#but im meeeaann

[the-real-dev]

LMK WIKI WHAT DOES THIS MEEEAANN IM SHITTING BRICKS HEELLLO 😨😨😨

[itsmadamerosmerta-blog]

Beauty in the Familiar || Open Starter

Rosmerta loved what she did. Perhaps it lacked the grandeur of a cushy Ministry position, or the excitement of a life out in the world hunting vampires or breaking curses, but what Ros’ life lacked in spontaneity, it more than made up for in colour. The Three Broomsticks, like most pubs in the British Isles, served as the melting pot for all walks of life. Her warm gaze surveyed the quiet bar, at the way silver-spooned blue bloods rubbed elbows with her brow-beaten regulars- The ones that life had battered and left to flounder. It was their faces that her eyes clung to, smiling up at her over their third or fourth pints of the evening.

Dropping the steaming bowl of stew in front of the Vance child with a soft pat on to her red curls, Rosmerta winked at Broderick Bode as he watched her from his seat in the corner where he was conversing idly with Augustus Rookwood. She felt her grin hook upwards some degrees as she weaved her way back to the bar, making sure to swing her hips as she felt his gaze follow her. Dropping the tray on the side, the redhead ducked under the wooden flap in one fluid movement. Rosmerta had many years to overcome any insecurities that might have plagued younger women, but she was never as confident as when she was working a room full of her patrons.

Back at the bar a pretty Norwegian witch was making great strides in trying to seduce Walden MacNair, fingers dancing up and down his arm as smoothly as her accent danced across the foreign tongue. Further along, Ros briefly watched Lawrence Woodridge, sipping idly at his pint, face contentedly shoved into a heavy tome on Hungarian wand-making. It was a pretty serene tableau, even for a Tuesday night. Not that Rosmerta minded much. The Broomsticks was an institution, one that far outlived her own title as the pub’s matron. Even in these unsettled times, rather than act as a deterrent, the unrest seemed to be pushing people towards her doorstep as they sought out a moment of joy in the bottom of a glass. It was a service Madame Rosmerta was more than happy to provide. A quiet night, every once in a while, was a blessing of sorts.

Grabbing a cigarette from the pocket of Edgar’s heavy jacket, the woman shot the man a nod of acknowledgement as she tossed on her own cloak- fag break- and headed for the exit. She often worried that she took him for granted, her stony-faced champion, but Edgar tended to appear even when she gave him the night off so Ros supposed she might as well pay him for hanging about. The incident with the boggart had gone unmentioned, but even without the creature, he must have known how much he meant to her.

Stepping out, Ros felt the bite of the autumn air settling into her bones and she pulled the flowing garment around tightly around her frame. Lighting up the cigarette with the tip of her wand, Rosy took a long drag, letting the smoke sit in her chest and warm her from the inside. Turning, she spied a familiar figure ambling up the highstreet towards her. The woman smiled.

“Evening stranger,” she called, “coming to join me for a butterbeer on this cold autumn night?”

[snek-snacc]

Okay maybe this is a bit much BUT, we have brinky, we have Julia x Billie, have we considered Future Brain x Snowball 👀.

[supermarketcrush]

im the sweetest girl in town so why are you so meeEaann when you gonna ditch that stupid [muted] you got it's me you should be seeeennnnnnn hell-o oh oh you are lookin soo fine sooo fine fantasy aboutchu's like a gold minnee gold minnee askin everybody is he mine is he mineee naht quite yet bu' im gonna g-get 'im naht quite yet bu' im gonna g-get imm