THE SHOW MUST GO ON.

LILY MOON. xviii. she/her. hufflepuff. seventh year. halfblood. amaetur photographer. professional funnygirl. firewhiskey fanatic. honeybadger. da. charms aficinado. don’t let the bastards get you down. · · · · ❝Tell me how it is, being the sun. You could walk into a room and they’d all be watching you. They’d all get down on their knees. I ask you how it is, and you say, “It hurts. It hurts.” ❞

[lilymooning-blog]

⚡ + i dare you to be nice to me all evening :)

“You think you’re being clever with that but FYI it’s not as hard as you think!” Though, the minutes the words flew out of her mouth, Lily knew she was in for a journey. The fact was, drunk Lily and sober Lily, the latter who made an appearance maybe once every full moon, both had the problem of keeping their mouth shut. 

There was not much else worse than a smug Morag Macdougal, she’d seen it everywhere. On the quidditch field, in the hallways, on prefect rounds, when they bickered and it always drove her to Madness. Some days it was easier to mask, other days it was like she was a fire and Morag knew how to light the match. With that smug fucking look. 

Had she ever been shit to Megan though? Did Lily have reason to beat up Morag on Megan’s behalf? They were in love, the love was good, she’d not really seen that look around Megan. That’s what had to matter. That’s what stopped her everytime she was ready to fight her best friend’s girlfriend. Or play a particularly mean prank on her. Or verbally and physically attempt to demolish her. If she was important to Megan, by proxy, begrudgingly so, she was IMPORTANT to Lily. At the end of the day, it was why in her mind she never crossed that boundary. Hell, she wanted to, but she didn’t. 

“I’ll be so nice you’ll think I was possessed, your Highness. The best Ravenclaw Quidditch player. She who has the PRIVILEGE of being with Megan Jones. Oh, beautiful and perfect one, Morag Macdougal, only a twat half of the time which is more than I can say for half of these idiots at school. I’ll be so nice to you, let me get you a drink, even! Pick your poison. I’ll make something fierce. It’ll bite back.”

[lilymooning-blog]

☠ (from hannah!)

@abbbott“You really are one of the coolest fucking people I know, Hannah, I’m not just drunk or anything, I really mean that. One of the best people,” Lily commented, giving a moment to appreciate her friend. This party had done wonders for the morale, at least, she hoped it had – she knew it had for her own. There were times when it was hard to forget it all, to forget in general, those times happened too often but the party had stopped time itself. It had insulated Lily in a bubble of vibrancy, of life, that she’d been sorely missing. She knew she wasn’t alone in that. 

Hannah knew loss and desolation on a personal level, she knew it before this year, she’d carried a lot, she’d been through a lot and she was still ALIVE. Her presence a testament of a higher power, of something bigger than herself, Lily didn’t get it or understand but she didn’t have to. Lily saw the strength now more than ever, understood the burden of life was one that could indeed be carried. That as much as it weighed down your mind, body, soul that perseverance came from within, Hannah had mastered the art of getting through. 

The thought, she shouldn’t have to. None of them should’ve had to, came to her. She pushed it away. No. Tonight was not the night. Maybe in the morning she’d suffer, maybe in just a few hours it would kick in, but not now.

Now she was taking a shot with Hannah Abbott. 

“You’d be even cooler if we lit this on fire while we drank it down, though!”

[marchofwarhq-blog]

Below the cut is an ASK MEME for our Hufflepuff party event. This is a bit different than a typical ask meme, so here’s how it will work:

REBLOG THIS POST to participate (you can still send things to other people if you don’t participate yourself).

Send a maximum of one symbol to each person who reblogs, so no one gets flooded with more than they can write (unless you play more than one character, in which case you can send one for each).

Unlike typical ask memes, the content of these replies will be considered just as “real” as a normal thread.

For this reason, event memes DO count towards activity.

We also want to be careful with god-modding here, since anything you send someone is an actual event that will be happening. If you haven’t already discussed it, please shoot a quick message before sending a meme in order to make sure the other player is down with the idea / hasn’t already gotten too many of that same symbol.

These memes can serve as starters for threads if you wish ! Just make sure you copy & paste the first reply into a new post rather than reblogging the original ask.

They can also be short if you’d like — they’re meant to allow for quick, fun interactions like one would have at a party. Although if you’d prefer to go deeper into it, that’s fine too !

Keep reading

[lilymooning-blog]

brcklehursts‌:

Honestly, this was some chaotic bullshit. Mandy knew she knew better than to linger here, at the scene of a crime - where anyone could walk in and lump her with…well, Lily. As a person, she wasn’t bad. Even fun. But her antics…they were a recipe for trouble. She wanted no part in it. But she couldn’t force herself to walk away either, much to her chagrin. “If you believe in that muggle conspiracy theory, then you’re an idiot.” A few years ago, she might have put it down to Hufflepuff woolly headedness. But now she knew better than to discount the Badgers in yellow.

Slightly pacified by the compliment, Mandy was unable to resist the smile tugging at her lips, a warm sensation spreading across her chest. She wasn’t interested. Not in girls. Not in Lily. But the thought was nice. “You should probably work on your technique. It’s a little too crude to pick up most people around here. Although, everyone is like, oddly committed these days.” War-time romances. Or so said the cynic inside of her. 

Only just heeding Lily’s warning in time, Mandy darted under the desk in front of her. “You’re going to land both of us in detention.” She hissed, anxiously checking over her shoulder to make sure no one had heard. “Don’t you have better things to do?”

“Mandy Brocklehurst, are you giving me dating advice? Tell me more, I mean after all, you did bag Wayne,” though, if she was being honest, it was something she’d never understand. Opposites attract? Was Mandy secretly sweet? Was Wayne secretly more like Mandy? Lily could never deny that she didn’t really understand romantic love, she didn’t understand the appeal of coupling up now, of them getting even more attached to each other when she knew how easy it was to cut the cord of life and lose someone. ADDING an attachment? That could’ve been avoided? She didn’t get it. 

Maybe she could ask Mandy. Though, she doubted that would go over well, she thought, pleasantly surprised to see Mandy had gotten under the desk with her. So, maybe she did have a playful side -- even if it was more a necessity for survival than it was Mandy going along with her antics.  Inspecting the room, seeing the charms come to an end, pops, glitter, sequins and confetti -- her work there was done. Realizing how tired she was, her chaotic urge quenched, her anger fizzled out for now, she sighed, finally looking at Mandy. 

“Well, I mean, NOT REALLY. I should go probably plan the next party or something with Stephen or go beat up Megan but she’s probably sucking face with Morag somewhere, so. And you? You’ve got nothing better to do than to troll the halls like a ... troll?”

[midsommars-deactivated20201109]

Never Goin’ Back (2018) Directed by Augustine Frizzell

[lilymooning-blog]

WHEN: January 15, 1998. 18:50 WHERE: Gryffindor Common Room WHO: @lcvendcrs

     Lily found herself staring at Lavender.  The fire illuminated her figure in a warm way as if the warmth was coming from within as well ( it did, it did ). From her curls, her lips, the way her her fell on her shoulders and she thought -- shit. This was no time for romantic thought, this was no time for any of this bullshit that her mind loved to torture her with, especially love. Sighing, she went back to looking at the fire, trying to clear her thoughts, she was over this. She hadn’t felt that familiar ting, that warmth within her, in a while. Not the same anxiety that used to take over her being in Lavender’s presence, that electrified her to Lavender’s every move, word.  Even if the ghost of a feeling still haunted her, she let it -- it was a lot softer and kinder than the other things that went bump in the night in her head. She allowed it, but she buried it deeper than she had before because, again, this was no time for romance. It may have been allowed, but it was never coming to light. EVER. 

     “Hey, I could go for some firewhiskey right now. Are you game? I could make you a cute drink, maybe. Be your bartender for the night and every other bloody night, honestly. Lucky you, huh?”

[lilymooning-blog]

WHEN: January 16, 1998 10:30  WHERE: The Corridors and/or The Great Hall WHO: @pcrkinscns

     “PANSY FO FANSY FI FO DO DANSY PANSSYYY,” she screamed through the corridors a shit eating grin on her face. Was Lily tempting fate? Definitely. The fact remained that Pansy was just too fun to fuck with, she was Head Girl now too -- which -- was an adjustment and hilarious to Lily. While many people she knew were intimidated and didn’t want to even be in her presence, Lily continued to poke the dragon. Realistically, what was the worst that could happen that hadn’t already happened to her? Nothing. So, for her entertainment -- Pansy was. 

     “Look at us, just two flowers, hanging out. B.F.F.s practically. Tell me, how’s your reign of terror been since we started the new year? You’re like Attila the HONEY. A sexy Napoleon. ”

[lilymooning-blog]

WHEN: January 17, 1998. 3:44 A.M. WHERE: The Kitchens WHO: @trcydvs

     Nights like these were ones she barely survived through, it felt like. Her chest heaving, the world feeling like it had paused yet she could feel every single movement of the Earth spinning on its axis, like it was within her. Instead of being grounding, it was nauseating, she needed to something with her hands -- she needed to numb it all. It wasn’t until early morning, late at night that she could get peace in the kitchens, her little corner in the pantry her favorite space. Lily felt the tears fall down her face, barely registering them as hers, but let them flow because it felt like she had no choice but to do so. It didn’t matter how much food she ate, how much she drank, smoke, did, who she did, she ALWAYS came to this point at 3:44 A.M. crying. Liquid, involuntarily flowing out of her eyes, it was infuriating. Her anger alone didn’t make it stop. Nothing did.

     With a plate of chicken wings and a bottle of coke with some firewhiskey in it, she gorged herself as the tears fell. This was fine. This was ritual. This was normal. 

                                                    ( I am fine. )

     Until she heard someone.

     “Oi, fuck off, I got a bunch of chicken bones and I’m not afraid to use them.”  Lily desperately tried to wipe away her tears, realizing she was getting some hot sauce on her face, “fuck, shit.”

[lilymooning-blog]

WHEN: January 16, 1998. 14:40. WHERE: Outside of the Dark Arts Classroom WHO: @moragmac

     If Lily could be blind drunk during Darks Arts class, she would be. Instead, she settled for rewarding herself through making it another class by getting blind drunk after. This class however, was interesting as her best friend’s girlfriend had been tasked to torture students ( who wasn’t? ) and while she managed a half hearted no, she still proceeded to try after her very weak protests. 

     Except, she failed. Miserably. Lily couldn’t help but giggle, not bothering to stifle it in class, hoping that Morag the Hag would see it and struggle even more. This was hilarious, in the gallows humor way that Lily had been accustomed to finding amusing now. After class, she skipped up to Morag, way too gleeful for someone who’d just been experimented on ( and seen others experimented on ) with unforgivable spells. 

    “You got PERFORMANCE anxiety, Macdougal? Megan deserves better, R.I.P. to her pussy, huh.”

[lilymooning-blog]

abbbott‌:

send ☺ for a cheerful interaction.                                                 ( meme. accepting. )

WHEN: January 15, 23:12 WHERE: Hufflepuff common room WHO: @lilymooning​

It felt as if something had blurred out all the emotions Hannah had felt through the day. They were still there, but they had grown fuzzy, less distinguishable, and so more easily ignored. Hannah didn’t want to be this person — someone who drank when things became too much, who found comfort in strong liquor and making herself forget. But some days, it was who she was and then, it seemed as if there was nothing she could do about it. At least she wasn’t alone. Some nights, she preferred to float in the feeling of too much firewhiskey by herself, but on others she sought out people who longed for the same numbness. Luckily there were plenty of those, these days. 

Lily was always a good choice. They were already relatively tipsy, and Hannah was smiling more brightly than she had in a long time. That was partly due to how handy her skills in Exploding Snap were coming in. “Ha!,” she exclaimed, tapping one of the identical cards with her wand. “And once again, Abbott wins!” Hannah laughed, let her wand drop on the table and took another long sip from her glass. “That’s the last game for me, though. I just want to lie on the couch now and focus on finishing this.” She held up her concoction. “You’re not a sore loser, are you, Lily? I can’t deal with those.”

     If someone had told Lily Moon a few years back that she’d be drinking with Hannah Abbott and now laughing, giggling with glee while playing Exploding Snap during a time like this -- she’d have been excited for it. Hannah was a light, bright, kind, good, while Lily never knew if she was being a bad influence or not ( not that she cared too much, she’d always make sure Hannah was safe ), she knew that she thrived off Hannah’s presence and doing this right now? It was JOY. It was a little joy they found in the midst of something evil, dark, torturing, horrid. 

     Lily pursed her lips in fake disappointment, though her expression was more bright, happy, even though when it came to little games like this -- she could be an extremely sore & sour loser. “Oh, so you’re giving up ‘cause Little Miss Abbott is scared of breaking her winning streak? I see how it is!” Lily laughed, nodding in agreement that a lie down would be good right now, even if she was up to play more games. “You’ve got mad Snap skills, we’ve known that fact for a while, but even tipsy? What’s your secret? A heart full of love? Do you have some felix felicis and some plant that helps you win that I don’t know about? SHARE your secrets with me, Han. Because you might hate sore losers but I hate anti-humanitarians.”

[lifeinpoetry]

I can be feminine in all my rage. I can be girl and woman, and claws with teeth. Watch me burn.

Venetta Octavia, from “Sekhmet, Not Pin-Up Girl,” Prelude to Light (via lifeinpoetry)

[kingsleyshacklebolt]

lily moon ⇢ pre war aesthetic 

bloom yourself; unapologetic, imperfect, bruised, burned, touched.

[aryasrk]

[lilymooning-blog]

lisaturpins‌:

where: Moaning Myrtle’s bathroom when: January 15, 1998, 12:26am who: open

It’d been a long evening of moonshine-making with Seamus, made even longer by the fact that they drank about as much as they made; they’d decided that testing the product was of the utmost importance—they wouldn’t want to put a low quality product on the market, now would they? Lisa had found herself staying behind in Myrtles bathroom, not yet ready to make the trek back to the tower, and knowing that Myrtle was, thankfully, as good a Carrow deterrent as there was in this castle.

Which is why when someone decidedly not a Carrow walked  through the door, Lisa raised the bottle to them in a mock salute, “If you’re here thinking I’m going to share, it’s going to cost you.”

                                   Fuck, fuck, fuck. 

     If Lily had known that Lisa was in this bathroom, one thing was sure, she would’ve not gone in. Her breath caught and for a moment, if you really looked, you could see the amount of unadulterated, unparalleled fear that flashed in her eyes. Falling backwards against the door, she let herself nervously smile in front of Lisa. 

    “I had no fucking clue you were here, Merlin’s balls, you really scared me, Turpin. Nice.”

     The smile was strained and she wanted nothing more than to get the fuck out of there, but she couldn’t. She was trapped. Oh Helga, she was trapped with a Turpin. 

                 ( She’s not like them. She hates them. She is NOT like them, Lily. )

     “And what’ll it cost me? I don’t have any crack cocaine on me, unfortunately. I know you LOVE that stuff.”

[lilymooning-blog]

ofsight‌:

WHEN: 14 january 1998, 7:42pm WHERE: fifth floor corridor WHO: open

Parvati stepped back, admiring her handiwork. The DA’s practice of vandalism was one she always quite enjoyed partaking in, being both an artist and, as of this year, a rebel. She was proud of the way they’d painted the names all over the walls, but in her opinion, it was all in need of just a bit of flair. So she’d taken advantage of everyone being at dinner to bring her painting supplies up to the fifth floor, where there was a stretch of blank wall, and painted a simple yet unmistakable portrait of none other than the missing Chosen One himself, lightning scar shining bright red, with the word HOPE emblazoned above him. Parvati was now cleaning up, quite satisfied with the permanent sticking charm she’d cast on her work, when she was suddenly startled by the sound of footsteps rounding the corner. 

   “Whoever did all of this sure has got talent, major, major talent,” she commented as she walked up to Parvati. Lily was no artist -- not in the typical sense. She could easily decorate a party to the nines, she could do some pretty intricate charm work, but when it came to painting? Drawing? The actual artistry? It wasn’t her forte. But she admired it. The words, the names that had shown up around school were fantastic -- some of which was her doing. The charm work it took to also keep the letters untouched by the Carrow’s wrath? Iconic.  On the nights following when she couldn’t sleep ( which were most ), she had thought of putting her father’s name among the fallen but she started to debate on whether he’d even want his name up there or not. Lily maintained , that if his name ever was, she wanted to be the one to write it. “Helga and Van Gogh’s tits are SHAKING. Especially that lightning scar, wonder who that reminds me of.”

[lilymooning-blog]

brcklehursts‌:

WHEN: 12th january 1997, 7:18pm WHERE: dark arts classroom WHO: closed @lilying

send ☢ for our muses to make a mess.

Heels clicking on the stone, the presence of self was the only sound around. It was a Friday. The castle should have been buzzing with the sound of life - clandestine parties, lovers making out in every corner…and yet…it was all so empty. The absence was deafening. But not so loud that Mandy couldn’t put it squarely out of her mind. Heading towards Ravenclaw tower, she was distracted by the sound of…chaos from down the corridor - right where the Dark Arts classroom was. Half of her wanted to keep going and rush past - fearful of interrupting Alecto. Even more afraid that it wasn’t her…and some DA antic she wanted to keep the hell away from. And yet, when she walked past, she found herself lingering. And frowning at what - and who - she saw. Blinking in disbelief, Mandy shook her head. “What the hell are you doing?

     Well, Mandy asked a good question.

     It was Friday, which meant that Lily would proceed to spend the weekend in a certified blur of people, alcohol, drugs, anything that she could get her hands on and maybe, just maybe she had started a bit early. Lily was not thinking straight as classes had ended that day, having gotten into it with the portrait nearest to the classroom, the rage that ensued meant that Lily had started to vandalize the classroom. It was senseless. Damn the consequences because the Carrows found reasons to torture them for breathing, at least this detention would be for something she was proud of. She hadn’t been completely aware of how loud she was being until she’d heard Mandy’s voice ring out behind her. “I’m....rearranging the room, duh. The energy is just so bad in here, isn’t it? Listen,” spinning on her heel, she finally looked at Mandy, the Ravenclaw was as usual, beautiful beyond belief, looking like a vision in blue. 

     “Have I ever told you how much I’d bang you if you weren’t with Wayne? That is, if you’d be okay with it. I’m just saying, it’s crossed my mind,” Lily said with a little too much urgency before realizing that her charms work had gone a bit awry, hiding under the nearest desk as the balloons in the air filled with glitter started to burst. Loudly.

     “DUCK!”

[lilymooning-blog]

seamusburning‌:

when:  14 January, 1998, 18:00 where:  the owlery who:  open

    seamus had been shivering the entire walk from charms to care of magical creatures.  it was fucking freezing out, and the castle seemed to be doing a shit job at keeping the cold at bay.  maybe because it had bigger threats to contest.  he had just settled on the fact that he would spent the class with his teeth chattering so loudly he wouldn’t even be able to hear hagrid.  it wouldn’t be the first time.  however, the sight of snape stopped him dead in his tracks.  they locked eyes, and seamus’s blood began boiling.  suddenly the cold was the least of his worries.  he spent the entire lesson watching their so-called headmaster, barely able to pull his focus even when hagrid has asked seamus to help demonstrate with the lesson.  just a routine observation, he assured the boy, clearly able to see the all-too-common mix of emotions etched across his face.  seamus wanted to believe him.  

    the moment class let out, though, seamus allowed his feet to carry him far away from hagrid’s hut.  they didn’t stop until he reached the owlery — one of the only places seamus thought he might be alone.  who would be sending letters when they were all being filtered anyway?  seamus let out a scream — frustration, rage, sadness, fear, confusion all combined into one anguished cry.  “i hate it here, i hate it here, i hate it here,” he repeated to himself as he stomped around, stopping only when he saw a body silhouetted in the entrance.  “what the fuck do you want?”  he spat out, unable to contain his embarrassed anger.

     Immediately mocking him, his sour demeanor ( though it didn’t take much to get there, that was for sure ) making a face, she repeated, “what the fuck do you want?” Part of Lily had to laugh, because she couldn’t be irritated with Seamus for being so angry -- hell, she was angry too. Yelling in the owlery wasn’t exactly her style but she made a note to look into it’s cathartic power soon. Rolling her eyes as she lifted the camera slung around her neck, she faked clicking the shutter, before resting it back on her chest. “Came for an owl photoshoot. I thought I could submit the photos to Vogue or Witch Weekly if that shit is even still running, who bloody knows,” she shrugged, her eyes wandering around the owlery, giving Seamus at least some privacy, a few moments to compose himself if he wanted them. “Were you having an ORGASM or ... ? Because I can leave.”