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UQuiz: Which Noble House of Black cousin are you? 

All five of them are iconic. There are no bad answers. Get assigned a character and perhaps a few supportive words <3

#andromeda beloved 🥰 #marauders quiz

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🖍inst: lalunexa

#bellatrix black #bellatrix lestrange #narcissa black #narcissa malfoy #andromeda black #andromeda tonks

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⚜️The dark green house ⚜️

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-*.• ENTJ / 1w2 / ARIES / Slytherin •.*-

#slytherin #moodboard #hp moodboard

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I want to paint Sirius’ nails so bad and pull on his hair like it’s my job. You have no idea babe

okay so I don't know if this was a request but I made it one im sorry 😭 just a quiet night in with your boy <3

"Stay still," you whisper, nervous as your boyfriend's warm hand moves over your thigh. "Please."

"'M sorry, baby," Sirius says. He seems genuinely apologetic, words chased by cigarette smoke as he exhales, pushing a cloud of white out the corner of his mouth and away from your face. 

"I don't want to mess up." 

"It's okay," he says easily. 

You're not so sure, a perfectionist even in the little things. Your hands tremble minutely, your concentration immense as you paint his freshly filed nails. You like doing his nails, like taking care of him, and especially like the bright colours he favours. You take his thumb into your hand, blotting a dark cherry purple over the smooth surface of his nail slowly. 

One coat, then two. 

"You want…." he offers the cigarette to you. 

"It'll make my hands shake," you murmur. 

"They're already shaking." 

You shift your head, hair falling in your face. Sirius holds his cig between his lips and uses his free hand to move it from your eyes carefully. 

"Thanks." 

He hums around the last of his cig and then crushes the butt in the ashtray. You're sitting on the floor where he sits on the sofa, the coffee table in front of you covered in items from your small nail kit. You're twisted to face him and your sides ache with it. 

"Other hand?" you ask.

He obliges quickly. You know he hates this part where his nails are wet and so his hands are indisposed. Especially in this position. His hands twitch, coveting your face or your hair or your arms, you know. 

You try to be a little faster the second time around and end up taking double. You make a small mistake and frown deeply, quick to dip a cotton bud in remover and dab at his skin. It turns to a mess of stubborn colour. 

"Oh, no." 

"It's okay. You got it, take your time." 

He comes to regret this as time stretches on, itching for something to do. You finally finish painting and shift up onto your knees. He looks like he might help you up and then annoyed when he can't, so you indulge him and set yourself over his spread legs, calves on either side of his thigh, flushing with heat all the while. 

His smile is reward enough, lazy and breezy-happy. 

"Hi," he says. 

"Hi," you return. 

"Forgive me for not grabbing you." 

You wriggle on his leg. "No." 

He opens his arms wide so that you can't smudge the polish and you take it as an opportunity to hug him close, adore him in a way he won't always allow. Your arms cross around his neck and the side of your nose presses to the skin below his Adam's apple, chest crushed to his chest. 

"You okay?" he asks. 

You nod, your nose bobbing over his throat. 

"Thanks for doing my nails, love." 

"Thanks for letting me," you say, nestling your face into him, feeling mushy soft with how much you like him. 

The arm where most of your weight leans comes to cradle you, hand hesitant against your side. It's funny, in a way, because Sirius is hardly ever tentative with you these days. You laugh gently, a small huff of air. 

"What's funny?" he asks, having felt it. 

"Nothing." 

"Don't believe you. Do me a favour? Light one for me?" he asks, nodding towards his tin of rollies. 

You oblige, though you say, "You're chain-smoking." 

"M'bored. Can't touch you." 

You grin despite yourself and reach over his lap for a cig and his lighter. It's easiest to light it in your own mouth and you do, inhaling just a little to get it going before holding it to his mouth. He could take it – if he's careful, he could easily smoke it now without smudging anything – but he doesn't, content on being doted on. 

You're content to dote. Everything works out. 

You retrieve the ashtray and hold it in your other hand, flicking the smouldering end between drags for him. Eventually your fingers press against his lips, and he puckers the almost invisible bit more against them. 

You smile. His nails are almost definitely dry by now, long quiet moments of your breathing and nothing more. 

"You look pretty," you tell him, dropping the last of his cig in the ashtray and pushing it onto the coffee table.

He holds onto your arm as you lean over the table and then pulls you back. You take his face into your hands, rubbing your thumbs from the edges of his smile to the dips under his cheekbones. 

"Do I?" 

Your hands slink into his hair, raking through curled strands with care. Still, it's been hours since his shower and the curls at the back are tangled; you tug the ends. 

He groans, his second hand finding your shoulder. His rings are cold.  

You ignore the heated look he's giving you in favour of his dark mop, brushing and stroking with your fingers until you find another snag. He hisses this time and pulls you in, arms tight on your back and chest smelling of warm cologne and lingering smoke. 

"My nails are dry, you know," he warns. 

You giggle to yourself, the nervous excitement born from his threat bubbling up in a wave. 

"You think it's funny, huh?" His voice is a murmur and still echoes through the room. 

You're so bliss-happy, your lips moving against his chest as you protest, "No…" 

"No, of course you don't. My baby'd never be so cruel." 

You scratch your nails lightly over his scalp and bask in the goosebumps that ride the curve of his neck, the bare skin of his upper arms. This close, you can hear the beat of his heart and the change in its rhythm. 

Oh, you think. You pull his hair once more to be sure, positively revelling in his quick gasp. 

There's a stillness between you both for a moment. He encourages your head from his chest to meet your gaze, eyes creased in bemusement and something worse. 

"You're done, sweetness," he says.

You work a strand of his hair around your index finger, grinning.

#ahh this is so cute #sirius black x reader #sirius black imagine #marauders era

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I hope Andromeda Black knows I adore her

#andromeda black #andromeda tonks #hp #the noble house of black

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Black brothers

(just imagination)

#sirius black #regulus black #hp

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Andromeda Black

Andromeda was my favourite cousin. No, Andromeda's not on here either, look. Andromeda's sisters are still here because they made lovely, respectable pure-blood marriages, but Andromeda married a Muggle-born, Ted Tonks.

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andromeda tonks is

underrated

probably really hot

one of the best members of the noble house of black

we need to appreciate her more

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in which a kneazle imprints on one young bellatrix and so the black children clump together to figure out what to do about it 

#sirius black #regulus black #andromeda tonks #andromeda black #narcissa malfoy #narcissa black #bellatrix black #bellatrix lestrange

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a sketch of the Black sisters

#bellatrix lestrange #bellatrix black #narcissa malfoy #narcissa black #andromeda tonks #andromeda black

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I regret to inform you I’m #andromeda tonks trash.

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I normally post next gen but I needed to post this. Keeping up with the Kardashians but make it the Black family

#the noble house of black

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The Noble and most Ancient House of Black

#the noble house of black #toujours pur #sirius black #narcissa black #bellatrix black #andromeda black #regulus black

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Autumn Slytherin

#hogwarts aesthetic #slytherin #slytherin aesthetic #autumn

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THE NOBLE AND MOST ANCIENT HOUSE OF BLACK

#house of black #the noble and most ancient house of black

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Andromeda: *to Ted* Please. I have Sirius under control. He used to call me Mommy when we were little

Ted: So Sirius is your fault?

#hp #andromeda tonks #ted tonks #sirius black #incorrect quotes