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zeldathemes
Slow Descent Into Madness
Hello, my name is Grace. I am a quirky girl who loves Doctor Who, Sherlock, West Wing, Tortall, RiverxEleven, RosexTen, and Smillan. Feel free to send me asks. You can find the link to my ask box just above this text next to the "home" tab. Enjoy exploring my blog and its lovely contents. DFTBA
~Grace .aka. The Nerdy Bookish Blonde


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50shadesofmattcohen:

donttouchthescarf:

eldunariliduen:

doctorwho:

Ellie and Carl + Rory and Amy (Up + Doctor Who)

pilgrimkitty:

tea-and-sarcasm:

CANNOT UNSEE

*flail*

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And then the sad realization that they’re even more alike now.

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INHUMAN WAILS OF PAIN AND SUFFERING

arendellekingdom:

Do you think she knows how to knock?

stories-yet-to-be-written:

Where Children Sleep by James Mollison

Where Children Sleep is an eye-opening project by photographer James Mollison that takes a look at children from all across the globe and the diverse environments they go to sleep in. The series presents a portrait of each child or adolescent accompanied by a shot of their bedrooms. While some have a bounty of possessions and a lavish bed to rest their head on at night, the images reveal that some are not as fortunate.

Mollison gives an intimate perspective of these children, offering some sense of their lifestyle through their personal bedroom. At times, though, it can be difficult to even refer to the space they sleep in as a bedroom as there is no actual bed. In the case of Bilal, a 6-year-old Bedouin shepherd boy, the young boy is left to sleep “outdoors with his father’s herd of goats.” Alternatively, 4-year-old Kaya in Tokyo is adorned in frilly dresses that her mother spends $1,000 on every month, which is reflected in the abundance of toys and luxury items that fill her room.

The series is currently available as a photo essay and fine art book that offers a variety of lifestyles, as seen through the portraits of children and their bedrooms.

More pictures at My Modern Met, Visit James Mollison’s website here

dykeygreenleaf:

macklesufficient:

but real talk why don’t more people appreciate the fact that marauders and co were the class of 78

do you realize what this means

lily declaring alice’s new lunascope “far out”

sirius initially listening to muggle music to piss off his mom but then…

livesandliesofwizards:

Neville’s office isn’t in the castle.  Well, there is technically a room assigned to him (third floor, fifth door on the right, mind the re-located portrait of Sir Cadogan).  But if you needed help with your Herbology assignment or were sent to see the Head of Gryffindor House about that parakeet you snuck into the fifth floor girl’s toilets, you would never find him there.
Neville had a small cottage near the greenhouses.  There had been some grumbling about its creation when Neville first started teaching, but it was hard to argue with the Minister’s favorite advisor who just happened to be a hero.  So the cottage was built and young Mr. Longbottom and his new wife moved onto the Hogwarts grounds.
There was a steady stream of students coming in and out of the little house during class breaks.  Some carried odd potted plants, some looks of guilt etched on their faces, and some simply dropped by to say hello.  The windows had bright curtains and the chimney always cheerfully puffed smoke.  It was hard not to feel welcomed by the cozy exterior.
Things were different after night fell.  Students still weren’t allowed to wander the grounds at night, but everyone turned a blind eye to those who knocked on the cottage door under cover of darkness.  These students carried no gifts and bore no cheery smiles.  Their faces were tear-stained or bruised or fearful.  They were hunched over, trying to make themselves as small as possible.  They knocked on the door with shaking hands and trembling lips. 
When they entered they would find a crackling fire, a squashy armchair, some of Hannah Longbottom’s famous ginger biscuits and a steaming cup of tea.  And they would find Professor Longbottom, smiling kindly.  He heard stories of homesickness, of bullies and taunts, of fears and failures.  He dried tears and patted backs.  And most importantly, he listened.  
He might quietly find a bully and intervene.  He might Apparate from the Three Broomsticks to the nearest Muggle town and place a call to a concerned parent.  He might consult with Madam Pomfrey on the best way to help manage the anxieties of an overwhelmed fifth year.  He might simply sit and give a firm and thoughtful piece of advice.  But this is not why students came to Professor Longbottom’s house when life was bleak and Hogwarts was too much to bear.
They came because he had once, so many years ago, been like them.  And because they, unlike him, would never have to be alone.
(written and submitted by ppyajunebug. This is another very sweet submission from this author. ppyajunebug’s wizarding world always feels like ultimately a good place, where wrongs are righted and people do kind things. It’s an inviting, pleasant look at canon; thank you, ppyajunebug!)

livesandliesofwizards:

Neville’s office isn’t in the castle.  Well, there is technically a room assigned to him (third floor, fifth door on the right, mind the re-located portrait of Sir Cadogan).  But if you needed help with your Herbology assignment or were sent to see the Head of Gryffindor House about that parakeet you snuck into the fifth floor girl’s toilets, you would never find him there.

Neville had a small cottage near the greenhouses.  There had been some grumbling about its creation when Neville first started teaching, but it was hard to argue with the Minister’s favorite advisor who just happened to be a hero.  So the cottage was built and young Mr. Longbottom and his new wife moved onto the Hogwarts grounds.

There was a steady stream of students coming in and out of the little house during class breaks.  Some carried odd potted plants, some looks of guilt etched on their faces, and some simply dropped by to say hello.  The windows had bright curtains and the chimney always cheerfully puffed smoke.  It was hard not to feel welcomed by the cozy exterior.

Things were different after night fell.  Students still weren’t allowed to wander the grounds at night, but everyone turned a blind eye to those who knocked on the cottage door under cover of darkness.  These students carried no gifts and bore no cheery smiles.  Their faces were tear-stained or bruised or fearful.  They were hunched over, trying to make themselves as small as possible.  They knocked on the door with shaking hands and trembling lips. 

When they entered they would find a crackling fire, a squashy armchair, some of Hannah Longbottom’s famous ginger biscuits and a steaming cup of tea.  And they would find Professor Longbottom, smiling kindly.  He heard stories of homesickness, of bullies and taunts, of fears and failures.  He dried tears and patted backs.  And most importantly, he listened.  

He might quietly find a bully and intervene.  He might Apparate from the Three Broomsticks to the nearest Muggle town and place a call to a concerned parent.  He might consult with Madam Pomfrey on the best way to help manage the anxieties of an overwhelmed fifth year.  He might simply sit and give a firm and thoughtful piece of advice.  But this is not why students came to Professor Longbottom’s house when life was bleak and Hogwarts was too much to bear.

They came because he had once, so many years ago, been like them.  And because they, unlike him, would never have to be alone.

(written and submitted by ppyajunebug. This is another very sweet submission from this author. ppyajunebug’s wizarding world always feels like ultimately a good place, where wrongs are righted and people do kind things. It’s an inviting, pleasant look at canon; thank you, ppyajunebug!)

notangstinspaceanymore:

twoshotsofhappyoneshotofsad:

librariansoul:

liquidiousfleshbag:

WHY ISN’T IT SOCIALLY ACCEPTABLE TO WEAR WIZARD CLOAKS IN PUBLIC

WHY

Because of the International Statute of Wizarding Secrecy, of course. I can tell someone slept through History of Magic.

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#their url is even librarian soul its really hermione

lokis-hollow-crown:

This is my family, I found it all on my own. It’s little and broken, but still good. Yeah, still good. - Stitch