RAVENCLAW: “Normal is an ideal. But it’s not reality. Reality is brutal, it’s beautiful, it’s every shade between black and white, and it’s magical. Yes, magical. Because every now and then, it turns nothing into something.” –Tara Kelly (Harmonic Feedback)

About the Houses

Hufflepuff is tea and sweaters. Hufflepuff is punching someone in the face because they need to shut up, calm down, or get the sense knocked into them. Hufflepuff is spring, seeing winter melting away and basking in the sunlight. Hufflepuff is singing loudly to Journey and Queen. Hufflepuff is having the messiest room and yet knowing exactly where to find everything. Hufflepuff is “there’s no such thing as too much chocolate”. Hufflepuff is one too many glasses of champagne so the world feels like sunshine. Hufflepuff is honestly not giving a damn what anyone else thinks. Hufflepuff is prank wars that spiral out of control. Hufflepuff is getting shit done while everyone else argues. Hufflepuff is refusing to fit into the mold, which results in hufflepunks. Hufflepuff is staying up till three am to talk someone out of depression, out of suicide, out of something stupid, convincing them how amazing and how loved they are. Hufflepuff is loyalty, is true friendship, not the plastic My Little Pony stuff but the true friendship. Hufflepuff is the first ones to get Netflix running at Hogwarts, despite magical interference. Hufflepuff is loneliness, is the intense desire for friendship. Hufflepuff is having to deal with derision and scorn. Hufflepuff is loyalty placed in the wrong ideal, loving the wrong person. Hufflepuff is drowning in emotions that bring panic attacks.

Ravenclaw is winter peace and blizzards. Ravenclaw is the beauty of white snow against evergreens and a baby blue sky. Ravenclaw is the sharpness and cutting edge of a cold breeze, the glint of a metal blade. Ravenclaw is the silence of a library, lost completely in a world of ink and screens and words. Ravenclaw is a glass of wine and an old friend. Ravenclaw is martial arts and street smart. Ravenclaw is always asking why. Ravenclaw is pages filled with writing and doodles and diagrams. Ravenclaw is telling dirty jokes in code so no one can tell why you’re laughing so hard you can’t breathe, and the teacher can’t read the notes you were passing in class. Ravenclaw is failing a class because you couldn’t be bothered to read or do homework, it was too boring and you had other things. Ravenclaw is challenging the status-quo and saying “there’s always another option”. Ravenclaw is citrus and a stash of junk food that you always seem to eat right away. Ravenclaw is learning a new language because you want to. Ravenclaw is an innocent face that can hide the dirtiest mind. Ravenclaw is a pile of books that you’ll read - you will, you promise - one day. Ravenclaw is looking up and saying “hell, when did it get to be three thirty AM”, and you have classes in five hours but decide that staying up another half hour won’t hurt. Ravenclaw is love that happens slowly, like creeping ivy, till one day you wake up and realize it’s ensnared you tightly and you wouldn’t have it any other way. Ravenclaw is addiction, to coffee, to drugs, to sweets, anything to get that clarity and that swooping feeling. Ravenclaw is coldness, is locking away resentment to fester, is “revenge is a dish best served cold”. Ravenclaw is shutting up and never ever asking for help, because you’re smart enough, capable enough to handle it. Because you have to.

Gryffindor is summer, cloudless blue skies and endless green fields. Gryffindor is adrenaline highs and truth or dare. Gryffindor is bright red lipstick and cologne that makes heads turn. Gryffindor is parties that go all night. Gryffindor is fireworks exploding in the sky. Gryffindor is standing up to anyone, friend, foe, or stranger, to tell them they’re wrong. Gryffindor is throwing your friend a beer and jumping on their lap to take a nap. Gryffindor is the love of horror games. Gryffindor is steak and burgers, Gryffindor is spicy curry. Gryffindor is taking the risk, making the leap, no matter the odds. Gryffindor is raising your hand in class. Gryffindor is passionate love, whether it be romantic, platonic, or otherwise, that sees no difference in a hand picked wildflower and a diamond necklace as long as it makes the recipient happy. Gryffindor is defending, even if it’s defending someone you hate against someone you love, because Gryffindor stands up for what is right. Gryffindor is recklessness, the uncontrollable emotion, the carelessness with laws and rules. Gryffindor is choosing the ‘morally correct’ option even if it means more are hurt. Gryffindor is solving things brashly, physically, and only making everything worse.

Slytherin is fall evenings, the air crisp but not cold, the setting sun revealing autumn beauty before darkening to show a million billion stars in the indigo inky sky. Slytherin is when the air smells like cloves and cinnamon and smoke from the crackling bonfire. Slytherin is apple pie with vanilla ice cream. Slytherin is a glass of golden scotch. Slytherin is finding comfort in jeans and a leather jacket, dying your hair and tattoos that are like artwork. Slytherin is pride in your heritage, in what it took to get you here. Slytherin is the warm blossom of accomplishment in your chest. Slytherin is tall boots and long scarves. Slytherin is the person you’d trust with anything and everything, the one you love above all else, the one you’d kill for. Slytherin is not being afraid of the dark, but remembering that night heals. Slytherin is musky forests and the steady soothing rainfall. Slytherin is sarcasm and wit. Slytherin is determination in the face of fear. Slytherin is talking your way out of situations to keep those you love safe. Slytherin is the love that shows itself quietly from day to day, with quiet brushes and unsaid favors, but that rears up in fury to defend if necessary. Slytherin is the dark side, the morally ambiguous, the race to the finish line for whatever it is you desire, shoving others aside because you have to. Slytherin is locking yourself in a shadowed corner and curling up, because it’s too much… it’s too much… and wiping the tears and standing anyway, head held high because you can’t stop now, and you can’t show weakness.

Hufflepuffs are not weak. Ravenclaws are not heartless. Gryffindors are not arrogant. Slytherins are not evil.

Break Stereotypes. Be Open-Minded.

Everyone’s situation is different though..

Sirius Black Imagine: “Smoking”

Heyy, could you write a young!sirius black imagine when sirius is smoking around y/n and she wants to try it and he doesnt want her to pick his bad habits and its all cute and fluffy yk?:)) i real hope you understood something and sorry for any grammar mistakes and you do a pretty good job so keep going:)

Requested by anon

 Notes: smoking, duh!

Sirius Black, your crush, was smoking. You had always thought he looked even more attractive when he smoked.

“Hey!” you greeted him.

He gave you a nod and kept smoking.

“Can I try it?” you wondered, making a move with your head to indicate the cigarette so that he would get a hint of what you meant. You had thought that maybe, if he saw you smoking, he’d notice you. It was your way of getting his attention.

“No” he replied in a cutting tone.

Disappointed, you questioned: “Why not?”

“Because I don’t want you to pick up my bad habits…” he said as if it was the most natural thing in the world.

“Well, if it’s such a bad habit why do you keep smoking?”

Laughing bitterly, he answered: “I’m in too deep, y/n… I don’t see why you are suddenly so interested in it, anyway.”

Crossing your arms, you insisted: “I don’t care if it’s a bad habit, Sirius. I want to try it.”

“No.”

“But-“

“I said no, y/n.”

Indignantly, you retorted: “You don’t tell me what to do, Sirius. I’m free to choose, and I choose to smoke.”

He simply raised an eyebrow and ignored you. Groaning in frustration, you yelled: “Why do you care whether I pick up a bad habit or not anyway?”

He smirked mischievously at you, making you feel butterflies in your stomach. He had never looked at you the way he was doing now and you felt the heat beginning to rise to your cheeks.

“I’d say that’s my job, considering I like you…”

You narrowed your eyes. Like? What did he mean?

“Sure… If you liked me, you would be a good friend and let me try it” you challenged him.

“Perhaps… But I don’t want us to be friends…”

Your breath hitched. Was he implying what you thought he was implying? Before your brain could register what was happening, his lips were pressed against yours. You were so shocked that you didn’t dare to move. He pulled away a few seconds later and teased: “You know, y/n? You look absolutely adorable when you blush… In fact, you look so adorable that I am going to kiss you again… I hope you collaborate now, though.”

You were ready this time: you kissed him back with all your soul. When you parted, both of you were panting.

“I don’t want you to pick my nasty habits because I love you…”

“It might be a nasty habit, but you sure look sexy when you smoke…” you flirted.

He chuckled and replied: “Luckily, you don’t need a cigarette to look sexy, y/n…”

Why is the ambition of Slytherins always translated as hunger for power?

What if my ambition is to look super cute today? What if it’s to write a book? What if it’s to someday own ten cats? What if I just wanna see how much ice-cream I can eat in twenty-minutes?

#andromeda to ted at some point probably

Potions class

romione + relationship development (◡‿◡✿) [insp.]