Writer, diabetic, night owl, cat lady, manic-depressive, cranky about 42% of the time, Slytherin, uses offbeat humor as a coping mechanism, loves history and trivia, has the hobbies of a 70-years-old matron, breaks a lot of traffic laws to get to thrift/antique stores and flea markets, will use any excuse to play dress-up, almost as bitter as Nathan Fillion about Firefly being cancelled, Disney and Ghibli fangirl, always up for science fiction and fantasy anything, reader and collector of books, endlessly fascinated by cultures not my own, big fan of puns and dumb humor, shameless user of the word "y'all", not religious, meat-eater, accepts ritual sacrifice in the form of writing prompts, farm-raised, doesn't mind anything you say or do so long as you're not being an asshole or hurting anyone, likes being alone but not being lonely, still learning to be a grown-up and only fond of a few aspects of it, adores bearded men, mesmerized by pretty girls, infinitely jealous of artists of any ilk, lover of fairy tales and folklore, reflexively sarcastic, likes nature but thinks we should probably just be friends, hard to embarrass or make uncomfortable, talks too much, fond of being talked to.

crossovers-are-cool:

hogwarts doodles by me ( •-• )
sad houses r sad

(Source: ladycrofts)

dacookiesrmine:

sparklywizard-in-a-box:

sovereigncephalopod:

misha-let-me-touch-your-assbutt:

dinosaurs-daleks-and-detectives:

I love how tumblr is so hell bent on their being a Marauders movie they will probably end up making it themselves

wow this is scarily well done

BEST ONE BEST ONE BEST ONE

YOUNG SNAPE THO

(Source: bowberry)

mondoodoo:

so i was looking up off bug spray ads and i was expecting to see some lady on a lawn chair with a bottle of bug spray but instead i saw

image

then i came across this gem

image

and this last one was pure gold

image

god bless you off bug spray

(Source: missedea)

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!)

(Source: damngoodyoga.com)

ihaveahutchersonproblem:

I have never reblogged anything faster in my life.

(Source: l0ve-pride-deepfried-chicken)

(Source: outermostdig)

chief-rumbly-noises:

z-o-l-a:

My dad gave our 2 month old English bulldog puppy a taste of strawberry Popsicle today. This is true happiness.

This makes me so happy

l·o·v·[luhv]  - noun

a feeling of warm personal attachment or deep affection,
as for a parent, child, or friend.

(Source: pelennors)

queenlovett:

notordinaryfashion:


Carolina Herrera


that is a magical dress made out of the night sky and stars. no one can tell me different

queenlovett:

notordinaryfashion:

Carolina Herrera

that is a magical dress made out of the night sky and stars. no one can tell me different

16 But Ruth said: “Entreat me not to leave you, Or to turn back from following after you; For wherever you go, I will go; And wherever you lodge, I will lodge; Your people shall be my people, And your God, my God. 17 Where you die, I will die, And there will I be buried. The Lord do so to me, and more also, If anything but death parts you and me.—-

Ruth 1:16-22

(Source: apolloniacorleone)

Just want to say something.

lunalovegoodish:

People always complain about how Harry never named one of his children after Remus, while Remus was an extremely important person in Harry’s life and so on and so forth.

Well, there’s actually an extremely simple explanation to that problem.

Harry already had a son named after Remus Lupin.

Teddy Remus Lupin was Harry’s first son.

You’ll never be able to convince me Harry didn’t think this.

marina-and-the-dragons:

spread-hope-inspire:

Tribute to Steve Irwin, a guy who genuinely loved nature and animals.

This man was beyond real

keyblade-crafter:

bearded-drumfill:

gaminginyourunderwear:

EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

UNCLE

Sort of hyperventilating

keyblade-crafter:

bearded-drumfill:

gaminginyourunderwear:

EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

UNCLE

Sort of hyperventilating

(Source: elementalsight)

OH MAN, HAPPY BIRRRRTTTHHHHDAAAAAYYY!!!!!!!

Thank you very much! <3