Here's A Collection Of Hundreds Of Books About Magic And Witchcraft.

Concept:

We go foraging together. Every mushroom, berry, and other forest delight that we find is gentley placed in a wicker basket. You get super excited when you find ramps. It’s cute. I laugh.

NO COPS AT PRIDE JUST SNUFKIN AND HIS TASER.

White-Bear-King

Valemon

Part 1

Book by Peter Christen Asbjørnsen

This is kinda a shortened version of it.

There was once, as well could be, a king. He had two daughters, who were mean and ugly, but the third was as fair as sweet as the bright day, and the king and all were fond of her. She once dreamed about a golden wreath, which was so lovely that she couldn’t live unless she got it. But as she couldn’t get it, she began to pine and could not speak for sorrow. And when the king found out it was the wreath she was grieving for, he had one made almost like the one the princess had dreamed of, and sent it out to goldsmiths in every land and asked them to make one like it.

They worked both day and night, but some of the wreaths she threw away, and others she wouldn’t even look at. Then one day, when she was in the forest, she caught sight of a white bear, which had the wreath she had dreamed of between its paws and was playing with it. And she wanted to buy it.

No! It wasn’t to be had for money, but only in return for herself. Well, life wasn’t worth living without it, she said; it didn’t matter where she went or who she got, if only she got the wreath. And so they agreed that he was to fetch her in three days’ time, and that would be a Thursday.

When she came home with the wreath, everyone was glad because she was happy again, and the king felt sure that it would be a simple matter to keep a white beat at bay. On the third day, the whole army was posted round the castle with him. But when the white bear came, there was no one who could hold him against him, for no weapon could make any effect on him. He knocked them down right and left until they were lying in heaps. This, thought the king, was proving downright disastrous; so he sent out his eldest daughter and the white bear took her on his back and rushed off with her.

When they had traveled far, and farther than far, the white bear asked:

“Have you ever sat softer, have you ever seen clearer?”

“Yes, on my mother’s lap I sat softer, in my father’s court I saw clearer,” she said.

“Well, you’re not the right one then,” said the white bear, and chased her home again.

On the third Thursday he came again. This time he fought even harder than before, until the king thought he couldn’t let him knock down the whole army, and so he gave him his third daughter. Then he took her on his back and traveled away, far, and farther than far, and when they had reached the forest, he asked her, as he had asked the others, if she had ever sat softer and seen clearer.

“No never,” she said.

“Well, you’re the right one,” he said.

So they came to a castle which was so fine that the castle her father lived in was like the meanest cottage in comparison. There she was to stay, and live well, and she was to have nothing else to do but see to it that the fire never went out. The bear was away during the day, but at night he was with her, and then he was a man. For three years all went as well as could be. But each year she had a child, which he took and rushed away with as soon as it had come into the world. So she became more and more downcast, and asked if she couldn’t be allowed to go home and see her parents. Yes, there was no objection to that; but first she must promise that she would listen to what her father said, but not to what her mother wanted her to do. So she went home, and when they were alone with her, and she had told them how she was getting on, her mother wanted to give her a candle to take with her so she could see what the bear was like when he turned into a man at night. But her father said no, she shouldn’t do that. “It will only do more harm than good”.

But no matter how it was or was not, she took the candle stub with her when she left. The first thing she did, when he had fallen asleep, was to light it and shine it on him. He was so handsome that she thought she could never gaze her fill at him, as she shone the light, a drop of hot tallow dripped onto his forehead, and so he awoke.

“What have you done? Now you have brought misfortune on us both. There was no more than a month left; if you had only held out I would have been freed, for a Troll-hag bewitched me, so that I’m a white bear during the day. But now it’s over with us. Now I have to go there and take her.”

She cried and carried on, but he had to go and go he would. So she asked if she could go with him. That was out of the question, he said, but when he rushed off in his bearskin, she seized hold of the fur all the same, flung she up on his back and held of fast. Then they were off over mountain and hill, through groove and thicket, until her clothes were torn off, and she was so dead tired that she let go her hold, and knew no more. When she awoke, she was in a great forest, and so she set out on her way again, but she didn’t know where her path led. At last she came to a cottage where there were two womenfolk, an old crone and a pretty little girl.

The king’s daughter asked if they had seen anything of White-Bear-King Valemon.

“Yes, he rushed by here early today, but he was going so fast that you won’t catch up with him again,” they said.

The little girl scampered about, and clipped and played with a pair of golden scissors, which were such that pieces of silk and strips of velvet flew about her if she but clipped in the air. Wherever the scissors were, clothes were never lacking.

“But this poor woman, who has to journey so far and on such rough roads, she’ll have to toil hard,” said the little girl. “She has more need of these scissors than I; to cut clothes for herself,” she said, and then she asked if she could give her the scissors. Yes that she could.

So the king’s daughter set off through the forest which never came to an end, all that day and night. And the next morning she came to another cottage. Here there were also two womenfolk, and old crone and a little girl.

Goblin Table Manners

It is important that any polite young goblin keep his table manners in mind:

Elbows should be kept off the table: by keeping your elbows off the table you keep them ready to jab anyone who gets too close to your food.

When confronted with numerous eating utensils a good rule of thumb is to start by stealing the shiniest ones first

Eating with your hands is the sign of a properly brought up young goblin

There have been several conversations on the proper way to eat soup. Scooping soup into your mouth with your hands, lifting the bowl to slurp it noisily and putting your face into the bowl to drink are all acceptable.

Taking food off other peoples plates is a helpful and kindly thing to do, you are keeping their reflexes sharp and teaching them to guard their meal

Talk to both of your neighbors at the table unless they are dull in which case just shout to whomever you find interesting

Should an argument or difference of opinion break out try to calm the situation by biting the person you disagree with

Please keep in mind that many non goblins live in homes tragically devoid of moss, algae or interesting stones. For that reason it is recommended that you do not bring up such things lest the host be saddened and stop bringing you food

frodo is a cat person and sam is a dog person and they’re both fine with that. however, cats absolutely love sam and never leave him alone, and dogs just. fucking hate frodo

Not a want but a need

Moomin Desk Collection (re-ment)

yes, adam has a sad backstory. and yes, this explains why he is the way that he is. but it is still not okay. someone tell him to go to therapy, stop being weird with minors, and stop treating tadashi like that please

WHAT EPISODE IS THIS

Snufkin: Yip yip!

Moomintroll: *smiles*

internal Moomintroll: omg he’s so cute did anyone else see that my boyfriend is such a fucking dork i love him

reblog if i can gently place a photo of a frog in your PMs