Shout Out To All The Kids Who Are Really Good At Acting And Theater Because They’re So Used To Changing

Victoria Priessnitz

Classic Book Recommendations For Each Hogwarts House

Gryffindor

The Count of Monte Cristo by Alexandre Dumas

Henry V by William Shakespeare

Beowulf

War and Peace by Leo Tolstoy

Les Miserables by Victor Hugo

Profiles in Courage by John F. Kennedy

The Diary of a Young Girl by Anne Frank

Histories by Herodatus

Democracy in America by Alexis de Tocqueville

Hufflepuff

East of Eden by John Stenbeck

Othello by William Shakespeare

To Kill a Mockingbird by Harper Lee

Twelfth Night by William Shakespeare

Siddhartha by Hermann Hesse

Love In the Time of Cholera by Gabriel Garcia Marquez

White Fang by Jack London

The Great Gatsby by F. Scott Fitzgerald

The Hunchback of Notre Dame by Victor Hugo

A Tree Grows in Brooklyn by Betty Smith

Ravenclaw

Farenheit 451 by Ray Bradbury

The Divine Comedy by Dante Alighieri

The Brothers Karamazov by Fyodor Dostoyevsky

The Brief, Wondrous Life of Oscar Wao by Junot Diaz

Animal Farm by George Orwell

Frankenstein by Mary Shelley

The Odyssey by Homer

Middlemarch by George Eliot

Catch-22 by Joseph Heller

Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland by Lewis Carroll

Slytherin

The Art of War by Sun Tzu

All the King’s Men by Robert Penn Warren

Hamlet by William Shakespeare

The Picture of Dorian Gray by Oscar Wilde

The Autumn of the Patriarch by Gabriel Garcia Marquez

The Prince by Niccolo Machiavelli

Brave New World by Aldous Huxley

A Clockwork Orange by Anthony Burgess

Macbeth by William Shakespeare

Dracula by Bram Stoker

She watches over us and the night, her soft purrs causing the stars stuck in her fur to ripple and our mossy forests to sway.  

Concept: You walk outside one night and notice that there are two full moons. A few hours go by and they don’t seem to move.

You stare up at them.

They blink.

This or that!

Ok.

Poetry

Writing

Red

Coffee

Mascara

Percy

Thunderstorm

Leather

Autumn

Languages

Lead

Friendship

Chaotic

1820′s

Camilla

This or that. Dark academia edition.

Poetry or prose? Writing or reading? Black or red? Wine or coffee? Lipstick or mascara? Mary or Percy? Rain or thunderstorm? Silk or leather? Winter or autumn? Languages or literature? Lead or be lead? Love or friendship? Chaotic or lawful? 1820s or 1920s? Charles or Camilla?

Hi!  So, I’ve been homeschooled my entire life, and am starting at a private school in a week.  I feel extraordinarily over my head, but excited.  Is there anything I need to know about what to expect or anything that I just... wouldn’t think of in the first place.

Tell me, what do I need to know to thrive?

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.

T O A D B U N S

part of me wants to become a pianist, elegant and poised wearing long light pink skirts on a daily basis, and kitten heels, and can perfect my craft for hours on end. part of me wants to become an author who can spin stories from lost things, and snuggle up with my notebooks and tea and sweaters and just dream of worlds that i wasnt meant to live in but i could share.  part of me wants to become a rebel and wear black leather jackets while reading angsty poetry, chop my hair short and fight for what matters to me, the kind of person who doesn’t care what others think of them as long as a point has been made.  So.  I don’t know what I want to do.  But whatever I do, I can assure you that I will not be boring.

Past writing from other account

The lost things

      Amirah growled, digging through her leather satchel.  “Third time this week…”  She muttered angrily to herself.  “It cannot be gone!”  Her skirts were starting to get muddy from her hands being occupied elsewhere, but she could care less.  

     First her fan, then her favorite cloak, and now, the cherry on top of the cake,  her dance slippers.  Gone.  Vanished.  She closed the clasp on her satchel and swung it back over her shoulder, turning on her heel and walking back down the muddy streets towards home.

     “Mother won’t be happy…” She groaned at herself.  Mother was never happy, at least not with her.  With seven younger siblings, all of the maternal joy was gifted lavishly on them.  But Amirah, being the oldest, well, she was supposed to pull her own weight.

Keep reading

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.”