ALL IN BLOOM @luncslovegood - Tumblr Blog

turtlekpopp:

#i can sabotage me by myself ( face )#all of my heroes fading ( aesthetics )#the outfit feels v luna

offireandseeds

people waiting for him, more eyes, impatiently looking, neville shivers at the image, glad that it had only been a vague interest that had drawn attention as he had entered. he’s had quite enough attention for a lifetime, and there would be plenty of reasons for people to be looking at the lot of them throughout the rest of the day.

‘ that sounds like the definition of too horrible, ’ he replies, smile dancing on his lips, crossing his legs under himself as mcgonagall stands. there’s no need for anything to draw attention, her presence more than enough (and neville shivers again in the memory of a hem hem from pink personified). he claps lightly with everyone once the headmaster is done, then drags a slice of toast towards himself. ‘ still doesn’t feel quite real does it? school’s going to actually start again soon. and us as adults. ’

she supposes she doesn’t really mind the attention. as much as her drifting tended to get her to places relatively on time, there was no shortage of days where she’d show up perhaps far too late. not that she particularly liked people looking at her or prodding at her with their words, but in this case it was just a momentary blip. eyes looking at her, but not seeing her, simply interested for a fleeting second then she was back to her lonesome.

but luna knows that neville is the opposite, so she offers a smile back and bumps her shoulder to his when the speech ends. “adults,” she repeats, letting the word settle in her thoughts. she supposes they’ve been adults for awhile now, at least in any constructed measure. but the word still feels strange. “it’s quite exciting,” she agrees a beat later, picking a pancake to place on her plate. “it does feel different, even if it isn’t on the surface for now.” she takes a bite before continuing casually. “how do you feel about it?”

#ft. neville #( event 001 )

lionhcrtd

he raises a curious brow at her words, his gaze shifting back to the crowd in the courtyard. admittedly, he hadn’t ever thought about it like that — but he sees it now. everyone always seemed to be so preoccupied with their own lives and stories that they impatiently waited for everyone else’s to be over, so that they could top them. blaise, as privileged a live as he’d lived, had never cared to boast about his many homes around the world, his grandeur vacations, his large sum of gold in the vault his mother had saved for him all his life — do not say i never did anything for you, she’d told him the first time he saw the vault at gringotts, i would never leave my son with nothing.

but all of that — all the travel stories, the magical encounters — he’d always liked the idea that they were his own, and that he didn’t have to share them. wasn’t that the beauty of memories, anyway? they could live inside your head, just the way you remember them, or how you wanted to remember them, and nobody could tell you otherwise. repeat the stories out loud, and they get lost in translation, they get questioned, they get fuzzy — blaise had always much preferred listening. he supposed he might have had that in common with luna. “you’re right,” he finally says, letting out a small laugh, one short, swift exhale through the nose, more like, as he nods his head in agreement. “they’re shit at listening,” his mother would curse him for speaking that way. he glances down at the empty space next to luna, eyes traveling up to meet their gaze. “may i?” he asks, returning to his usual, soft spoken, polite tone of voice he’d been groomed to use in events like these.

“ah,” he crinkles his nose, shaking his head, “not really. not quite. it takes all my will power not to roll my eyes at half of these people,” he admits. even draco — though perhaps that’s who he wants to roll his eyes at the most — the very things blaise had once fawned over now made his fingers twitch with annoyance. the smug looks, the crinkles by his eyes when he laughed at something that was probably unfunny, the way he never missed a beat, never missed a punch line, carried on like nothing was wrong when, in fact, everything felt wrong. “i’d usually suggest to get out of here — but i reckon they’d notice if we were missing, considering the part is for us, technically.”

··· ···· ···· ···· ·

what was that old muggle saying she’d seen? empty vessels make the most noise? that seems to apply to many of the people she’d come across in the past couple of hours. she doesn’t have much to share to them either way - one mention of the quibbler already had so many of them upturn their noses in thinly-veiled disgust. she doesn’t think they’d be interested in her discussions of indonesian muggle mythology either.

blaise though, they know, listens. that’s what they’ve seen him do, even far long even before they had become friends. it’s what he’s doing now, what’s he’s so acutely done because of how he’s noticed them perched on this windowsill. what more, how he agrees to the sentiment makes luna’s smile grow even more. “of course,” they say after a beat, scuttling to the side slightly as if to make some more room for him. their eyes stay on blaise as he continues, finally finding some sort of focus again, and they nod.

“your willpower must be pretty strong regardless.” the statement comes without hesitation, like she’s had that rehearsed or she knew what he was going to say. “i just... leave. i don’t think they take kindly to that.” there’s an almost humor to her voice, somewhere hidden beneath all the clouds and distance. she can understand why her father detached himself from all this when he could. there was some semblance of this, she remembers, in him when she was younger. well-spoken, easy fake smiles. but there’s nothing close to that in her father today, locked in his room, relentless in his writing.

she finally turns away to the people milling around if only to confirm - all the attention was to themselves or to the refreshments.“i think we can get away with staying here for awhile. nobody looks here.” hidden in plain sight, almost. or a blind spot in the organized chaos of the party. “i hope my charm's still working on your tie.” she says immediately when she turns back to blaise and her gaze drifts down to his tie. luna reaches out carefully with one hand to smooth her fingers over the fabric, seemingly still crease-less. “i was trying to have a go at it lasting for more than an hour or two,”

#ft. blaise #( event 001 )

pnsyprkn

time: 9:41am location: the great hall status: @luncslovegood

the great hall is so empty.

pansy remembers coming back for eighth year, when the shock had been bigger. the slytherin table half-empty. the castle full of lost souls. she listens to the chattering of her friends and the faculty, sips at her pumpkin juice. their voices echo, and pansy is once again brought back to that night, as the sorting hat sang a tragedy. in the echoing pansy hears the children crying because they were sorted in slytherin. the looks they would get, draped in green and silver. the way her breath would catch at her throat, locking her words inside her mouth, no key.

“professor hicks released you from their intellectual claws, have they?” pansy asks, as luna approaches her. sometimes, it is unbearable to look luna in the eye. there is four years of unspoken history in their gaze, and it makes pansy shudder to the core. it is cowardly of her, to run from a moment of vulnerability. but it’s the only way she knows. she isn’t known for her bravery.

she pours luna a glass of pumpkin juice, watching from the hufflepuff table, as professors devarajah and bartholomew start arguing about whatever it is they do. “i am under the impression that there is some unresolved tension between those two,” she says, as she offers the glass to luna from where she’s sitting. she thinks of neville’s guilty shoulders, the pinkish tint on their skin. she asks, with a raised eyebrow, and the signature aloof tone: “i heard ginny talking about getting ready with you and blaise. will supervision be necessary?”

luncslovegood

“oh- i just excused myself, really,” she responds with a shrug of her shoulders, smile flighty and dreamy. hicks themselves was getting used to luna’s habits after the whole month - they weren’t as perplexed anymore. once they noticed her eyes land on pansy tucked away by herself, the conversation fell away from her lips and they didn’t question when she stopped the conversation and floated away. they’d have time for these conversations later, easily.

luna thinks it’s much better to spend this time with friends. she slips into the seat next to pansy and follows her gaze to the going-ons of the devarajah and bartholomew. “curious, don’t you think?” their eyebrows raise ever so slightly, putting together thoughts. “belligerent tension like that usually comes to amusing results.” it’s nothing unlike somethings they’ve seen before - they were in hogwarts, after all. if it isn’t the students, then they suppose the professors take up the roles.

there’s a soft, airy ‘thank you’ from her before she pulls the glass of pumpkin juice to themselves. the barely there smile ticks up a notch when pansy speaks again. "supervision would be extreme for something like getting ready.” luna takes a sip of the juice. “but having your company would be nice.” she looks to pansy with a tilt of her head. “i’m sure blaise and ginny feel the same.”

#ft. pansy #( event 001 )#pnsyprkn

unevenlitany

date: 29 august, 2002 (8:45pm) location: middle yard status: closed to @luncslovegood·

draco’s face is certifiably pleasant. his enchanted mirror has always said so, as has his mother, and he has eyes of his own to confirm their (albeit, obligatory) flattery. he was a lovely decoration between the pillars that were his parents, indeed. draco on liquor, however, is another story. his cheeks flush a scarlet red, and the black of his pupils swallow the gray, and his fingers start carding through his hair with abandon, mussing it up in a way that makes a mockery of the sleekeazy's he’d coated it in earlier, transforming the styled dishevelment into a bird’s nest. stuff him in maroon robes to boot, he’s practically a jester primed for the guests’ entertainment.

and as jester’s do, he charms; most of all, the angel on his arm.

they all shuffle into place for the waltz, some pairs half awkward, some half loose from inebriation. though, quite frankly, he’s in his element, his gilded upbringing good for something other than his fine taste for caviar and daddy issues, and luna is too perfect of a partner for there to be any fault in their pairing. he keeps his eyes anchored on hers as the crowd settles for the show, but he wishes to swing his gaze to neville for just a moment, to gauge their thinking as they stand toe to toe with ginny, to hide a kiss in the weight of his stare.

the chords of the song begin, the familiar melody beckoning rose-colored memories from his childhood, and his jaw relaxes, allowing the tune to compel his movements without any directions from his distracted mind.

the day had him tense, the unpleasant fear of suddenly being dropped from the programme all the more palpable with (strangers) guests trampling upon the grounds with faux proprietorship. one too-close look his way and they’ll remember he’s the malfoy boy, child death eater and lucius malfoy’s son, the latter surely too damning to ignore. they’ll flag this oversight to mcgonagall and she too will see clearly through the fog, giving him the boot with little remorse.

of course, he’s being ridiculous ⏤ he always is, he knows, it’s the consequence of being draco malfoy ⏤ which is why he hasn’t voiced his discomfort, in some far fetched bid to soften his edges and make himself seem worthy of his position amongst the others, the insecurity instinctive, if stilted, after everything. events like these were what he was forged for anyway, sculpted by his father’s iron disposition and his mother’s lengthy lessons in conduct. as his birth right proclaims, the spotlight is his to steal, and while he certainly has the practice to spend his night kissing the backsides of their esteemed (and boring) guests, he doesn’t have the patience for it, not when luna is lighting the room with their smile, twirling in his arms. he’s reformed, not a saint.

the short waltz ends without accident (his eyes strayed as they orbited around the dance floor, catching easily on neville thanks to the garish (blazing) weasley mane, though blaise is on the edge of his vision too, memories of the yule ball alive in the space between them) but he keeps luna’s hand in his, clasped with a gentleness reserved for them.

“join me for another?”

there’s something about the formality of this all that makes luna hesitant. she’s not particularly well-versed in this, unsurprisingly. it’s strange to see people’s eyes on her - expectations and assumptions being the driving force beneath the pleasant smiles. she wonders if they’d treat her any ways different if it weren’t for the occasion. (she could see the flickers of distaste from some of them when they tried to talk to her some time ago, in the hall.) and she feels it even more so as she falls in step to dance, having had only learned how to do a waltz dance within the last month.

they’re lucky they have draco leading if anything, he’s a lot smoother on his feet, making it seem like they’ve done this before. it’s not something they particularly enjoy, but they still smile gently from the experience. all the while trying not to stray away from completing the steps between wanting to go barefoot and wanting to look at neville and ginny (it was hard not to sneak the glances when draco did). at the very least, it did feel like they were floating for a few seconds, when they found the right steps caught the perfect timing.

“are you asking out of obligation, draco?” luna asks with a gentle laugh, looking down at her feet then back at him, “or has the liquor gotten to you already?” she keeps her hand in his though as she shakes her head. “the performance of it all is strange, but if you’d like to go again i wouldn’t mind.”

#ft. draco #unevenlitany #( event 001 )

dailywizardwheezes

#if teardrops could be bottled ( isms )#i'm sorry i lov her #and we go and stay ( golden trio )

lionhcrtd

closed starter for @luncslovegood· time: 9:30 pm location: the middle courtyard

blaise knows how to network, he’s been groomed and primed for events exactly like this his entire life, but he didn’t find it any less exhausting. the forced smiles and contrived conversations, feigning interest as he listened to another apprentice tell an obviously fictitious story of their travels. his empty champagne flute was as good enough a reason as any to excuse himself, quietly making his way to the edge of the courtyard, hoping to slip from the crowd unnoticed until he realized he wasn’t alone.

he curses under his breath, immediately searching for an excused until he’d realized who he was, a small breath of relief escaping past his lips as he recognized the figure as luna lovegood. “oh, it’s only you,” a hint of a smile tugged at the corners of his lips, just enough to show his relief. “needed a break as well, i presume?” he asks, glancing toward the middle of the courtyard where everybody was still gathered. some people loved it — the twinkling lights, the soft music, the laughter, the stories, mingling with those you might never have spoken to in any other setting. blaise resented the fraudulence of it all — as if he was always his authentic self. the irony was not lost on him.

luna supposes things could be worse. where people would usually throw snickers her way, there seemed to be some sort of semblance of respect for her between the self-importance and sometimes empty discussions. of course, lots of them still eyed her choice of clothing, but that was one of the easiest things she’s learned to ignore after all these years. given, she did have a handful of stimulating conversation (including one from a lad who was a genuine fan of the quibbler) but everything else was so bland. so eventually, like she did best, luna drifted away.

they were sat on the ledge, tucked in the corner of the courtyard - balanced precariously as their thoughts drifted. to which were reeled in quickly when she saw blaise slip into the spot near her. “blaise.” luna acknowledges him with a gentle tilt of their head, voice just as soft, expression coming back to show some sort of focus. “i suppose i do,” she replies in regard to his question, tucking blonde hair behind her ear, “so many of them are horrible at listening.” they were so preoccupied with their own importance, she couldn’t help but tune out. she’s being honest, at the very least, when she decides to not continue a conversation. better than to pretend as if she wanted to be there. “you do seem to be much better at this.” the way she throws the observation seems careless, yet it’s anything but. it’s the same kind of skill that pansy and draco have too.

#ft. blaise #lionhcrtd #( event 001 )

/ @gincvra , 30/08/2002 , 12:43am , the apprentice common room

there’s a certain sort of excitement luna’s feeling right now. partly encouraged by the sips of firewhiskey she took, and also by completing an exciting exploding snap tourney - it’s ultimately wholly stemming from the fact that with the past month that flew by, she’d be starting a new part of her life. she watches the room for awhile, letting the buzz in her chest guide her to drift around, only ever showing in the way her face is lighting up in a different way. just a little less distant in her calm exterior.

drifting for a small amount of time quickly drops her off to watch the quickdraw, where very quickly, she can tell that ginny is winning (and quite easily too). she looks on for some time, mostly in awe of her friend - jinxes and hexes come as naturally as other charms do to her, but they’re not really her thing. just as she’s done with her last game, they flit on over to the redhead. “it’s wonder why people keep challenging you,” she states with an almost amused tone, the smile on her face growing a tad, “the one’s asking for rematches sound worryingly masochistic.”

#gincvra #ft. ginny #( event 001 )

offireandseeds

e : the welcome party / t : 9am & breakfast / l : the great hall / p : @luncslovegood

there’s going to be a speech and he’s going to be late. he’d gotten up ( too early, if anything ), but had decided that the perfect option would be to go read in the weatherless garden and lose track of time.

it’s nearly nine, so he trips over his own feet as he stumbles out the door, careens into the great hall and smiles sheepishly as he settles into his own seat. it had been a month at hogwarts, so the uncertain nervous energy from that first meal had long since passed, faculty talking to them as something more akin to equals ( something which still didn’t fail to amaze neville ), but there’s still an anticipation in the air, that both rises and fades as mcgonagall says her short speech, then sits back down.

‘ glad i made it in time, ‘ neville whispers over to luna, before smiling a morning at everyone around the table.

it’s not that luna is particularly a stickler for being on time. everything’s a little looser - she drifts around a little before anything happens and as long as she gets there while everyone else seems to be as well, she’s set. she follows the professors and her friends as they walk toward where they need to be, and has set herself down just as everyone does (maybe a little more relaxed, if anything). she wonders briefly where neville is, eyeing the empty spot next to her, but it doesn’t take long until he arrives.

“mcgonagell wouldn’t have started without you,” she says in lieu of a greeting, her lips quirking into a tiny smile, stating simple fact. it’s their day after all. the six of them together, starting this journey. they reach out to brush off neville’s sleeve where there’s a bit of dirt. “being a little tardy wouldn’t be too horrible.” it’s less of a suggestion and more of an observation, one they hope would relieve some of his worries on potential future tardiness. “though then i suppose everyone waiting for you would be another matter to consider...”

#ft. neville #( event 001 )#offireandseeds

all in bloom ( a luna lovegood playlist ) - i can try but sometimes that is not enough (link)

only if for a night - florence + the machine / knees - iu / comfort crowd - conan gray / painkiller - beach bunny / let me in - zee avi / letting go - day6 / dark green water - great grandpa / regulars - allie x / ship to wreck - florence + the machine / saw you in a dream - the japanese house / maybe it’s not our fault - yerin baek / (everything is) debatable - hellogoodbye

#maybe i don't want heaven ( music )#june gloom in my room ( edits )

pnsyprkn

@luncslovegood said: ♫

— ♫ for a band au

they almost miss their flight. luna’s looking at strange perfumery and pansy’s browsing combat boots so they lose track of time. they’ve been traveling just the two of them for ages that they forget that sometimes, they need simple reminders like– shit, pansy’s saying, our flight is in ten minutes. you wouldn’t expect schiphol airport to be big enough to make them into an airport chase scene, but they’re out of breath when they reach their gate.

their tour started back in good old scotland, to cover the entire island – then to france, belgium, and netherlands. in an hour and a half, they will reach berlin, and go straight to the concert hall. the silence comes easy to them, in planes. luna shuts their eyes and listens to podcasts and pansy browses through magazines she’s collected at airports, learning one language after the other.

they’ve gotten much bigger in the last year – from a small, self-releasing indie-electronic duo to being featured in official spotify playlists, record deals from three different countries, and a full european tour. they still don’t have a manager, not really –your girlfriend doesn’t count, luna says, she’s your best friend, too! pansy argues– and they do most of their booking and merchandise on their own.

yet, as pansy approaches her electronic keyboard in the purple-blue light of the hall, as the crowd starts clapping and shouting their names, as luna says, gute nacht, berlin in that whispery, sultry tone she does sometimes, and pansy follows with, we’re lunar eclipse, it feels bigger than the combination of them two.

before she starts singing, luna looks at pansy, winks, and the music overtakes them.

#help plant our seeds ( pansy )#if i sleep upon your knees ( featuring )#uwu this is so cute i loveee