#olivia broome

[keepingitneutral]

"Brutalist Plants"

Reinforced hillside, Aogashima, Tokyo, Japan. Photo © Yasushi Okano,

Bucharest, Romania. Photo © Bogdan Anghel,

Casa Alférez, Cañada De Alferes, Mexico. Architect Ludwig Godefroy. Photo © Rory Gardiner,

Monumento a Azeredo Perdigão by Pedro Cabrita Reis,

Casa de Vidro, São Paulo, Brazil. Architect Lina Bo Bardi. Photo © Celeste Asfour,

Artwork and photo by Karsten Födinger in La Vallée, Basse-Normandie, France,

Jurong Bird Park, Jurong, Singapore. Architect John Yealland and J. Toovey. Photo © James Wong

Courtesy: Olivia Broome (Hoxton Mini Press)

[sheltiechicago]

Contrasting Forms

A quick google image search for “brutalist buildings” will bring up some impressive feats of architecture – from the Geisel Library in San Diego to the National Theatre in London. We see monolithic concrete structures that block out the sky. From this, however, it’s easy to see why this style is often viewed as austere and cold. We’re used to seeing photographs where they are imposing structures that dominate the frame. There are no people and only occasionally a tree branch swoops into the shot. However, these scenes do not reflect the ways in which these buildings are filled with life. Curator Olivia Broome shows us this verdant reality in her new photo book Brutalist Plants.

[alluraaaa]

thinking about allura growing up on a planet that excelled at diplomacy with other planets and her making friends with the young nobility/children of leaders on other planets. having pen pals across entire galaxies! and sometimes during the war she gets the urge to reach out to them and reconnect, only to remember it’s been ten thousand years. they’re all long dead

thinking about allura visiting those planets anyway, to see how the ecology has changed. only to meet the current leaders of the planet, who look so much like allura’s old friends, and welcome her happily into castles whose halls she used to explore and play games in centuries ago. everything’s changed yet it’s all still the same. she’s changed and yet she’s still the same

[sproutandroid]

I couldn’t resist to get this book. I love eco brutalism, the mix of concrete and plants 🌱

Brutalist Plants by Olivia Broome (Hoxton Mini Press)

[raven-dor]

wish you talked to me

in which james potter is oblivious about his feelings, and it takes lily evans to help him realize it

PAIRING: james potter x ravenclaw!reader

WARNINGS: given last name, given middle name, angst, banter, slight arguing, mentions of death eaters, REGULUS LEAVES GRIMMAULD PLACE, oblivious james, jealousy, fluff ending

WORD COUNT: 3.0k

🎶 : traitor - olivia rodrigo

The house was empty, her footsteps could be heard from across the property. Y/N’s parents had left her home alone for a “much needed vacation.” She knew what they were really doing.

They’d asked her before to join, she declined. They then grounded her, taking away her wand and blocking the Floo so that she was stuck in her prison. Her father had been friends with ‘Voldemort’ during their time at Hogwarts, and her mother did anything her father said. The perfect wife. 

Y/N vowed she would never be like her mother. Not that she blamed her; standing up to her father took a whole other level of courage neither of them possessed.

Since her parents' departure, she’d been writing letters to Regulus, planning his escape from 12 Grimmauld Place. He had also tired of Walburga’s antics, and she couldn’t blame him.

If she was being honest, it was surprising how long he stayed, but Y/N was proud regardless. At first, she'd offered her home as his new residence but quickly realized her parents would sell him out without thinking twice. Then she came to a revolution so simple that she was shocked she hadn’t thought of it first.

Why separate siblings?

Owling James Potter was something she never thought she would have to do. It’s not that they weren’t friends, quite the opposite, but they saved their talking for when they were back at Hogwarts. She got a howler back from James (and Sirius) immediately, expressing their eagerness to house him, and from Sirius, his gratitude for helping his little brother. 

The plan began August 25th, at Midnight. Regulus ensured his parents were asleep, jumping out of the window and onto his broom. He leviated his trunk behind him, and after meeting up with Y/N at her home, flew the rest of the way together to Potter Manor. Minutes into their flight, a massive storm hit them.

Y/N groaned, yelling over the thunder. “Merlin, this is dismal!” 

They practically dropped to the ground, sighing in relief. Regulus was fine, but Y/N, who was not a quidditch player by any means, was not used to flying for long periods of time.

When Regulus brought that up before their flight, she laughed. “I’d do anything for you, Reg, you know that.” 

They approached the red door (fitting, Y/N thought, for the most obnoxious Gryffindor she’d ever known.) She laughed. Poor Mrs.Potter, she must have found James and his father's bold nature tiring, especially being the only Slytherin in the house. They hadn’t even knocked before it cracked open, Euphemia standing on the other side, sporting a beautifully elegant smile. 

“Hello dears. Come in, the storm must have caught you.” 

Y/N nodded. “Hardly.” 

Fleamont stood behind his wife, smirking. “Hardly? You’re positively drenched.” He reached grabbing Regulus’s things. “Thank you for escorting Regulus, Ms.Baudelaire.”

“It’s not a problem, really. He’s my best friend. I’d-” 

A pair of strong arms wrapped around her waist, lifting her off the ground. “Y/N/N!!!” He squeezed my waist. “Godric, it’s good to see you.” He leaned down, whispering in her ear. “You’re looking great.” 

She blushed, playfully hitting at his chest before giving up and hugging him back. Sirius and Regulus looking at each other knowingly. The two sixth years had been dancing around their feelings for years, and practically everyone in school knew they were destined. 

“It’s nice to see you too, Jamie.” 

James released his hold, eyebrows furrowed at the fact that she was soaking wet. “Why are your clothes soaked through?” 

She laughed, rubbing the back of her neck awkwardly. “It’s a funny story, really.”  

Sirius interrupted. “Your clever little girlfriend-” 

She sighed, glaring at the boy. “I’m not his girlfriend.” 

“Whatever. Your not-girlfriend had the clever idea of flying all the way here in the rain.”

James looked back at the girl, who was now staring anywhere but him. “Is that true?” 

“I-” Y/N looked to Regulus for help, who simply shrugged. She glared, he was so unhelpful sometimes. “Yes?” 

James scoffed, crossing his arms. “That’s rather irresponsible of you, don’t you think?”

She raised her eyebrows, laughing. “Oh, that's hilarious. You’re such a hypocrite, James.” 

“Ask to use my floo next time instead of putting your life in danger.” 

“I have an honest question for you, Potter. Do you think before you talk? Merlin, I couldn’t use the floo! Can anyone tell me why?” She looked around the room. “Hm?” 

Regulus murmured. “Because the floo can be traced.” 

“Thank you, Regulus.” She looked back at James with a look of satisfaction. “Because it can be traced. I thought this through James, but the next time my best friend is running away, I’ll be sure to let you know my every move.” She scoffed, mumbling. “I didn’t realize you were my handler.”  

He sighed, reaching out. “I didn’t mean it like that.” 

She ducked out of his way and quickly addressed his parents. “Mr. and Mrs. Potter, thank you for taking Regulus into your home. I hope I can visit soon.” 

Euphemia nodded. “Anytime, my dear.” 

Fleamont looked outside. “If you would like, you could stay the night. The storm is getting rather out of hand.” 

Y/N shook my head. “My parents return tomorrow. I have to make it look like I’ve been in the house before they get back. Cleaning and such.” She smiled softly. “But thank you.” She turned to Regulus, winking. “Don’t get into any trouble while I’m gone.” 

He rolled his eyes, hugging her tightly. “How can I, you’re taking it all with you.” 

She laughed, her eyes watering. “Be safe Reggie.” 

“You too Y/N/N.” 

She nodded toward Sirius. “Black.” 

“Baudelaire. Thank you for taking care of my little brother. He needed a good influence in his life.” 

“I think you’ll do just fine.” He smirked, and she muttered. “For the most part.” Y/N turned to James last, sarcasm dripping from her voice. “Am I permitted to go?”  

She didn’t wait for a response, walking out of the front door and mounting her broom. The door whipped open, and James practically fell out. open, and James ran out. 

“What do you want, Potter?” Y/N fought the urge to roll her eyes.

“You know that’s not what I meant.” 

“Oh, really? Then what did you mean by it? Because it sounded like I need to run everything by you.” 

“You know that I worry about you. I-” He paused. “You know I care about you. Your safety is important to me.” 

She sighed, leaning towards him.

“Thanks, James, but I can take care of myself.” She flew higher, grinning. “See you at school!” 

It was odd, being friends with the man she’d had a crush on since second year. She had barely been able to admit it to herself, let alone Pandora and Regulus. They’d hung out much more than normal, getting lunch whenever they had free time. Alice Longbottom practically flew done the hall, grabbing Y/N by the shoulders. 

“Have you heard?” 

She laughed. “Heard what, Alice?” 

She squealed. “There’s going to be a ball!”  

Y/N laughed again. “You mean the ball that happens at the same time every year?”

“Yes, but there’s a twist.” She smiled. “Sixths years are invited!” 

“Rowena! Are you serious? When?” 

James laughed. “You just found this out? We’ve known about this since May when we snuck into Minnie’s office.” 

Y/N rolled my eyes, glaring playfully at the boy. “Well, not everyone can break the school rules whenever they please, James.”

Alice hummed in agreement, walking away while muttering something about how she had to tell Frank.

Y/N smiled longingly. “Those two are made for each other.” 

James looked down at her, his cheeks flushing. “Yeah, they are.” He cleared his throat. “Have any idea who’ll ask you?” 

“No idea. I think I’ll go alone. Stag, if you will.”

“Very funny.” He nudged her. “But that’s rubbish. Anyone would be lucky to have you. You’re gorgeous.” 

Y/N looked up at him, eyes wide. “Really?” 

He gulped. “Yeah. Of course.” 

Her jaw was weak as she stared at him. A student brushed past her, and she realized that they were in public, directly in front of the Great Hall. “We better get to lunch, or Sirius will eat our food.” 

James laughed. “Of course, right as always.” He held his arm out. “After you.” 

She giggled, throwing her head back. “Why thank you.” 

Weeks had gone by, and James still hadn’t asked her. The sixth years decided to meet in the library and study together for an upcoming potions exam, when the topic of the ball came up yet again. Y/N grew quiet, literally burying her face inside her book. 

Alice leaned forward, whispering. “So James, who are you taking to the ball?” 

James groaned. “I uh..” he trailed off, “I don’t know. I might ask…” Y/N looked up, immediately making eye contact with him. Shit. “I might ask Evans.” 

The table froze as Lily walked up behind him. She tilted her head. “What about Evans?” 

James cleared his throat, turning around sheepishly. “Evans. Hi. I- Do you want to go to the ball with me?” 

Lily’s eyes widened, and she looked over at Y/N, Sirius, and Remus. The Ravenclaw’s eyes watered, but she smiled all the same. He wasn’t hers, and she knew that Lily had liked James at one point. Y/N didn’t want to take that away from her, seeing what it would be like to date him. She looked back at James hesitantly, nodding. “Sure. I’d love to.” 

Y/N harshly wiped away the tears, standing up. Her chair scratched against the floor, and the whole of the study hall looked over. She smiled, waving. “I’m finished. So I’m just-” She hiccuped, slapping a hand over her mouth. “I- I’m so sorry, I don’t know what’s wrong with me.” 

James looked at her sadly, but Y/N couldn’t find it in her to care. “I’m-” She stalked off toward McGonagall, handing her her papers.  

The older witch whispered, placing a comforting hand on the girl’s shoulder. “Ms. Baudelaire, are you alright?” 

She smiled, nodding. “Of course, Professor. Why wouldn’t I be?” 

Spinning on her heels, she walked past her friends without a second look. The door seemed to be a thousand miles away, and she started running toward it. The hall made her let out a sigh of relief, and she dropped to the floor, staring blankly. 

Sirius crouched down. “You alright Baudelaire?” 

Remus scoffed. “She’s obviously not fine, Pads.” 

“Well I was just-” 

Y/N smiled. “It’s alright Remus. He was just being nice.” 

Sirius nodded, smirking at the werewolf. “Yeah, Remus.” He sat beside her and sighed. “He’s a right prat, Y/N. If he can’t see how mad you are about him, or how mad he is about you, then he’s blind.” He murmured. “Technically he is legally blind.” 

Remus nodded in agreement. “Why don’t you just go with a group of friends? That would be… fun.”

Regulus stood beside Remus, staring sympathetically. Y/N smiled. “Do you and Dora want to make it a party?” 

Regulus’s eyes widened, and he mumbled. “I- I actually invited her as my date.”

She laughed, slapping a hand over her mouth. “I’m sorry, it’s not funny. That’s-” She smiled kindly. “That’s really great, Reggie.” 

“You can still come with us if you want.” 

“No thanks, Reg.” She shook her head. “I don’t think I’ll go.”

Sirius smirked, standing up and extending a hand. “Y/N Beatrice Bauldeaire, will you go to the ball with me?” 

Y/N glared. “Sirius don’t ask me because you feel badly.” 

He scoffed. “Please, Baudelaire. You’re hot, I’m hot. It makes sense.”

“I-” She tilted her head, blushing from the compliment. “That’s a fair point.” She took his hand, standing up. “Thank you, Sirius.” 

“I’m lucky to have you.”

Her heart stopped. “Anyone would be lucky to have you. You’re gorgeous.”

James’s messy hair peaked out of the study hall, walking over to the four students. He looked shy, which was unbeffiting of him. She felt satisfied, he should feel bad. “Alright?” 

Y/N stared at the ground, nodding. “Fine.” 

He nodded back. “Good.” 

She looked up, glaring at him. “More than fine. I’m going with Sirius to the ball.”  

James’s eyebrows rose. “Padfoot? And you? Is this a joke?” 

She tilted her head. “Where’s the joke? Sirius is hot; I’m hot. And better yet…” She walked up to him, crossing her arms. “He knows what he wants.” 

Sirius laughed, falling against the wall. Remus covered his smirk with his hand. 

“Merlin. Okay.” He smiled bitterly. “Well, have fun, Baudelaire. I’ll see you at the ball.” 

“See you.” She looked back at her friends, waving, and walking back to Ravenclaw Tower.

James turned to his best friends, thoroughly confused. “What is wrong with her?” 

Remus rolled his eyes. “You are oblivious, Prongs.” 

Sirius pushed off the wall, nodding. “You’re screwed.”

The girls decided to all get ready together, crowding into the Gryffindor girl’s dorm. 

Alice was going with Frank, (obviously), Mary with Amos Diggory, Marlene with Dorcas, Pandora with Regulus, and Lily with James (she was still apologizing.) Their dresses were all from Madam Malkin’s, customized to their personalities and, as Marlene said, overall aura. 

She wasn’t wrong. Marlene’s dress matched her perfectly, a sparkly black gown with a high slit and a deep v neck, she looked like she was the moon, which was perfect, considering that Dorcas was the definition of the sun. 

Lily chose green, Alice chose pink, Mary chose yellow, Pandora chose blue, and Y/N chose a cream dress with flower detailing. They looked like princesses.

The rest of the girls left soon after they finished getting ready, but Y/N lingered. Sometimes, she wished she had just said no to Sirius, and stayed in her room, sleeping through the night instead of dancing. Yet here she was, walking down the Gryffindor steps and holding her breath when she looked down at Sirius. 

“You look gorgeous.” 

Y/N rolled her eyes. “Potter.” 

He laughed. “Back to Potter now?” 

She didn’t even dignify him with a response, turning to Sirius. “Ready to go?” 

He nodded, winking. “After you, my lady.” 

She grinned, smacking his arm. “Shut it.” 

The ballroom was exquisite, covered with freshly bloomed flowers, and golden and silver trees. The floor was white marble, and the band’s instruments were mirroring the trees, also being gold and silver. Y/N leaned her head on Sirius’s shoulder, mumbling. “It’s gorgeous.” 

“It is.” She followed his gaze, smiling. 

“Go talk to him, Sirius.” 

“Really?” He looked down. “And leave you here?” 

“Well, I didn’t say all night. This is a ball you know. I expect to dance.” 

He laughed. “Why have we only just become friends?” 

She rolled her eyes. “I have no idea. Now go.” She walked over to the punch, taking a glass before sitting beside Lily. “And how is your evening?”

“Potter will not stop talking about you and Sirius.” The redhead complained.

“I’m sorry.” 

“No, I’m sorry.” 

“Lily…” 

“I should have never said yes. It was-” 

“Lily, you are not the one who needs to apoligize.” Y/N laid a hand over hers. “You’re a good friend.”

James’s unruly hair came into view, and she stood, smiling once more at the redhead. “Have fun. I’ll be dancing.” 

The ball had been raging for hours, and Y/N had spent most of her time dancing with 3/4th’s of the Marauders. Her legs were aching, and she walked away, grabbing another glass of punch and sitting down, leaning her head back. Rowena, she thought, how do they do it? Some of her classmates hadn’t left the dance floor the entirety of the dance. It was heartwarming, she’d decided, seeing all her friends having fun. Sirius offered his hand to Remus, and Regulus was currently being led by Pandora, who was giggling at how red he was. A hand grasped her shoulder, and she tensed, tightening her hold on her wand.

“Woah, Baudelaire. It’s just me.” 

“Oh.” She didn’t bother looking at him. “Hello, Potter.” 

She could feel the eye roll. “Merlin Y/N/N. Give it up already. What did I even do to-”

Y/N whipped around, scoffing. “Oh I don’t know! I just thought you would ask me to dance. Stupid of me to assume.”

James was bright red. “I’m sorry Y/N/N. I didn’t know if you wanted to- you know.” 

“I actually don’t know.” 

“I didn’t know if you wanted to go with me. I thought you’d want to go with Regulus.” 

“I feel you need a better radar of who likes who, James.” She sighed. “I-” She smiled. “It’s in the past.” 

“Would you like to dance then?” He held his arm out. “I believe this song is one of your favorites.” 

She grinned, looking over in shock at the band. “I don’t remember telling you that I liked this song, James.” She whipped back toward him, squinting. “How did you know?” 

“I may or may not have been under my cloak when I passed you talking to Remus.” He paused, tilting his head curiously. “You tell Remus a lot.”  

“Fantastic observation James.” She stood up, putting her hand in his. “Are we going to dance or-” 

“After you.” 

She rested her head on his chest, swaying to the music. He looked down, humming. “You know you look really beautiful tonight.” James spun her quickly, her hands landing on his chest. “You took my breath away.” 

She threw her head back in laughter, not caring he could definitely tell she was blushing. “That’s rather cliche of you, Potter.”

He smiled. “Yes, it is. But it worked, didn’t it?” He leaned down, whispering in her ear. “You’re smiling.”

“I’m always smiling.” She glared. “You’re not the exception.” 

“Oh?” He raised an eyebrow. “That hurts, love.” 

“Don’t-” She stopped. “I lied.” She whispered. “You make me smile more than I should.” 

“I think,” he leaned down. “I want to kiss you.” 

“James.” Y/N scolded. “Surely your date would be disappointed?” 

“Who do you think encouraged me dance with you?” 

“I don’t want to hurt her…” She mumbled. “But I really want to kiss you.” 

“Then do it.” He smirked. “Don’t be shy, love. I’m right here.” 

taglist: @beebeechaos

[aconites]

guess who's back from hiatus...! i hope 2025 is treating you well, mine has been quite hectic but things have finally calmed down which means i have time to write again. that being said, if you want to do threads with someone who will message you with random headcanons, musings and create graphics (manips, crackships, edits, etc​ )  for our characters — look no further. i also love to do multiple plots with the same partner. bellow the cut you’ll find a list of wanted faceclaims, opposites, ships and plots that i would love to do and if anything catches your interest please give this post a like and i’ll message you. this is for mutuals & non mutuals, so feel free to like this even if we have threads/plots happening already!

faceclaims i’d love to play!

* adria arjona** * madelyn cline** * melissa barrera** * camila morrone** * greta onieogou** * ana de armas * minka kelly** *cierra ramirez * michelle randolph * sydney taylor* *hannah dodd (in a bridgerton/period plot) * alisha boe (in a bridgerton/period plot) * mickey madison * sophie thatcher* * isabela merced *savannah lee smith * nicole wallace * agatha o'hara * phoebe tonkin** * margot robbie * camila queiroz* *sydney sweeney* *hande ercel * alycia debnam-carey* * simone ashley * melisa pamuk * olivia cooke * maia reficco * grace van patten* * jessica alexander** * meghann fahy * suki waterhouse * adelaide kane (in a bridgerton/period plot) * florence pugh * sophia bush * lily james (in a bridgerton/period plot) * gabriella wilde * sofia carson * danielle rose russell * danielle campbell * abigail cowen* * jenna ortega (v selective) *camila mendes * gemma chan * zendaya * sabrina carpenter

faceclaims i’d love to play against!

* all the ladies above * pedro pascal**** (loml) *damian hardung*** * charlie hunnam*** * ben barnes** * jon bernthal* * joseph quinn * joe keery * oscar isaac* *harris dickinson * theo james *christopher briney * tom ellis * henry cavill * diego luna * michiel huisman * matthew broome * aidan turner * ricky whittle * jamie dornan * richard madden * carlos miranda * garrett hedlund * clayton cardenas * jonathan bailey * jeffrey dean morgan * dj cotrona * alex fitzalan * harry styles * jacob elordi * boyd holbrook

some ships i’d love to do! * any of the above fcs combined tbh. ( m/f or f/f ) * click here for full list since tumblr has a text limit. (under co.)

plots id love to do! *these book based ones.* * this unhappily married dad/babysitter plot. * this angsty/fluffy my best friend is having my baby plot. * * this zombie apocalypse/last of us inspired plot* but also any za plot bc i have a ton of za based muses i'd love to play.* * celeb plots! especially this one. something like two super famous actors hiding their relationship or famous person/non famous plots? or what about muse a being a new neighbor to muse b, who's a famous actor but she has no idea who he is* * single dad/nanny plots! give me something cute and angsty. * escort/client plot where she breaks the most important rule… don’t fall for your client. *single dad/kindergarden teacher plot. i love this tropeeee. * grumpy ceo/soft assistant plots or even a ceo/assistant plot where he's an older millionaire who always end up in failed relationships but then realizes who he's been looking for this whole time is her & her being hearts eyes for him but never thinking he would go for her / there's a no dating policy at the company.*** * royal plots! bridgerton esqued plots! * * f/f socialites plot… blair/selena/upper east side inspired muses but make it gay* *brother's best friend plot. * crimey plots? sons of anarchy inspired? or maybe m.afia/m.ob/gang stuff?*** * bodyguard/client plots bc i’m a sucker for them* * soulmates plot. i have a whole lore i’ve been wanting to write out for ages so ** * sugar b.aby / sugar d.addy plots *  * best friends to lovers plots ( gimme angst) * friends with benefits plots where they're suppose to not catch feelings but ofc they do. gimme jealousy!!!!!! drama!!! *best friend's dad or dad's best friend plots 👀 (everyone over 25+)* *second chance at love plots. *based on the movie something borrowed plot. *a plot where muse a is a bar owner who pays off guys that muse b meets up for blind dates at his bar because he really likes her and she finds out. * *age gap plots in general, i'm a sucker for them (everyone over 25+)** *CLICK HERE FOR MORE BC TUMBLR HAS A TEXT LIMIT.

[ecommmax]

The house was vast, its corridors filled with the hush of whispered steps and the quiet rustle of skirts against thighs. Jane stood poised, her fingers lightly gripping the wooden handle of her mop, her breath slow, controlled. The air carried the faint scent of lavender polish and warm candle wax. Every inch of her body hummed with awareness. She had been taught to wait, to listen, to obey.

To her left, Olivia stretched up, her delicate hands dusting the highest shelves, the motion drawing her dress tight against her hips, her mouth slightly parted in quiet concentration. Behind her, Lily swept, her posture perfect, the slow, deliberate motion of her broom a ritual of submission. They worked in silent synchrony, their movements fluid, elegant, practiced.

The Master’s rules were unspoken but absolute. Posture must be impeccable. Silence was to be maintained unless permission was granted. Correction, if given, was to be received with gratitude. Each task, each motion, was an offering—a devotion to the life they had chosen, or perhaps, the life that had been chosen for them.

Jane felt the weight of his gaze before she saw him. The heat of it traced the curve of her neck, the arch of her back, the way the crisp white apron cinched her waist and framed the swell of her breasts. Her lips parted, just slightly.

She longed for the moment he would step forward, fingers grazing the edge of her apron, tilting her chin up with nothing more than a silent command. A brush of his breath at her ear, a whisper of approval—or discipline. Her pulse quickened. She had been trained well, molded to be the perfect vessel of service, pleasure, and devotion.

Across the room, Olivia had stilled, sensing him too. A flush crept up her neck, vanishing beneath her starched collar. Lily’s sweeping slowed, the tension in the air palpable, the anticipation a silent symphony between them.

They had no need to look at one another. They understood.

They existed for his pleasure.

For they had been born to serve.

[sanccharine]

13 | winners and losers

hogwarts au

pairing: hufflepuff!tzuyu x slytherin!reader genre: fluff, slice of life word count: 3.3k

warnings: brief descriptions of injuries, swearing, and stupid angst :D

summary: whether on the field or during class, you never shied away from trouble. and in your sixth year, trouble seemed to follow you like a shadow, though you couldn’t complain. especially when that series of misfortunes led you to the transfiguration prodigy, chou tzuyu. includes: red velvet’s yeri, ateez's san, txt’s yeonjun, viviz’s sinb, loona’s olivia hye

status: ongoing a/n: happy pride month yall, tho there is nothing happy about this part i fear, very homophobic of me ik, time i out myself

masterlist | chapter 12 | chapter 14

More than anything, it was instinct that saved you. 

Well, instinct and the cushioning spell. 

You couldn’t have cast it even if you wanted to. Not that you didn’t know the spell, you simply forgot it existed. You were more than all right taking the fall, can’t be more dangerous than usual. But, you really did appreciate the softer landing. One moment, you were free-falling with the ground rising at insane speed and the next, you’d hit the land, rolling around as you kicked sand up. 

With a defeated groan, you stopped on your back. Coughs sputtered out of you, no doubt a result of all the sand you ate, while your hand gently let go of your broom. The whine was clear even between the sounds of an ongoing match. 

In your hands, lay your broom—your gift—cracked in two.  

That’s it. 

You were done. 

And so was your broom. 

Maybe you hadn’t broken any bones, but your back was gone. There was no way you were going to class the next week. Lying on the sand, still running on adrenaline, the pain hadn’t settled. You were sure, all through next week bruises of all colours and various levels of pain will bloom much like flowers during spring. But at least, you were done. 

You were done!

A relieved sigh escaped between the panting as you squinted up at the players. Most of them had stopped to see if your fall had been fatal. The game was momentarily paused for you.

Eunbi was the first to arrive. Where from is a question you will never have answered. 

“Told you we’d win,” she said with that wicked grin of hers. 

She was standing at your side, leaning down enough that her face made up most of your vision. From her neck to her ears, she was flushed. It was a scarlet so dark it was almost concerning. She was bearing all her teeth, something between a smile and a method to catch her breath. Exhaustion or elation, it wasn’t clear. Eunbi looked at you all expectantly, as if you had to share the excitement. You weren’t privy to what was running on her mind, you seldom were. 

“No,” you groaned, grappling at the strap digging into your chin. The helmet had done its job. “No, you didn’t.”

Eunbi pouted. 

You sent her a look at the expression, though she just let her smile grow again. The referee landed a few meters away from you. Before they could ask the relevant questions and make it a whole thing, you were quick to give them a thumbs-up. The crowd erupted at your sign, the game didn’t need to be stopped. Still grinning, Eunbi stuck out her hand. The quicker you get out, the quicker the game ends. You took her hand. 

“And,” you paused. 

Something stopped you from fully clasping her hand. 

Something round. 

“We… didn’t win.” 

Staggering, you came to stand, your helmet slipping behind you. Toe to toe, you stood with Eunbi, hand still gripping hers. This close to her, you could really see the specks of light catching in her eyes, her iris alight with mischief. A sight you only witnessed on the field. 

Gulping, you looked down just as your conjoined hands pulled apart. 

Golden wings unwrapped and fluttered, the singing ball floated right up to your eyes as if it were greeting you. And then, it was turning towards Eunbi, circling around her as if begging for her attention. 

“There is no way—!”

The referee blew the whistle. 

“You can’t be serious.”

The points dinged as they rose. 

“You’re insane.”

The crowd was raucous. 

“Told you we’d win,” Eunbi smiled before looking up at the rest of the players. Widening that bright grin, she caught the snitch again and then held it up high. 

To say the Slytherin team were dumbstruck would be a very easy statement, but a lie. Every member of your team was agape, frozen. To be fair, even you couldn’t move—and no, it was not because of your injuries. 

When Slytherin did begin to lose their stupor, Gryffindor was still fuming. 

You could understand them… just a little bit. 

“Did you really need to do all of that?” you asked, cringing at her dramatics. Of course, she pulled stunts like this. That’s how she won her first game. Though they mostly happened to be tricks of the mind rather than extravagant displays. 

“The game was boring,” she shrugged, glancing at the crowds and then at your broken broom. “Probably, the most interesting thing was you struggling for half the game and then plummeting.”

Addressing the jab with a roll of your eyes, you asked. “When did you even get it?” 

“Maybe around ten minutes ago,” Eunbi shrugged again, smiling and waving at our teammates who were landing. The snitch responded with her. “Everyone was too busy focusing on you. Soobin never announced his spotting of the snitch, if he even spotted it, and you were unpredictable. Gryffindor was struggling to get around you and Yeri—a smart choice to change plays in the middle, by the way. Good distraction. So, yeah—”

You put it together quickly. 

“You used me,” you stated, kind of hurt. A lot, hurt actually. Eunbi just shook her head. “Yeah, you did! Ten minutes ago—You could’ve stopped the game, you know I was struggling and you even removed our substitutes—”

Eunbi turned to you with a dead stare. All of her mirth from the previous seconds was gone. A look saved just for you, moments before the team engulfs the two of you with praise. 

“You were finally getting out of your head, finally playing the game,” she said. “I wasn’t going to stop that.” 

And then she pointed at your left hand. And you followed her finger.

It wasn’t shaking at all. You hadn’t even noticed. 

You didn’t know what to say. 

When you looked at Eunbi, she must’ve recognized some emotion in you. Perhaps, gratitude, maybe fondness, either way, she couldn’t handle it, so she turned away. 

“Besides,” she cleared her throat to salvage herself. “We were twenty points behind and I—oof!”

Eunbi went down. Olivia had basically pounced on her. 

You let out a snort. “As if that mattered with the—!”

Yeonjun slammed into you and down you went, for the second time that day. 

Turns out your injuries weren’t too bad. Nothing a little magic couldn’t fix, right? Though you guessed it was more that Madam Yun was sick of you wasting space in her wing. 

The weekend after the game, Slytherin dorms had their wildest party yet. Your team finally was allowed to let loose, going all out and doing the most. Yeonjun had challenged Olivia in some muggle game, clearly baiting her into some easy bet. Olivia, being the competitive spirit, fell for it headfirst. Your beloved first-years just watched their seniors with glassy wide eyes. You doubt there was anything admirable about their seniors, but you weren’t going to burst the first-year's bubble. Minwoo had gained another chocolate frog from you (stolen from the hospital wing, of course) but he let the frog sit atop his shoulder. He’ll have to learn the hard way why that was a terrible idea. 

From time to time, your housemates dropped by to drag you into the revelries but you just shook your head. You were quite comfortable on your couch. After the week you’ve had, you appreciate the stillness. Speaking of…

Your hand was fully under your control. 

Holding both your left and right up, you turned them over and over again to study them. No trembling at all. There were faint shots of pain, more memory than actual pain. 

You were clenching and unclenching your fist when someone whacked your hand away. 

Yeri propped herself on your lap and nestled in, making herself comfortable at your expense. Her legs hung over the couch as she sighed at the ceiling. 

“Happy?” she asked, looking at you upside down. 

Rolling your eyes, you gently moved around her straying strands of hair and she closed her eyes. 

“We won, didn’t we?” 

Yeri hummed. “Not what I was talking about.” 

You paused your ministrations. You weren’t sure what she was talking about.  

With a sigh, Yeri reached out to take your left hand in hers. Intertwining her fingers from the back, she showed your palm to her face so she could trace the lines with her index finger. 

“I feel like you worry over nothing,” she said, suddenly deep in thought. “You know, no one on the team doubted you for a second.”

Now she was drawing random shapes on your palm, from stars to smiley faces. 

“I don’t understand how every year you keep second-guessing yourself,” Yeri said with another sigh. “Eunbi was adamant on it—kicking Hyukwoo out, that is.” 

Your whole body tensed. On a mind of its own, your eyes found Eunbi all the way across the common room. And as if she felt your stare, she looked back at you, coolly.

“No one was against it, but everyone knew it was a dicey move,” Yeri confessed. “Whether the fight happened or not, I think she would have done the same. It just so happened she got lucky—an easy reason—no one could refute her argument. That is, even if it meant it would burden us.” 

Now this was going beyond a simple school game, beyond your personal squabbles. 

“She shouldn’t be playing games like that, her actions will get back to—”

“Eunbi has already been scouted, her position is already confirmed—”

“Alright, then what about the team? What about us?” About me? was the unspoken question. “This year won’t be easy, they won’t make it easy—”

“Then, we’ll just have to wait and see,” Yeri concluded at the same time she dropped your hand. Your best friend stretched like a cat, before turning over to lie on her stomach. Propping her chin on her hand, she kicked her feet as a shiny gloss lit her eyes. “So how do we feel about Tzuyu?”

“That’s quite the topic change,” you pulled a face but she continued, undeterred. 

“And your detention with her?” 

“I don’t,” you paused to think about it. What did you feel about it? “I don’t really feel anything. It's just detention.”

“Yeah, somehow I doubt that,” San’s voice chirped from your right as he seated himself on the armrest, his shoulder bumping into yours. 

“You know there are perfectly empty chairs right across,” you said, faking your derision. 

“Yeah, but I just want to snuggle close to you like—” You shoved San’s face away before he could plant a kiss on you. Though it was proving to be difficult when both his hands were already wrapped around your shoulders. 

“Oi, don’t change the topic—we’re talking about Tzuyu,” Yeri swatted at his arms, but with no real fight. “Seriously, how do you feel about her?”

“I thought we were talking about how I feel about detention with her?”

“Same difference,” both your friends said at the same time. 

You frowned at that. 

“What exactly am I supposed to be feeling?” you asked, in a way to stall so you could honestly bring out your thoughts of her. It was all too muddled, unfortunately. 

San rounded himself and took a seat on the coffee table, your knees almost touching. 

“Well, you like her, don’t you?” San asked as if it were so simple. You were already shaking your head but he just continued. “You’re always worrying about her.”

“Well, more like worrying about how Tzuyu sees them.” At that, you shot Yeri a questioning glare. “Don’t act like it’s not true.”

“I’m not, is it so bad that I don’t want to look like a fool in front of her?”

“Well, you’ve never cared about it before—”

“Well, I guess she’d never been on my radar before—”

“Alright, then, what changed? Why is she on your radar now?” 

You purse your lips. 

They’d caught you. 

You didn’t have an answer. 

What was different now?

“I don’t know,” you admitted. 

The confession made you feel more bare than you’d like.

San and Yeri shared a look. 

“It is clear how much you care for her,” San says so sweetly, you shudder a bit. Care for her? Of course, you do! You just don’t understand the distinction that deserves a whole conversation. 

“Teasing aside, it's good for you—I mean you’re studying and working harder than ever,” Yeri said, “but most of all you’re finally stepping out.”

Before you could ask what that means, she continues. 

“You never really cared for anyone but us, Slytherins, or quidditch players—I could even argue anyone but our team doesn’t really register as important in your mind,” you had to bite back the nerve to ask, why would they? “But standing up for those first-years—”

“Anyone would’ve done that,” you rolled your eyes. 

“Alright then, on top of that, studying with Tzuyu? Practicing with Yeosang!” Yeri stressed the last point while San nodded. “They’re small changes to you, yes, but to an outsider, it looks like it is really helping you.” 

Helping you? Helping you for what? 

You narrow your eyes at Yeri, but she doesn’t shy away from you. She just kept staring at you as if she heard the question in your mind. As if she was urging you to think about what she meant. As if you had the answers. 

So you did. 

All the way back to how you befriended Yeri. 

Or more so, how she had befriended you. She had clambered onto the train, wide-eyed and loud, instantly recognising the name embossed on your suitcase. She hadn’t even asked to enter the cabin or if you were waiting on anyone else. Yeri asked a million questions, all of which you ignored until she called you out. On your passive expression, on your unfriendliness, and on how you stared out your window when your parents didn’t even wait to see you depart. When you finally deigned her with a response, she grinned, having struck gold. 

Later in the year, she revealed that you’d met her before. None of it rang a bell to you, but by that time, she’d grown to be someone quite important. You found yourself clinging on to her more than she did to you. Besides, it did help that whatever trouble you caused or didn’t, she was always the first to back you up. Very quickly, you found yourself doing the same—a loyalty so unwavering, that you didn’t really care for anyone else. 

That’s how it went with Yeri. That’s how it went with everyone else. Every single one of your close friends. 

How San introduced himself with a snack because he’d bought too many, (he had lied, he believed sharing snacks would help him make friends if his words failed). Or how Yeonjun had passed you notes because he was bored at the back of the first History lesson, (you both had been kicked out and never earned the professor’s trust ever again—not that either of you cared for it). How Eunbi made a singular comment on correcting your form when she’d caught your practising spells late at night, a throw-away note, she hadn’t even stopped to say it (and you never got to thank her after the Charms professor praised you).  

All of them had approached you first, regardless if their intention was to befriend you or not. They come to you, befriend you, and you just let them… Or more that they’d broken through. Seen you through your passiveness and unfriendliness as a young Yeri had put it. 

How many more were there? How many more interactions filtered through your mind as irrelevant much like how you’d met Yeri before and had no recollection of it? How many more friends had you lost because you were busy picking and choosing who to speak to and how to speak to them? Whether they deserved your response, being selective on whether they deserved to take up space in your mind? 

When put in words, it sounded awful. Even if it wasn’t your intention, it seemed so so awful. Almost like… your parents. 

“I hope they help you. Help you understand that the world doesn’t end when you make one wrong move. Help you understand that you’ll be fine if you fail from time to time,” Yeri paused to let out a deep sigh. You knew she was thinking about your parents too, but she didn’t feel like saying. Why, when you knew already? “I hope that they help you understand that you’re more than just some Quidditch player, or a decent Transfiguration student, or another L/N.” 

“That’s not her job,” the words escaped you before you could even recognise what you were saying. 

You’ve truly lost where this conversation was going. 

“That’s not their job,” you corrected. San and Yeri shared a look while you folded your arms. 

Weren’t there bigger problems to concern yourselves with than whatever you had going on with Tzuyu? Which wasn’t much. 

“That doesn’t matter! Focus on how I broke my broom—”

“We all saw that, don’t change—”

“Yeri, I’m just saying Tzuyu is not a concern—”

“Our next game is not a concern! It isn’t for weeks! Plus we have school brooms,” Yeri said.

“And spare brooms,” San added, knowing he could ask his parents to send some for you. 

“That still doesn’t guarantee a smooth game, I mean this game we barely—”

“I don’t understand why you won’t let anyone near you,” Yeri shuffled back, now kneeling on the couch. 

“And I don’t understand what you’re talking about,” you flashed San a look, hoping he’d help you in some way. Nothing. “Seriously, what are we even talking about now?”

“I forget how you can be so clueless,” Yeri shook her head and moved away from the couch. She gave you one last look before leaving. “That’s my bad.”

You watched her disappear into the crowd with a sour taste in your mouth. This fight was not a new one. Every year something along the same lines always came up, but truly this time there was no root to it. At least, not one you could pinpoint.

“You’re distracted,” San offered kindly. When you pursed your lips, he sighed. “Tzuyu has been distracting you.” 

“Is she helping me, or distracting me? Which is it?” you asked, and a passing look on San told you he didn’t appreciate the tone. You mumbled your apology before running your hand down your face. “I’ve been practising the best I can, studying the best I can, what are you saying—”

“It’s not a bad thing,” San stopped your words. “Anyone with eyes can see the two of you have been circling each other since the start of the year, though it's become so tense—”

“Yeah, well, I was injured because of her,” you emphasised the point as much as you could. Then you brought your hand up to unfurl a finger every time you made a point. “And then, she went and took the blame. And I don’t even know why she bothered to try to make a friend out of me—”

“Don’t you think these are things you should be talking to her about?” 

Then you froze. 

Whatever you’d said you didn’t feel at the start of the conversation had just poured out of you, out of nowhere—no, from somewhere deep in you. 

“That’s what Yeri means, though she put it less kindly,” San said, placing a hand on your knee. He furrowed his brows, debating if he should say the thing he was thinking, far too gentle to not mince his words, far too different from Yeri. “You can confront people without your fists connecting with their face.” 

You stared at the hand on your knee. “Does it matter?” 

“If you’re so wound up over it, I’d say it does,” and then San reached for your left hand. 

And with horror, you felt it flinch away.

any feedback is much appreciated.

a/n: i said two months but it was three guys im sorry im such a liar ;-; lol anygays have a good day/night everyone !

taglist: @someone-who-likes-broccoli @tatliegilim @nanabongos

send an ask to be added !

[optimistpax]

Comics by Black Cartoonists

It's Black History Month y'all! Go support your local (and international!) Black cartoonists because they're out here making fantastic work.

This is by no means a comprehensive list, but here is a list of some of my favourite comics by Black cartoonists, artists, and/or writers:

Clock Striker by Fredrick L. Jones and Issaka Galadima (Steampunk/Fantasy)

Barda by Ngozi Ukazu (Sci-fi/Romance)

Brooms by Jasmin Walls and Teo DuVall (Fantasy/Sports)

Bunt! by Ngozi Ukazu and Mad Rupert (Sports/Slice of Life)

The Unlikely Story of Felix and Macabber by Hassan Otsmane-Elhaou and Juni Ba (Fantasy/Sports(?))

The Last Session by Jasmin Walls and Dozerdraws (Slice of Life)

Moon Girl and Devil Dinosaur by Amy Reeder, Brandon Montclare, and Natacha Bustos (Superhero/Fantasy)

CHEW by John Layman and Rob Guillory (Fantasy/Mystery/Horror)

Far Sector by NK Jemisin and Jamal Campbell (Superhero/Sci-fi)

Bitch Planet by Kelly Sue DeConnick and Valentine De Landro (Dystopian)

Artie and the Wolf Moon by Olivia Stephens (Fantasy)

Check, Please! by Ngozi Ukazu (Sports/Slice of Life/Romance)

[upstairsdownstairsandinbetween]

Mill Owners’ Association Building, Ahmedabad, Gujarat, India.

Architect: Le Corbusier,

Image: © Nathan Willock-View/Alamy,

Courtesy of Olivia Broome and Hoxton Mini Press

[pixeldolly]

The Sacrifice - Part 4

He hummed the lullaby softly to himself, over and over.

Follow the song...it was a trick he had learned long ago, as a child looking for a way out of his mother's mental prison.

Follow the song out of the grey, into the light.

Roman came back to himself with a jolt. It was like surfacing from a murky dream, directly into a nightmare.

The acrid afterburn of dark magic assailed his nostrils, while his head buzzed with the sound of his mother's incessant chanting. Though he couldn't understand the words, they skittered in his ears like bugs.

Cold panic flooded him and he clamped his hands over his mouth to keep himself from crying out.

Roman had no time to ponder why his mother had resurfaced after twenty years and what her intentions were. His every instinct screamed danger.

Olivia!

The thought of his daughter propelled him into action - he had to act fast, while she was distracted!

Eliza appeared completely immersed in her...ritual, prayer, whatever it was. Her voice ebbed and flowed in a dissonant rhythm that made his head ache whenever he focused on it, so he tried not to.

All he had for a weapon was an old broom, but if he moved quickly and quietly, it might save him.

Just a couple more steps...

Roman didn't didn't as much as glance over his shoulder to see if she was out cold. Heart pounding, he made a break for the stairs...

...only to find his way barred. The door leading out of the basement was locked, and radiated a red heat which repelled him whenever he tried to breach it.

The sound of heels clicking on the stone below made Roman's blood turn to ice in his veins.

Eliza Clare was far from defeated, and she was furious.

"Wh-What's happening?!"

Before he could blink, Roman found himself right back where he started, naked above the waist and unable to move. Somehow, that filled him with more dread than anything she had done before.

"I'm teaching you some manners, since you've obviously forgotten yours. Breaking my compulsion? Well done, I didn't think you had it in you. But hitting your own mother with a broomstick? That's unacceptable."

"That's rich, coming from you!"

Roman struggled against his magical bonds, but all he could move was his head. He was otherwise completely immobilized.

"Why are you doing this?! What do you want?"

"I want to live, my darling. It's as simple as that."

"I don't understand!"

Eliza smiled indulgently and stroked Roman's cheek; her touch made his skin crawl with revulsion, but there was little he could do but to endure it.

"Long ago, before you were born even, I made a deal with a...certain entity. Youth and immortality were offered to me in exchange for a soul. It was supposed to be my soul, but I was able to persuade the entity in question to accept another."

Roman was aghast, but his anger momentarily overrode his fear.

"You sold my soul - your own son's soul - so you could look good for eternity?! Watcher...you're a monster!"

He didn't even register her slap until the side of his face flared red hot then went numb.

"Don't be obtuse! Do you have any idea what someone with my knowledge and abilities could accomplish in fifty, a hundred, five hundred years?! Of course you don't, since you are nothing but a Mundane."

"And you've always hated me for it. Is that why you chose me for this...sacrifice? So you can finally have your revenge on your mundane, non-magical child?"

"I never hated you, Roman. I was disappointed in you. You were supposed to be my disciple, my heir, with our powers combined we could have achieved so much - but, alas."

"Go to hell."

"You know, I was going to spare you this part, make it so that you weren't aware of what was happening, but now I think you could benefit from a little clarity of mind."

Roman ground his teeth together until his jaws hurt, refusing to scream, not wanting to give her the satisfaction of his pain. Picturing Olivia in his mind helped, for a while.

In the end, he screamed anyway.

"The trail ends here."

"Are you sure?"

"Yup. I can't pick up his scent beyond this area."

"But this is the building where my sister lives!"

[monsoon-of-art]

When was Olivia’s first appearance as Dragonfly? What was it like? Also, conversely, what was Lee’s first outing as Hayday like?

After training for a few years, her first outing was...a bit of a rollercoaster, physically. Her first time using her wings, she spent a good chunk of her first night flying around the city to get used to them. (You can't exactly test them inside, but you can't test them too early to draw suspicion!)

It certainly got the city buzzing with rumors, because The Dragonfly had been gone for years at that point. The corrupt police force and politicians and criminal underbelly were less than enthusiastic, but the people of the city were definitely interested.

Hayday's first outing was...less than glamorous. Mostly out of desperation. Basically taking apart and using an old scarecrow they had in storage, Hayday's first crime was probably mugging someone in an alley. No scythe, no broom, he didn't even have a name for himself. Once the whole 'hey this masked crime thing might be helpful', that's when he started actually putting in effort.

[respirgender]

Halloweeniden

Description: A xeniden related to, based on, or connected in some way to Halloween.

Colours: Black, orange, purple, green, and any other colours one may associate with Halloween.

Themes and aesthetics: Trick or treating, autumn/fall, trees losing their leaves, being scared and scaring others, watching horror movies, haunted houses, bats, black cats, spiders, eating candy, pumpkins and jack-o'-lanterns, witches, vampires, ghosts and ghouls, zombies, skeletons, carving pumpkins, hanging out with friends, dressing up in costumes, Halloween parties, darkness and nighttime, the full moon, graveyards, nostalgia

Name ideas: Autumn, Maple, Mabel, Ambrose, Jack, Jackson, Anabelle, Samara, October, Edgar, Blair, Raven, Ravenna, Luna, Rosemary, Freddy, Helena, Michael, Edward, Jason, Salem, Elvira, Victor/Viktor, Eve, Sabrina, Carrie, Laurie, Ivy, Elizabeth, Simon, Sidney, Samantha, Norman, Patrick, Ed, Todd, Pamela, Amanda, Olivia, Lila, Sally, Nancy, Onyx, Jett, Dracula, Casper, Frankie, Pumpkin, Twilight, Spirit, Daphne, Vampira, Dexter, Ash, Birch, Nutmeg, Lenore, Caroline, Coraline, Reese, Mary, Octavia, Frank, Toby, Matilda, Adam, Ann, Trick, Trixie, Hal, Hazel, Sally, Amber, Rowan, Aspen, Allan/Alan, Evelyn, Heather, Lucy, Jamie, Jinx, Thorn, Ebony, Vlad, Igor

Pronoun ideas: pumpkin/pumpkins, spooky/spookys, hallow/hallows, halloween/halloweens, candy/candys, trick/tricks, treat/treats, scare/scares, bat/bats, were/weres, werewolf/werewolfs, howl/howls, vamp/vamps, horror/horrors, fall/falls, autumn/autumns, fright/frights, blood/bloods, night/nights, haunt/haunts, haunted/haunteds, tomb/tombs, costume/costumes, cat/cats, eve/eves, ghost/ghosts, zomb/zombs, zombie/zombies, bite/bites, jack/jacks, carve/carves, witch/witches, broom/brooms, broomstick/broomsticks, sweet/sweets, growl/growls, scream/screams, terror/terrors, web/webs, cobweb/cobwebs, spider/spiders, bone/bones, skull/skulls, grave/graves, ghoul/ghouls, fall/falls, october/octobers, 🎃/🎃s, 🍂/🍂s, 🍁/🍁s, 🦇/🦇s, 🐈‍⬛/🐈‍⬛s, 🐈/🐈s, 🐱/🐱s, 🍭/🍭s, 🍬/🍬s, ��/🍫s, 🌙/🌙s, 🌕/🌕s, 😱/😱s, 💀/💀s, 🦴/🦴s, ☠️/☠️s, 👻/👻s, 🦉/🦉s, 🕷️/🕷️s, 🕸️/🕸️s, 🎭/🎭s, 🕯️/🕯️s, 🗡️/🗡️s, 🔪/🔪s, ⚔️/⚔️s, 🪓/🪓s, ⚰️/⚰️s, ⛓️/⛓️s, 🖤/🖤s, 🧡/🧡s, 💚/💚s, 💜/💜s, 🩸/🩸s, 🪦/🪦s, 🥧/🥧s, 🧹/🧹s, 🧟/🧟s, 🧛/🧛s

Music ideas: Halloween music, horror movie/game soundtracks, the Misfits, Creature Feature, Rob Zombie

Related terms: Autumniden / Falliden

[flimflamfandom]

Washboard Blues, and other Vignettes

Vignettes (I guess they call them Imagines these days?) I wrote in the Lackadaisy Discord, plus one that’s original on here.

There are 4 on offer: -You’ll Thank Me When You Grow Old (Discord) -If Only She Knew (Discord) -Washboard Blues (Discord) -You’re Gonna Look Fine (new for this post)

I also allude to an original character from @ladybugkisses ! I don’t really include her, it’s mostly about Rocky, but she’s there so I’m tagging it and mentioning Ari. Give her a follow if you haven’t already!

You’ll Thank Me When You Grow Old

Rows of sunlight snuck through the blinds in the dorm. It was cold - drafty, and wet outside, with typical dorm room quality insulation (that is to say - bad insulation) made for a rather frigid experience. 

Still, Helen was wrapped up in the covers, Olivia was in a thick bath robe - And Ivy was nowhere to be seen. That is, until the door crept open, revealing a rather bleary eyed Ivy, still in clothes from the night before - party clothes, with a hastily thrown on tweed jacket. 

Olivia peered up from her glasses while reading, like a disappointed mother. "You're home early." She said, a snide lilt in her voice. 

"I...stayed at a friend's place." 

"Sure you did." Olivia stood. "And I bet you sat there and played dominos all night, too?" Olivia walked over to her bed, and got a few things from the shelf nearby. 

"Olivia, what does it matter if-" 

"It matters that you're out so late! I was worried sick!" 

"Freckle is nothing to worry about, he's a good man!" "He works at that no good, low down Daisy-whatever. I bet he'll die in some awful shoot out anyhow." 

"Olivia!" Ivy gasped, as she removed the jacket, and her evening sleeves, "How dare you say something like that!" 

"It's true! What's next? He gets you tied up in it?" 

"...well..." 

"...IVY. MICHELLE. PEPPER." Olivia seemed mortified. "You're NOT gonna keep doing that! You'll get killed!" 

"What does it matter to you!?" 

"We're your FRIENDS, Ivy! Don't we mean ANYthing to you?" Olivia fought on a sweater, and got her shoes on. "...I'm going to class. I don't want to hear about...mobsters or whatever." Olivia put her hands on Ivy's shoulders. 

"You'll thank me when you grow old." 

Olivia walked out the door. Ivy stood there. She sniffled. Helen rubbed sleep from her eyes. 

"...oh, morning Ivy," She yawned, "Did you...see Oli? She wanted to talk to you." 

"...how did you sleep through that?" 

"Sleep through what?" 

"Nevermind.”

-

If Only She Knew

Calvin sat there as the record player warbled. Something about a washboard. He sat, nervously, in Mitzi May's office. Ivy was there, too. The two seemed to be in fairly hot water. Calvin and Ivy'd been caught by Mitzi in the broom closet as it were. Ivy, still in her green dress, looked up at Freckle. 

"Think you'll have to stop working for the Daisy?" 

"Maybe." 

"Well. Always the Marigold." She said. 

"Not in my life." He said. "If I'm forced into retirement I'm going-" 

The door opened. Ivy gripped Clavin's hand. Mitzi stormed in. "I must admit, I'm awfully cross you two chose to do this on the clock." 

"Mitzi, with all due respect, Calvin's hands were hardly near my-" 

"It's not about that!" Mitzi said. "I do NOT want to hear the details! What's important is that you should NOT be doing that at work!" 

"I'm NOT on the job!" Ivy remarked. "It's my night off!" 

"Calvin is very much on the job." Mitzi replied. 

Calvin looked down. "...I, eh...I was...staking someone out." 

"...why didn't you say something!" 

"I tried, but you kept kissing me before I could say words!" 

"I do have a nasty habit of that." Ivy said. 

"I like that nasty habit." Freckle went a bit red, and drooped his ears. 

"Aww, Calvi-" 

"Excuse me." Mitzi said, sternly. "...I'm not gonna make you two stop seein' each other, that'd be too much. But Ivy, you ask me if Calvin's workin' next time." 

"...fine." 

"And you, Mr. McMurray." Mitzi said. "What are your intentions for my daughter?" 

"...beg...pardon?"

 "Your intentions." 

"...for your daughter?" 

"No, I haven't got a daughter." 

Ivy blinked. "...you said daughter." 

Mitzi's ears stood up. "...I said Ivy." 

"You called me your daughter!" Ivy gasped. "Does that mean-" She smiled brightly, "You love me like a mom!?" 

"Ivy, please, I-"

 "Does THAT mean I'm Ivy may? I like that! I like Ivy Mcmurray more, though~" She cooed. 

"Ivy, I-" 

"You two GET OUT!" Mitzi nearly chased them out with a stick. She sighed. 

"...that girl..." 

If only she knew.

-

Washboard Blues

Glitz. Glamor. Fame. Fortune. All these things came with running the newly successful Daisy. The dresses, the drinks, the fine friends, the gorgeous parties. 

And Mitzi was stuck washing clothes, before such a party, because Wick was 'indisposed'. 

"...You've got 3 maids and a secretary." She grumbled as she scrubbed. "And none of 'em could come to help with things?" She hung something else out. She huffed, and let out a sigh. "I ain't some dainty little housewife, Wick," she spoke, to no one in particular, "if you're not even gonna marry me why make me wash the clothes?" She sighed. "Atlas never made me do that." She grumbled. "I bet ZIB wouldn't! She yelped. "I bet he'd LOVE to wash the clothes from time to time! Closest he gets to a goddamn bath." She sighed. 

"...no, no." She shook her head. "Wick's...injured." She rolled her eyes. "Here I go again, cursing the sick and needy." She got back to scrubbing. She hummed to herself, and sang. 

"Mornin' comes with cloudy skies and rain...my poor back am broke with pain....My man's sleepin', I just scrubbin', chillin', weepin', I do rubbin' age a-creepin', clothes a-tubbin', all day long..." 

She sighed, alone in the back yard, stretching her back and grunting. Her joints cracked. And then... 

"...You know, Zib," She looked over to him, "You really don't have to play that on sax." She said. 

"How am I not gonna play Hoagy Carmichael?" He walked over, and put his instrument down, carefully. 

"What're you even doing here?" 

"Band's entertaining here tonight...I see you've got a bit of the washboard blues, huh?" 

"He's got a bad back, his maids are all sick, and Lacy is already on cooking duty..." She shook her head. 

"Just bad luck on his part." 

"Hmm." Zib shrugged. "You're right, you know." 

"Hm?" 

Zib cupped her chin. "I wouldn't make you wash nothin'." 

"...su...stop." She batted at him, playfully. She smirked. "You're too much." 

"If you say so."

-

You’re Gonna Look Fine

“...Rocky?”

“Hmm?”

“You’ve been looking in the mirror for something like 30 minutes.” Mitzi said, crossing her arms. “What’s got into you? You got a court date or somethin’?”

“Not a court date,” Rocky said, “A REAL date!”

“With who?”

“Ari!” “...it doesn’t ring a bell.”

“You wouldn’t know her, anyhow.” Rocky said, dismissively. “She’s beautiful! She’s got this fiery red fur, and white tailtip, like a...fox or something! How wonderful she is, how delightful, how-”

“Rocky,” Mitzi shook her head, “I understand you got a date goin’ but frankly there’s an awful lot of work to do and I don’t want you mussin’ that suit beforehand. I-...where are you even goin’ at this time’a day that requires that sorta dress?”

“Why, only the finest establishment in town!”

“...”

“HERE!” Rocky said. “For pancakes.” He suavely straightened his tie.

“...for pancakes?”

“She never had ‘em.”

“Rocky-” Mitzi pinched the bridge of her nose. “I do hope she likes you, because I can’t imagine a lotta other women doing so.”

“Do I look okay?”

“You’re gonna look fine.” Mitzi said. “Maybe a little over dressed for a breakfast...you look like you’re on your way to your wedding!”

Rocky sighed dreamily. “I suuuuure aaaaam...”

Mitzi chuckled a bit, and batted his arm. “You really are perplexing.”

“Is that her in the window?”

Standing there was a girl, with...fiery red fur, and a white tailtip. She looked reluctant to enter. Mitzi looked over. “Well, Rocky, you know how to pick ‘em, I’ll give y’that.”

“What if she thinks WE’RE talking though?”

“...despite my better efforts I look like I could be your mother, Rocky. Go ahead, open the door for her!”

“Alright...wish me luck, Miss May, ol’ boss ol’ pal o’mine!”

“Mhm.” Mitzi walked up to the office, and sat in her desk.

“...if THIS doesn’t work out for him, nothin’ will.”