Ghost

My Button Collection

patchworkmountain:

Handmade Table Topper Quilted Square Gold and Green Leaves on The CraftStar

patchworkmountain:

Handmade Table Topper Quilted Square Gold and Green Leaves on The CraftStar

artesens:

The Seamstress, 1946
Jacob Lawrence

artesens:

The Seamstress, 1946

Jacob Lawrence

(Source: kutxx)

fuckyeaharthuriana:

stratosphericstrawberryslimexlr:

I’m going to putting these up on eBay for $250 later tonight. All 6 in great condition sans their certificates of authenticity. However if someone is interested on here before then please let me know.

I want a hundred of these

futurejournalismproject:

#BookBenches

England’s National Literacy Trust commissioned artists to create 50 benches based on both specific books and the worlds authors create more generally.

Part of a literacy campaign called Books About Town, the benches are set throughout London across four different walking tours.

Visit Books About Town for more.

Images: Dr. Suess (top); Bridget Jones Diary and Dickens Liverpool (row two); Origin of Species and Paddington (row three); and Pride and Prejudice, Sherlock Holmes and Lion, Witch and the Wardrobe (row four). Select to embiggen.

savior-of-memories:

clippie:

today’s date is

image

How long have you been wait to post this?

ebookporn:

mzapplebee:

Our Book Club

Very cute, worth a look. ~ eP

ebookporn:

mzapplebee:

Our Book Club

Very cute, worth a look. ~ eP

doctorxrose:

the-fandoms-are-cool:

can we please talk about this

1998 is a hard year for jackie # even working two jobs money is tight # (especially with rose’s gymnastic lessons # but rose loves them and jackie will sell her own kidneys to ensure she can keep attending) # and christmas is just around the corner # she looks over her books and feels ill: # she simply can’t afford to get rose any proper gift this year # and it breaks her heart # because rose is so excited # she loves christmas # keeps saying how she hopes it’ll snow this year # proper like # and christmas eve jackie is up late # worrying and hating how disappointed rose is gonna be come morning # when she wakes up to see the floor is almost empty beneath the tree # and that’s when there’s a knock at the door # she opens it # (with a baseball bat at the ready - it’s late on the estate after all) # and there’s no one there # just a red child-sized bike # with a note attached # 'she's gonna be fantastic' it reads in messy loopy handwriting # 'merry christmas' # and normally she’d be worried about weirdos and stalkers but tonight # tonight it’s christmas eve and jackie tyler knows when not to look a gift horse in the mouth # so she hauls it inside quiet as she can # and the next morning when she’s awoken by the sound of rose crashing her new bike # into the hallway mirror # shrieking in delight the entire time # she takes a moment to say a silent thank you (via)

(Source: mickeysmth)

cartoonpolitics:

"Child, you have to learn to see things in the right proportions. Learn to see great things great and small things small." .. (Cornelia ten Boom)

cartoonpolitics:

"Child, you have to learn to see things in the right proportions. Learn to see great things great and small things small." .. (Cornelia ten Boom)

dingdongyouarewrong:

date a tall boy with black hair. date a boy who will hate the world with you. date a boy who drinks tea and will sit with you by the fire. date a boy with honour. date a boy who needs to capture the avatar to restore his honour. date prince zuko.

djevojka:

Alice in Wonderland by Adam Oehlers

fantasticallyficticious:livesandliesofwizards:



At twilight on August the 25th 1999, one week before classes were to begin, Hermione Granger Apparated into Hogsmeade, a wand box clutched under her arm.
Headmistress McGonagall was waiting for her outside the Three Broomsticks. The two women greeted each other warmly, and then set off towards the castle. Or rather, towards the grounds outside the castle.
They chatted amiably as they strolled towards the groundskeeper’s hut.  Hagrid, sitting outside and darning a pair of enormous socks, looked up as they approached.
“Good evenin’ Headmistress, Hermione,” he said with some gruff surprise.
“Good evening, Hagrid,” replied McGonagall. “May we go inside?  I believe Hermione has a proposition to discuss with you.”
If you had stood outside the hut as the evening darkened and the stars rose into the sky, you’d have heard the rumblings of an argument coming from inside the hut. You’d have heard Hagrid’s gruff refusals, Hermione’s calm (and then not so calm) rebuttals, and the very occasional interjection of the Headmistress.
Hermione did not emerge until the moon had fully risen and darkness enveloped the grounds. But in the light of the nearly full moon, you could see a smile on her face.
~
The Shrieking Shack was no longer widely believed to be haunted, now that the story of Remus Lupin was fully known.  Still, the residents of Hogsmeade and Hogwarts avoided it out of a mixture of respect and residual fear.
This suited Hermione perfectly. The interior of the Shack was now stacked with books and bottles of potion ingredients. A cauldron sat in the corner, a telescope pointed out a cracked window, and cushions lined one wall. A table was covered in parchment, broken quills, ink pots and stains. Once a week, Hermione would apparate into the Shack and go over her notes from the previous session while she awaited her student’s arrival.
Sometimes he was late without explanation. Sometimes he would bring a wounded bowtruckle he wasn’t comfortable leaving on its own.  Sometimes Fang would follow him and sit in the corner whining while his master sweated and cursed over a cauldron. Hermione was calm but firm, making adjustments as needed and letting Hagrid’s frustrated words roll off her back like water droplets. 
The Hogsmeade residents may have turned a blind eye to the goings-on in the Shrieking Shack, but that didn’t mean they weren’t relieved as time went on and there were fewer and fewer roars of anger echoing through the village.
~
The OWL testers had been warned in advance that they would have an unusual student that year. That didn’t mean they weren’t taken aback when Rubeus Hagrid appeared on their testing scrolls. They all knew of him of course, knew the role he played in the Second War and of the false accusations leveled against him.
They were worried they would have to be kind.
They needn’t have. No one could have Hermione Granger teach them personally for a year and not improve in all aspects. His potions may not have been textbook perfection, he may not have fully transfigured his toad, but Hagrid had clearly worked hard to master his long dormant abilities.
Rubeus Hagrid may not have followed the traditional path to wisdom.  But he had a new wand, the (sometimes grudging) respect of his peers, classes to teach and 6 OWLs.
Including the highest score ever recorded on Care of Magical Creatures.
(written and submitted by ppyajunebug; please excuse me, because I have something in my eye. Oh yes, it is my joyful tears. ppyajunebug has a way of bringing those out of me, you see. Their submissions tackle some of the saddest moments in canon, turning them around and making something beautiful out of them.)

THIS WAS SO STINKIN CUTE EVERYONE STOP WHAT YOU’RE DOING AND READ THIS

fantasticallyficticious:livesandliesofwizards:

At twilight on August the 25th 1999, one week before classes were to begin, Hermione Granger Apparated into Hogsmeade, a wand box clutched under her arm.

Headmistress McGonagall was waiting for her outside the Three Broomsticks. The two women greeted each other warmly, and then set off towards the castle. Or rather, towards the grounds outside the castle.

They chatted amiably as they strolled towards the groundskeeper’s hut.  Hagrid, sitting outside and darning a pair of enormous socks, looked up as they approached.

“Good evenin’ Headmistress, Hermione,” he said with some gruff surprise.

“Good evening, Hagrid,” replied McGonagall. “May we go inside?  I believe Hermione has a proposition to discuss with you.”

If you had stood outside the hut as the evening darkened and the stars rose into the sky, you’d have heard the rumblings of an argument coming from inside the hut. You’d have heard Hagrid’s gruff refusals, Hermione’s calm (and then not so calm) rebuttals, and the very occasional interjection of the Headmistress.

Hermione did not emerge until the moon had fully risen and darkness enveloped the grounds. But in the light of the nearly full moon, you could see a smile on her face.

~

The Shrieking Shack was no longer widely believed to be haunted, now that the story of Remus Lupin was fully known.  Still, the residents of Hogsmeade and Hogwarts avoided it out of a mixture of respect and residual fear.

This suited Hermione perfectly. The interior of the Shack was now stacked with books and bottles of potion ingredients. A cauldron sat in the corner, a telescope pointed out a cracked window, and cushions lined one wall. A table was covered in parchment, broken quills, ink pots and stains. Once a week, Hermione would apparate into the Shack and go over her notes from the previous session while she awaited her student’s arrival.

Sometimes he was late without explanation. Sometimes he would bring a wounded bowtruckle he wasn’t comfortable leaving on its own.  Sometimes Fang would follow him and sit in the corner whining while his master sweated and cursed over a cauldron. Hermione was calm but firm, making adjustments as needed and letting Hagrid’s frustrated words roll off her back like water droplets. 

The Hogsmeade residents may have turned a blind eye to the goings-on in the Shrieking Shack, but that didn’t mean they weren’t relieved as time went on and there were fewer and fewer roars of anger echoing through the village.

~

The OWL testers had been warned in advance that they would have an unusual student that year. That didn’t mean they weren’t taken aback when Rubeus Hagrid appeared on their testing scrolls. They all knew of him of course, knew the role he played in the Second War and of the false accusations leveled against him.

They were worried they would have to be kind.

They needn’t have. No one could have Hermione Granger teach them personally for a year and not improve in all aspects. His potions may not have been textbook perfection, he may not have fully transfigured his toad, but Hagrid had clearly worked hard to master his long dormant abilities.

Rubeus Hagrid may not have followed the traditional path to wisdom.  But he had a new wand, the (sometimes grudging) respect of his peers, classes to teach and 6 OWLs.

Including the highest score ever recorded on Care of Magical Creatures.

(written and submitted by ppyajunebug; please excuse me, because I have something in my eye. Oh yes, it is my joyful tears. ppyajunebug has a way of bringing those out of me, you see. Their submissions tackle some of the saddest moments in canon, turning them around and making something beautiful out of them.)

THIS WAS SO STINKIN CUTE EVERYONE STOP WHAT YOU’RE DOING AND READ THIS

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