can i be real for a second? can i be sincere? can i be fucking earnest for one moment? nothing is more important than the human proclivity for storytelling.
Where lieth the rain?
Welcome! This is Very Much a multifandom blog
And now....the weather
(Also, I have an art/photography blog: glasscabinets.tumblr.com)
Lupine leaves were meant to capture raindrops.
© riverwindphotography
Kenneth Branagh as professor Gilderoy Lockhart in a never-before-seen before photoshoot from Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets - Entertainment Weekly.
these are, the best ever though
(via slayter-kinney)
Kvothe <3
‘And there where the White Mountains of Ered Nimrais came to their end he saw, as Gandalf had promised, the dark mass of Mount Mindolluin, the deep purple shadows of its high glens, and its tall face whitening in the rising day. And upon its out-thrust knee was the Guarded City, with its seven walls of stone so strong and old, they they seem to have been not builded but carven by giants out of the bones of the earth.’
(via elvensoul)
I never thought I’d be able to do any of this stuff. But, I can. Anyone can wear the mask. You could wear the mask. If you didn’t know that before, I hope you do now.
(via poofthebastard)
HP book moments: 3/?
Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows, chapter 36.
‘That isn’t how he works, is it? Who are you going to use as a shield today, Potter?’
‘Nobody,’ said Harry simply. ‘There are no more Horcruxes. It’s just you and me. Neither can live while the other survives, and one of us is about to leave for good…’
‘One of us?’ jeered Voldemort, and his whole body was taut and his red eyes stared, a snake that was about to strike. ‘You think it will be you, do you, the boy who has survived by accident, and because Dumbledore was pulling the strings?’
‘Accident, was it, when my mother died to save me?’ asked Harry. They were still moving sideways, both of them, in that perfect circle, maintaining the same distance from each other, and for Harry no face existed but Voldemort’s. ‘Accident, when I decided to fight in that graveyard? Accident, that I didn’t defend myself tonight, and still survived, and returned to fight again?’
(via potterdaily)
Why is it when something happens, it’s always you three? Believe me, professor, I’ve been asking myself the same question for six years.
(via ginniewheezie)
Peter Pan (1953) Dir. Clyde Geronimi, Wilfred Jackson, & Hamilton Luske
(via spongebobssquarepants)
Hey, do you know that feeling of hitching up a long skirt so you don’t fall on your face when walking upstairs, and then you immediately become a wretched yet resolute Jane Austen character? It’s a universal thing, right?
It’s like resting a laundry basket against your hip and suddenly you’re a long-suffering peasant woman, wondering if you’ll survive the winter.
a shawl wrapped around the shoulders and you’re wandering the moors in a Brönte novel, feeling melancholic
Looking out the window at the rain and you’re a love-stricken newlywed wondering when your husband will return from the war.
Long skirt billowing behind you while to go down the stairs, you’re a proper Lady in a flowing ball gown being introduced at a fancy social function.
Hair blowing in the wind and suddenly you’re hovering on a cliff by the sea, staring out into the waves and praying your merchant husband will return from his voyage across the ocean
Hood up against the rain and wind and you’re a medieval abbess defying the weather and travelling on foot with your people to find a place to establish a new community.
Wiping your hands on your apron and you’re an 18th century kitchen girl rushing to let in the delivery boy you secretly love.
(via gombocbogar)
Nen Hithoel