Judy Garland’s new crypt at Hollywood Forever Cemetery. Black-painted plywood covering her while marble front is being engraved.

A Study in Flowers

A ficlet for @quenoeslomismo​ and her most beautiful Gravebone prompt:  Credence and Percival are having a picnic in spring. Credence is reading a romantic novel. When Credence reaches the part in which the characters confess their love, all the flowers around them bloom.

Also on AO3

Contentment is a sleeping draught, Graves thinks. It puts your vigilance to sleep and erases your apprehension. Had he been young and hot-headed as he used to be, he would have said such a comfort is a weakness and he must be rid of it immediately. Right now, after weeks of torture and years of healing, complacency is all he is craving for.

The wind is blowing softly, the sun is partly hidden behind a fluffy cloud. The tree Graves and Credence reside under is large and protective, its powerful branches extending to create a comfortable shadow.

A page is turned. Graves looks down at Credence in his arms. The boy is fully absorbed in a book. It’s a no-maj romantic novel that seems to occupy every citizen’s bookshelf and brings delight to men and women alike. Credence has gotten to the middle of it and is now intensely reading into the lines. Graves himself has never been a romantic enough to touch upon these novels, but for his Credence he would buy a hundred of them.

Percival moves his head back and rests it on the tree trunk. His gaze lazily brushes the lush lawn grass, the distant view of a no-maj village, a ragged line of a forest along the horizon. It’s late spring and everything is yet awakening, life slowly finding its way back after cold winter slumber. It’s their first picnic of the season and he is glad to catch some fresh spring air after months of being stuck in warm confines of their cottage.

A sudden change catches Percival’s eye. He sees it beneath his legs, around their picnic blanket, spread all over the lawn. Dozens and dozens of flowers appear out of nowhere, they open up their lilac, pink and white heads and strive towards the sun. Attuned to magical changes, Graves can’t help but feel it buzz in the air. And attuned even more so to Credence, he knows such a magical change is of his doing.

Graves rests his head on Credence’s shoulder, their cheeks touching softly, and feels how hot they are.

“What are you reading, Credence? Something so unspoken of that your cheeks are now of such a rose red colour?”

“It’s nothing,” he mumbles. Graves manages to catch a glimpse of “…because my equal is here, and my likeness. Jane, will you marry me?” right before Credence closes the volume with surprising intensity. His shaking fingers clench around the paper side as he hides it away from Graves’ reach.

Percival laughs softly, brushing Credence’s cheek with his lips.

“There is nothing to be ashamed of,” he whispers, drawing the boy closer in an affectionate rush. “Such an outburst of magic is… beautiful, Credence.”

“I’m sorry…” he says quietly and hoarsely. His hands push the man away and he is trying to escape Graves’ arms, sliding off his lap. Graves pulls him back protectively, turning the boy to face him and caressing his cheek.

“Credence. I will buy you a thousand more novels if what you feel makes flowers bloom like this. You don’t have to say anything,” he presses his forehead to Credence’s and pecks his lips with a fleeting kiss. A few seconds pass and Credence’s lips stretch in a smile. He leans forward, waiting to be kissed, he loves being kissed, and Graves complies, catching his soft lips with his own.

The following day a small stack of novels appears on the boy’s bedside table. In a week they dedicate a whole bookcase to them. And every day, every sunny morning, Graves wakes up to see their garden blooming as if July arrived early. Thickets of white baby’s breath, bushes of lavender, wild tangles of sharp white and red roses are scattered across the yard in celebration of love. Graves exhales, wondering how beautiful magic can be if tamed wisely.

Imagine Newt found Credence later, wandering around the street alone at night. Newt took him back and found a place for him in the suitcase. Meanwhile they found the real Percival Graves too, struggling to stay alive under Grindelwald’s severe torture, who was sent for immediate medical care. The time he woke up and learned about the destruction of NSPS he could not contain himself, “… so everyone’s dead?”
“The boy lived.” Tina told him.
“Where is he?” Graves had this expression on his face that he might just regained something that he really cared about, so hopeful that Tina almost told him,.
“Did I… did I…urh…I mean…while Grindelwald?” Graves could not continue.
“You should focus on your recovery.” Tina managed to say that.

When Graves was finally discharged, Newt went to see him and asked nervously “How about a suitcase tour…to celebrate.”
Graves said alright sure I’ve heard all about your suitcase.
Newt seemed relief added “… I also have something to return to you.”
So Graves walked down the stairs and he saw Credence.


The 21th Anniversary of The Ibrahimi Mosque Massacre

The Palestinian people have their own calendar in which almost every day of the year goes back to a painful and atrocious massacre that the Israeli Occupation committed against our people. Everyday we have to look back in anger and remember those who fell victim in the course of the our Palestinian history that has been recorded by our people’s blood, sacrifices and suffering under the most brutal and inhumane colonial entity of Zionism.
 the Ibrahimi Mosque massacre in Hebron on Feruary 25, 1994, when Baruch Goldstein, an Israeli settler and a member of the far-right Israeli Kach movement, opened his hateful fire on unarmed Palestinian Muslims while they were in Sujoud position inside killing 29 of them and wounding 150 within 48-hour time. If he wasn’t killed by survivors then, the number of victims would have continued to rise.
And guess what the Israeli Occupation did then? They just locked those victims who were left between dead and injured inside and didn’t allow ambulances access to rescue them and forced media blackout. But once the news about this massacre spread out, revolutionary Palestinian charged with anger rioted throughout Hebron and the number of martyrs about Palestinian people reached 50. In the weeks following the massacre, thousands of Israelis traveled to Goldstein’s grave to celebrate Goldstein’s actions. You learn this and then you laugh in bitterness at the absurd that all this is happening to us and then we are the ones accused of hatred and terrorism because we’re just resisting and defending our lands and people’s lives and dignity.

Percival Graves x witch!Reader Christmas Imagine

Originally posted by pinefinemine

It took you forever to convince Graves to celebrate a No-Maj holiday with you since he disliked almost everything about No-Maj‘s and didn‘t want to enjoy anything they invited but you were after a half eternity able to talk him into it. You baked cookies together and decorated the apartment nicely until you noticed that it would be way easier to use magic to finish everything which meant you could spend more time together in front of the fireplace while cuddling.
Graves was more than displeased about your suggestion, first you get him to celebrate this No-Maj holiday and now you wanted to break the rules ? Graves could hardly say ‘no’ to you but this was too much.
„That‘s highly illegal my love, no it doesn‘t matter if no one sees us because we‘re in our apartment, no I won‘t make exceptions, not even for christmas !“

You ignored his words and pulled out your wand while holding eye contact with him. Graves furrowed his eyebrows and laid down the lametta which he held in his hand.
„Y/N no, don‘t.“
You raised your wand slowly, still ignoring Graves‘ words. Graves turned now his whole body in your direction while squinting his eyes.
„I dare you, this is my last warning ! Don‘t do this !“
You twirled your wand and used a spell and the whole apartment was decorated and cleaned up in second.

Graves held his face in his hands and restricted himself from screaming, you just broke rules in front of him, in the front of the Director of Mgical Security, in your shared apartment even after he told you not to and he couldn‘t do anything against you because he was so madly in love with you. He sometimes couldn‘t believe that he was in love and lived with a criminal who broke the wizarding rules on a daily basis.
The poor man needed a moment to collect himself before he walked up to you to close you into his arms. He looked into your eyes and lifted your chin with one hand so you looked at him as well.
„Do you think you‘ll get presents for christmas if you‘re naughty ?“
He pulled you into a rough kiss and gave you a hard smack on the ass that made you wince.
You pulled away from the kiss and Graves waited for you to respond to his question.
„I actually do because you love me and you can‘t say no to your girlfriend, Percival.“
Graves looked at you kinda surprised and you gave him a smug grin.
„You‘re a horrible, rule breaking minx and I love you so much for it Y/N.“

In Colon Cemetery in Havana, Cuba is the site of the celebrated boneyard. A single grave in the cemetery cost $10 in rent for five years. At the end of the five years, if the remains were not claimed, the bones were thrown into the boneyard [sometimes known as bone pile] by the cemetery authorities.

In the 1890s, following the Spanish-American War, American soldiers often removed skulls and bones and drove through the streets of Havana displaying them. Their commander, General Brooke ordered the practice to stop and gave instructions for the pit to be covered over. Two cards, here, show American soldiers stood on the thirty foot deep pile holding up bones in the shape of the skull and crossbones. Photographs were taken and sold commercially as souvenir postcards to send home to their loved ones.

Can I celebrate Day of the Dead?

Usually I don’t address this kind of stuff, but I’m getting tired. I’m Mexican, living in Mexico, so, I think I have a little bit of a license to talk about this.

All starts with this post.

And well, my answer is there, but I want to deepen. 

Día de Muertos (Day of the Dead) is a Mexican holiday that dates back to Pre Hispanic times, yes, before the Spanish conquest. Spanish conquerors tried to vanish it, that’s why now it’s mixed with some catholic rituals as well.

With time, this holiday reached other parts of the world, but it’s Mexican. Don’t forget that.

Every part of the country celebrates in a different way, but wih the same purpose. I live in the center, to be specific, in Mexico City, here people put an Ofrenda, that is like a altar with a photography of your deceased loved ones, with food also alcohol, cigarettes and everything that the dead relatives enjoyed in life. Also, some people go to cemetery and put their Ofrendas there, they spend the night by the side on the graves, celebrating, praying and remembering.

But enough of context, the real question is…

If I’m not Mexican, can I celebrate Día de Muertos?

Remember this… Día de Muertos is a celebration, a party, a fiesta, is not something sad or morbid, is a day to remember our loved ones with a smile. Look… we even have these sugar skull with our names on it, we don’t see it as something solemn and serious. Don’t get me wrong, is important, very, for us mexicans. I dare to say that is the most important holiday here, because is ours, is part of our History, even is part of the UNESCO intangible cultural world heritage list.

So, if you dress like a Catrina or you want to put an Ofrenda, is ok if you care to investigate a little. You can ask a Mexican friend, or do some research online, it doesn’t matter if you do all of this with respect.

Is not the same when an American dress with a sombrero and sarape to “celebrate” 5 de Mayo. 5 de Mayo here isn’t even of a big deal, and that kind of portrayal of us is, indeed, racist.

Is not like… “oh, this is a really cool celebration, when you can remember and celebrate your deceased loved ones, but is only for Mexicans”, that’s kind of childish, to be honest. You can think and celebrate and even expect your deceased loved ones to go to your house if you put an Ofrenda, is a matter of faith and a little bit of whimsy.

So, don’t be afraid to ask, to do some research, to even dare to put an Ofrenda or dress like a Catrina, because if is with respect, is ok.

Here are some important things to consider:

— Día de Muertos (Day of the Dead) is on November 2. Some people celebrate also November 1, usually dedicated to children.

— La Catrina is a representation of the Death as an elegant lady. The original image was made by José Guadalupe Posada, then included by Diego Rivera in his “Sueño de una Tarde Dominical en la Alameda Central” painting.

— A proper Ofrenda has to have:

  • Candles, to guide the way.
  • Cempazúchitl flowers or marygolds, the smell helps our visitors to keep going.
  • Salt, I don’t remember the importance, but it’s important.
  • Water, because when they arrive, they’re tired.
  • A cross made of quicklime, it also guides the way.
  • A religious image, it could be a saint, the Virgin Mary, etc.
  • Fruits, like apples, plums, bananas, pumpkins, sweet potatos, sugar canes, jicamas, tangerines, oranges, etc. These are seasonal mexican fruits, so, you can replace them.
  • Sugar skulls and other candies specifically made for Día de Muertos.
  • Pan de Muerto or… Bread of the Dead (?).
  • A photograpy of the person or persons you’re dedicating your Ofrenda.
  • Food, everything they used to like.
  • Drinks, same.
  • Everything they enjoyed in life, like cigarrettes or a toy or whatever.

— Making an Ofrenda to a deceased pet is not so rare. ;)


If you have questions, you can ask me. 

Pardon my English but… well, I’m Mexican.


“Hey, [Y/N!] We goin’ out tonight?” Sam threw the last pile of dirt back into the grave.

“Celebrate?” You looked up from the book you were reading, still researching the case you’d just wrapped up.

“Oh yeah.” Dean wiggled his eyebrows.

“Well, I hate to tell you boys, but uh, there aren’t any of your typical dive bars in this town.” You tried to hide a smile. “Just clubs.”

Dean groaned, but then realized what that meant.

“So you mean it’s gonna be a crowd of drunk women, dancing all over each other?” He smirked.

You rolled your eyes.

“Yeah, guess so.” You looked at Sam, your eyes silently convincing him to just stay in with you instead.

“Dancing…” Dean turned and nudged Sam with his elbow, a secret conversation obviously happening between them. “Like this?” 

Dean’s ass popped out from his usual posture, his arms moved up and down with clenched fists. Sam joined in right away, fighting his smile as he stuck his tongue out and furrowed his brow. You couldn’t hold back your laughter as you watched your best friend and your boyfriend, two of the strongest and toughest men you’d ever known, rub their butts together, imitating all the drunk girls Dean would inevitably be trying to hook up with later.

After they stopped, you walked over to Sam and intertwined your fingers with his.

“Do we have to go out?” You leaned your head against his arm.

“Nah, let Dean go get his girl. I’ve got mine.” He leaned over and kissed the top of your head before the three of you piled into the car.

Keep reading

The sun woke up inside of me today, not the sky.
It shined its candied light between the slates of
my rib cage, sighed its color into my chest through
crimson and plum stained glass. The ghosts inside
of me rose from their graves to celebrate their births
and deaths and my own was the center of it all.
I felt my limbs melt into the chapel walls and fell
in love with the warmth it brought to my core. I held
solar flares palms of my hands, setting all things
near aflame. 

The sun told me, “girl, I know you’ve been hurting. 
I want to give you something in the form of a hand
to hold, a ray of sunshine to tuck away in your back
pocket when you need it most.”

And so the sun sent me you.

I can’t feel the dark today, nor tonight. I can only see
what it’s going to be like when I finally breathe in your 
light and, my god, is it bright. You are so, so bright.

—  how it feels to swallow the sun // Haley Hendrick
October it's near, we al know what that means.


Ok so, you are going to some party as a spooky skeleton, but you have the good idea to dress up as something tha’s not only a skeleton, but a national symblol in another country.

The Catrina or calavera. (Mexico)

So you migth say, well its a costume what’s wrong with it. And i’ll tell you what’s wrong with it.  IT’S NOT A COSTUME. It’s not even spooky in this country, because it’s not used as a halloween prop,even most mexican people dont actually celebrate halloween since it’s close to a very important celebration of our own.

Dia de los inocentes y Dia de los muertos (November 1st and 2nd)

Let’s learn a little of that awsome “costume” you got there. 

Ok, who’s the Catrina?

The Catrina (or calavera) it’s a cartoon that was born in 1910 by famous Mexican printmaker, cartoon illustrator and lithographer Jose Guadalupe Posada.

The image depicts a female skeleton dressed only in a hat befitting the upper class outfit of a European of her time,  She is offered as a satirical portrait of those Mexican natives who, Posada felt, were aspiring to adopt European aristocratic traditions in the pre-revolutionary era.

It was Diego Rivera who show her for the first time  full dressed in his mural Sueño de una Tarde Dominical en la Alameda Central, side by side with her creator, Posada. 

It was also Rivera who gave her the name of “CATRINA” and was later popularized among mexicans. 

Why is it so important to Mexicans?

It’s one of our symbols in some of our celebrations, such as november 20th in the Revolucion Mexicana (Mexican Revolution) where the catrina is shown in tipical Mexican dresses, with a carrillera. 

We use her and her partner, the Catrin, to help us celebrate Dia de los muertos, also known as Dia de todos los santos (Or Dia de los inocentes in wich we remember all the little kids who died) in november 1st, and Dia de los Muertos in november 2nd. 

The Catrina and the Catrin are dressed, some in titpical clothes and some in clothes of the love one who is no longer here. Its also common to make a family of calaveras to decorate. 

What does calaveritas and catrinas mean in Dia de los muertos?

In Dia de los Muertos, mexican families put up an altar to honor and remember our loved ones who died. Wich is used to (supossedly) bring their souls back to us so they can have a nice party. In wich we use their favourite food and drinks to decorate it, so the spirits can eat something in the time they’re here. Tipical food is also used in the altar, such as Arroz, mole, tequila, and some seasonal fruit as oranges, tangerines, sugar canes and jicamas.

Dia de los muertos is also celebrated in cementeries and graves. 

And then thre’s the Calaveritas. Calaveritas are commonly made of sugar, and decorated with eatible glitter. And they have the name of our dead relative in their foreheads.  - Fun fact: The calaveritas are not a mexican, theyre spanish. Spanish people were the ones that introduced this tradition to our country, since our dia de los muertos was almost the same day as spanish celebration, Dia de todos los fieles -. 

Catrinas and Catrines are used to help us mock and make fun of death in a respectful way, we take all the sad and creepy meaning of dying and turn it into a big party. 

So now you ask, then when is it okay to dress as a catrina, or catrin or calavera? 

And i say, it’s okay to do it only if you do these  simple things. 

1.- Dont use it to “scare” people, Catrinas are not scary, Catrins are pretty and flirty, they have flowers in their huge hats, and a big smile in their face. 

2.- Please be respectful, a lot of people don’t care to investigate the meaning of our catrinas and catrines, they do not know these guys are not costumes to be used in “spooky” celebrations, but to honour our dead people. 

3.- Dont call it a costume. 

4.- It’s ok to do it even if you dont have mexican roots or traditions, only if you know what it means. 

5.- If you think its pretty and dont make fun of it. 

Please don’t be a poop about our traditions, Also please don go dressed as a ranchero. Mexicans dont ride by donkyes anymore. 

In Colon Cemetery in Havana, Cuba is the site of the celebrated boneyard. A single grave in the cemetery cost $10 in rent for five years. At the end of the five years, if the remains were not claimed, the bones were thrown into the boneyard [sometimes known as bone pile] by the cemetery authorities.

In the 1890s, following the Spanish-American War, American soldiers often removed skulls and bones and drove through the streets of Havana displaying them. Their commander, General Brooke ordered the practice to stop and gave instructions for the pit to be covered over. Two cards, here, show American soldiers stood on the thirty foot deep pile holding up bones in the shape of the skull and crossbones. Photographs were taken and sold commercially as souvenir postcards to send home to their loved ones.

Today you can call virtually anything “art” and get away with it. One reason for the explosion in what counts as art is that the art world itself has taken up the old theme of getting “art” and “life” back together. Gestures of this kind have lurched between the innocent and the outrageous, from taking quilts into fine art museums or pulp fiction into literature courses, to playing street noises in symphony halls or undergoing plastic surgery on satellite video. The entry of so many eccentric artefacts, writings,noises, and performances into fine art has led some to talk darkly of a “death” of art, or literature, or classical music. Others, wrapped in the banner of postmodernism, agree that the modern fine art system is dead but invite us to dance on its grave in celebration of yet another liberation.

I am less interested in whether we ought to dance or weep than in understanding in how we have come to this place. If we want to make sense of the explosion of what counts as art and the yearning to reunite art and life, we need to understand where the modern ideas and institutions of fine art came from.

>>>The modern system of art is not an essence or a fate but something we have made. Art as we have generally understood it is a European invention barely two hundred years old. It was preceded by a broader, more utilitarian system of art that lasted over two thousand years and it is likely to be followed by a third system of the arts. What some critics fear or applaud as the death of art or literature or serious music may only be the end of a particular social institution constructed in the course of the eighteenth century. Yet like so much else that emerged from the Enlightenment, the European idea of fine art was believed to be universal, and European and American armies, missionaries, entrepreneurs, and intellectuals have been doing their best to make it so ever since.

—  from Larry Shiner’s ‘The Invention of Art: A Cultural History’ which challenges conventional understanding of Art (artist vs artisan, gender bias, patron vs market, 'primitive art’ and non existence of autonomous art object in Ancient civilisations etc) and along with this and this is the most useful thing I’ve read concerning Art History. Self initiated learning 4 eva ) 

In Colon Cemetery in Havana, Cuba is the site of the celebrated boneyard. A single grave in the cemetery cost $10 in rent for five years. At the end of the five years, if the remains were not claimed, the bones were thrown into the boneyard [sometimes known as bone pile] by the cemetery authorities.

In the 1890s, following the Spanish-American War, American soldiers often removed skulls and bones and drove through the streets of Havana displaying them. Their commander, General Brooke ordered the practice to stop and gave instructions for the pit to be covered over. Two cards, here, show American soldiers stood on the thirty foot deep pile holding up bones in the shape of the skull and crossbones. Photographs were taken and sold commercially as souvenir postcards to send home to their loved ones.



In Sweden we celebrate All Hallows’ Eve the night before your Halloween. Traditionally you’re supposed to visit your lost ones and place a lit candle on the grave, to celebrate their life. For the children it’s all the same as in America. They dress up as witches and vampires and asks “trick or treat” around the neighborhood.

Yesterday, All Hallows’ eve of course, I heard a knock on the door. I expected more werewolf kids to dissapoint, I didn’t have any candy, that’s why I told the last group of children “trick”.

Oddly, there was no one there.

My first thought was that I’d been tricked by the last kid who didn’t receive any candy. Feeling relieved I didn’t get egg on my windows or toilet paper in the garden I turned back inside.

I wish I was right about that one.

I haven’t slept since yesterday, it feels like someone is watching me. You see, there was another knock on the door and this time I did see something.

Below the doorstep was a newly lit candle.

Credits to: robinrosen


I’ve always hated cats.

Even as a little girl, when all of my friends wanted a kitten, I hated them. I hated their sinuous hairy bodies, their rough seeking tongues. Hated the weird rumbling sounds they made. But most of all, I hated them because they were sneaky. Always swirling around your legs trying to trip you, pretending to like you one minute and rejecting you the next. Sneaky.

But I could be sneaky too. I bought tuna fish. It was a simple matter to lure them into the house. The greedy monsters were crazy for the stuff. After I trapped them inside, it was easy enough. Oh sure, some of them put up quite a fight. I got scratched a couple of times, but they were easy to kill, really. One quick whack with the clever and they were pretty much done for. Rendering was not so easy. They had a lot of little bones. You had to pick through the flesh carefully to find them all. And don’t even get me started about the hair…or the smell, yuck! But it was done now. They were ready.

I had put just a little of the meat into each cookie. Experience had tought me that if you put too much you would start to taste it. But sugar and chocolate can hide a world of sins. The cookies were molded into the arched shape of a howling cat. Perfect for Halloween. Each costumed little girl would get a special treat from me, even if she didn’t know it. Something she has always wanted. Her very own little kitten.


Credits to: charitytryst


A little bit more Rupert Graves in Screen One: Royal Celebration (BBC1, 1993)… [more info / more gifs here]

My off-air VHS transfer (incomplete: *sigh*); my 500px gifs.

Rupert’s formal-dressing confidence seems to have taken a knock since 1988 (below) – but with gorgeously hypnotic results…