House aesthetics

  • Slytherin: Family crests and ballet lessons, a perfume your grandmother picks for you. Black coffee in Paris at 7 in the morning, champagne in New York in the evening. Cashmere sweaters, turtlenecks and high waisted skirts. Heavy diamonds and chins held high. Upper east side, Monaco, shopping in Brussels. Lying through clenched teeth. Northern lights. Hiding pain and using people. Contradictions. Daisychains. Richard Siken. Glitter socks. Learning French. Louboutins. Traditions and secrets. Green and Silver.
  • Gryffindor: Hands on fire, bandaids and ginger ale. Treehouses and make believe. The kissing of wounds to soothe the pain. Stardust, bruised knees, pinky swears. Sunflowers and David Bowie. Lightning, thunderstorms, tornadoes. Too much energy; too much caffeine. The smell of a bonfire, the crunch of first snow, laughter resonating through crisp winter air. Fingers intertwining and whispered gossip followed by giggles. Supernovae. The roar of a sportscar's engine. Truth or dare. Courage and morals. The knight in rusty armor who forgot his horse at home. Red and gold.
  • Ravenclaw: Kneesocks, Sylvia Plath and the dusty smell of books. Paint drying on fingertips and hair in every colour of the rainbow. Oxford dictionary, the louvre, shadowpuppets. Dancing in the rain, overthinking, posters and empty canvases filling dorm rooms and adorning bedroom walls. The first touch of a paintbrush, forget-me-nots, hunger for knowledge. Metaphors. Fanfiction. Black boots and leather jackets. John Lennon sunglasses. Tartan. Poetry. Blue hair and black lipstick. Creativity and curiosity. Blue and silver.
  • Hufflepuff: Promises and shooting stars. Giggles, goosebumps. Stolen kisses behind the quidditch field. Bumblebees and libraries, fiery hair and squad goals. Shared breakfast, tutoring. Growing. Security. Those friends you can tell everything, and they will never judge. Libraries and open fields. Golden retrievers, the smell of sawdust and hay, horse riding. Roadtrips. Study groups. Ivy League. Scholarships. Humble, soft, friendly. Loyal and smart. Stubborn and accepting. Yellow and black.

daiisycoulson:

support:

Heads up on a little maintenance that’s going on: We’re in the midst of emailing some folks who haven’t logged into Tumblr for over two years, because a lot’s changed in two years and we think they’d be excited to see what’s new. They’ll get a chance to log in again and and pick up right where they left off, or to allow their URL(s) to expire. Even if they don’t respond but return to Tumblr at a later date, all their old content will of course still be hanging out, waiting for them.

For those of you who are looking to snag a particular URL, this is a good time to check back periodically to see if that username is now open. We still can’t manually release any URLs to you —we’ve got to let the process above work its magic. This’ll give people a chance to either get back to their true calling of spending all day on Tumblr, or set their URLs free for others to enjoy.

(via goblinbutch)

davidsduchovny:

Keira Knightley was SEVENTEEN in the first pirates of the caribbean movie and now she’s THIRTY and she looks EXACTLY THE SAME. And by “exactly the same” I mean at seventeen she looked like she was in her mid twenties and possessed beauty and elegance too perfect for this world, like the physical manifestation of the word ethereal, and can anyone actually discern any sign of her aging in the last 13 years? has she honestly ever aged? will she ever? I’d say it’s witchcraft or aliens but I think the most reasonable explanation is that she’s Keira Knightley 

(Source: generalleia, via fireflyca)

storiesandskye:

izzy-lunday:

withlightning:

brutus-is-bae:

storiesandskye:

i will be forever grateful that of all the deaths in Harry Potter, Professor McGonagall was not one of them.

#professor mcgonagall cant die when the reaper comes for her she just stares at them and they apologize and walk away (via)

death: let’s see, who’s next–oh NOOO…. *groans but goes to mcgonagall*
Death: professor, I’m afraid……I’m here to tell you…..
Mcgonagall: *glares over spectacles at death*
Death: that–oh never mind! Happy 189th birthday Minerva. Goodbye

this one wins

(Source: storiesandskies-deactivated, via thepainofthesass)

bitchypansexual:

whenever any of the sense8 characters get themselves into some shit

image

(via adelindschade)