I lost it at the end.

Okay, I had to check out the Van Eyck thing. I was a bit in denial because, come on, every single person can’t look like President Putin!

There are no words to describe how wrong I was.

Reblogging this for my art history class this semester


The art historian in me had to reblog this.

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you promised these kids krabby the clown

but all i saw was


cheapy the cheapskate

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(via fooodology)

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she thicc

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WiFi: connected
Me: then fucking act like it
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Children. They were teaching children

Rowena, Godric, Salazar; they tended to forget that. They saw young minds, young acolytes - eyes that would look up to them. Not innocence. Not childish wonder.

Toughen them, said Godric.

Make them smart, said Rowena.

And ambitious, above all, said Salazar.

But war and the real world; that was not where children belonged. Aye, they would belong one day, but it was not their part to turn them cruel, make them hard, make their eyes dart sideways always looking for ways to twist the world to further their own ends. They were to protect them. Shield them from the worst so that some good, some kindness would find its way into an ever darkening world. To give them weapons and teach them how to use them, but never tell them that those weapons were their only hope.

She’d seen in all the battles she’d rode out to just how dark the world could be. Was it not their duty to bring light into this world? To fight darkness with light; not with more darkness - with divisiveness and strife and hatred?

I will take them all, she said. 

I will protect the ones you will not. I will save them. I will give them a home. They will be the last rays of all that is good in this world. I will teach them kindness. I will teach them loyalty. I will teach them selflessness.

I will teach them how to be the backbone, the heart of this world. I will teach them how to stand steadfast, when all hope is lost. 

I will teach them how to be human, to be more than just one single word.

No, she knew, theirs would not be an easy path, or a glorious one. They would have no songs. No great tales in books. No laurels. No consolation, no thanks.

But they would be the reason why, when the darkness finally came, all of them in all their different colours would stand shoulder to shoulder and draw their wands as brothers in arms.

Not for achievements. Not for trophies. Not for power.

For goodness. For hope.

And when the time came for them to choose the words that would forever guide the children that would come to them, Helga smiled and engraved, upon a bronze plaque, these words:

Draco dormiens nunquam titillandus.

(But her students remembered a very different set of words. Hogwarts will always be there to welcome you home.)

(Helga Hufflepuff requested by boney-eyes-jefferson)

#and this my friends is why no one is quite sure what a hufflepuff really is#the answer is: everyone #they come in a million different shapes and sizes#they could be braver than gryffindors #and more cunning and more ambitious than slytherins #even smarter than ravenclaws #but they all come to hufflepuff #and there learn to be loyal and fair and goodhearted #and that quite possibly #is why hufflepuff has hardly any dark witches and wizards #because they have learnt how to be the very last line of defence #before chaos takes over the world #and thisTHIS is the sleeping dragon you do not tickle #because if they can’t protect the earth you can be damned well sure they’ll avenge it #look i gave myself hufflepuff feels


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"My editor won’t let any of the characters swear. Which is sometimes difficult because Ron is definitely a boy who would swear."

J.K. Rowling  (via ollivander)

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Rotting Out gets it.

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