“Dress How You Want To Be Addressed.” ...so Can I Now Dress Like A Person Who Lives In A Large Mansion

and i as well, my love, hold the same

A quick thing on Slytherins

Slytherins are the most misunderstood house.  And some of us like it that way, but I think that we are the most misunderstood house because we are the most diverse house.  

Ambition.  That is our main trait, but what makes us so different from other members of our own house is what are we ambitious for and towards.  Draco was ambitious to be like his family and earn his place.  Slughorn was ambitious into building a career and carefully curated circle of members beneficial to him.  Snape was ambitious for Lily.  We are all ambitious for something, but the question is what.

We have so many different divisions within our house, so i’m going to give a quick breakdown.  The stereotypical ‘evil’ (ambitious for wanting a place), the studious (ambitious for their best education), the artists (Ambitious for leaving their mark), and then there are the ones that are ambitious for who knows what, the ones you would never expect to be in Slytherin.  But, sometimes they are the most “slytherin” out of all of us.

What I mean to say is, that we are not the evil house.  When a Slytherin tells someone “Hey i’m a slytherin”  Oftentimes the first reaction is ‘Wow, I don’t picture you as dark and evil.”

So to all the “not-slytherins” in the slytherin house, just because you don’t have plans of world domination does not make you any less slytherin than the rest of us.

Thanks.

Watercolor painting, trying to do a Hades and Persephone type thing.  Took me about an hour and a half, and I had a lot of fun doing it :)

slytherin culture is constantly being on the verge of either snapping a pencil in half because you can’t anymore or napping because you can’t anymore

Some days I feel so alone

In a world with so far to roam

With every sense yearning

And every way turning

I’ll eventually find my way home

things I’ve said to my students

I teach little kids piano and these are some of the things I tell them and they seem to think I’m funny

“woah there buddy”

“be expressive, not aggressive”

“play staccato like you would play hot potato”

“yikes”

student: “why does posture matter?” me: “look at my hands when I’m playing with flat fingers. doesn’t that look weird? it looks kind of disturbing. don’t have flat fingers.” student: "you’re right”

“no no no don’t do that you’ll break your hand”

me: “what chord is this?” student: “g major. but can we name it carlos?” me: “…I don’t see why not”

“the man on my screensaver is dmitri shostakovich and you will learn to love his music, too”

“yeah this guy wrote angry music”

“we’re going to play this excruciatingly slowly. suffering is how we make progress”

me: “so a harp is basically just a naked piano.” my student: “so, you could say that inside a piano are the piano’s…organs.”

*miscellaneous sound effects and screeches*

*badly singing along as they play*

“composers were crazy. don’t ever let anyone tell you that mozart was sophisticated because he told some very bad jokes.”

me: “what interval is that?” student: “EL DIABLO”

“it’s going to sound bad, but that means you’re playing it right”

“please don’t play the piano with your elbows. you can try that at home”

“so the music says that it should be an f sharp but you played it as an f natural and I kind of liked that so we’re keeping it”

”if you can play this well I’ll accompany you with my plastic saxophone”

It was a hit and run type thing, her apartment had been broken into.  But, as criminals go, once you become one the police don’t particularly like to help.  Alara gave a broken, raspy cough.  Panicking would do her no good now.  She wasn’t afraid of death, almost welcoming it.  But she didn’t want to leave him alone to clean up her mess.

“What kinda problem exactly?”  He sat up, swinging his legs off of the bed and rubbing the bridge of his nose.  Normally he wouldn’t be quite so concerned about why she was calling at whatever godforsaken hour this was, but this time... this time something was different.

Her breathing grew shallower, and she bit her lip trying to hold back a whine of pain before completely breaking down in sobs, curling around herself.  She pulled her hand away from her stomach and watched the drops of blood fall off of her fingers onto the floor.

“Alara?”  His voice was sharp, all of the warning lights going off at once.  “Alara what’s going on?”  He flicked the light on, wincing at the brightness as he began the search for his jacket. 

“Something happened...”

“I know that already.”  He growled.  “So help me tell me what’s wrong.”

“Someone broke into my apartment.”

He stopped dead in his tracks for one split second, before shaking himself out of it.  She lived only a mile or two away, it would be alright.  

“Are you hurt?”  He asked carefully.

She hesitated in her answer.

“Y-you’re... Evan you’re not going to make it in time.”  Her voice was soft, soothing.  As if it would help.  

Writing Prompt #124

A sat crying, finger hovering shakily over the call button. B would be asleep, and they didn’t want to wake them- they were a bad enough morning person as it was. But they needed help, and desperately. They didn’t think they had much time left.

The phone rang for a while, the tone echoing throughout the stone walls of the room they were in, before B’s croaky voice answered.

“What sorta time do you call this?”

“Hey, B…” A said, their voice small, “I’m sorry to wake you up… I wouldn’t call if it wasn’t important…”

“It’s… it’s okay,” B replied groggily, “what’s up?”

“I have a slight problem…” said A, “I’m uh… in a little bit of trouble-”

“Oh…? That doesn’t sound good.”

“No…” A sobbed, looking down at the blood beginning to seep through their shirt. “It’s really not.”

welp, I am now over a month into quarantine.  I have not seen any person face-to-face that is not my family for over five weeks.  Chances are that quarantine will be extended anyways.  my motivation to do literally anything has plummeted, until i end up lying on the floor knowing that i should be doing something productive, but not having enough self control to make myself actually do the thing.  sigh.

INFJ / Math

Reblog with your MBTI and worst subject

Either worst or least favourite

I have a theory I want to test

INTJ / English