Regulus turned and glared at James. 

“If we don’t stop him now, he will play that thing until the day he dies just to annoy us.”

“He’s not wrong.” Barty snickered, not expecting to get his new toy back. Regulus grumbled. 

“You can have it back once we have the diadem and are safely back at Rosier House.” When he didn’t get any objections, he continued. “Right, do we all know what the diadem looks like?” Everyone nodded their heads, full attention on Regulus. “Okay, It’s somewhere in this room, so let’s find it.” 

They split up, searching their sections for the adornment. 

“Regulus!” Remus called across the room. They all immediately rushed over to where Remus had stopped. There, on top of an old cupboard worn by the bust of an unknown warlock in a dusty wig, sat the diadem. 

Regulus, Remus and Lily took over, forcing the others away so they could check for curses. Lily cast a few more charms that Regulus and Remus hadn’t thought of and decided together that it was probably safe to pick up. 

“I mean, it hasn’t been hidden very well, and it’s not been placed carefully. I feel like he might have been in a rush to get rid of it.” Lily thought aloud as Regulus reached to take the diadem from the bust.

“Helena could probably sense it and was trying to find him,” Pandora added, looking sadly at the beautiful tiara. 

“Bit sloppy, though,” Evan said as he squinted around the room. “Plenty of better hiding places to hide it in here, that,” He pointed at the bust. “Is a shit place to leave it.”

“I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it again—“ Barty started saying. 

“I swear if you say arrogant bastard one more time, I’m going to curse your dick off!” Regulus said over his shoulder at his friend. Barty moved his hands to cover himself and closed his mouth before quietly going to stand behind Evan. 

“Oi, don’t use me as a shield!” Evan complained.

Regulus turned the diadem over in his hands. It was definitely Ravenclaws. Engraved on it was Ravenclaw’s motto, ‘Wit beyond measure is man’s greatest treasure.’ He pocketed it. 

“Let’s get out of here before we’re caught.” 

They cast their disillusionment charms before they left the room of requirement apart from James, who threw his cloak over himself again, and they left the room exactly as they found it less one diadem and to everyone’s, apart from Barty’s, disdain a Dissimulator.    

Next part

[nicolacoughlanbigheartfanpage]

LILY-ROSE DEPP

Lily with her friends at the Beach by her friend Lilah

[shisasan]

March 18, 1925 Journals of Anais Nin 1923-1927 [volume 3]

[macrolit]

Each day, we wake slightly altered, and the person we were yesterday is dead. So why, one could say, be afraid of death when death comes all the time?

John Updike (b. 18 March 1932)

[newyorkthegoldenage]

When Columbia University gave Winston Churchill an honorary Doctor of Laws degree on March 18, 1946, some students protested. School books belonging to the picketers lie on the sidewalk. Police routed the demonstrators from the gate about five minutes before Churchill entered the campus.

Photo: John Lindsay for the AP

[dailykafka]

— March 18, 1922 / Franz Kafka diaries

[lttledog]

March 18th, from the Diaries of Franz Kafka.