concept: instead of hedwig, Harry goes into the pet store and this little snake in the back of the store talks to him, obviously gets his attention more than the other animals, and harry feels sorry for it so he takes it home. Then the snake helps Harry throughout his years at hogwarts as harry carries it wrapped around his hand all like “pssssst, haaarryyy, the dark lord isss coming sss” or just petty shit like “haaaarrryy, now is the time, assskkk out cho chaaannngg”
The snake getting really agitated in second year and Harry like ‘Aw, what’s wrong little friend?’
And snake’s like ‘Nah don’t worry it’s cool, it’s just that big fuck-off snake in the pipes that keeps making you think you’re hearing things—it’s like, ten thousand foot long, and I’m a corn snake, so you know. Bit intimidating.’
Third year he eats Scabbers and saves them all a lot of time
i’m gonna buy the book about a bbw fucking a bear who is also a billionaire
KAT DON’T DO IT. DON’T READ ABOUT FUCKING A BEAR
YOU’RE TOO LATE, NO ONE CAN TELL ME WHAT TO DO
AND THEY’RE NOT JUST BEARS
THEY’RE BRO BEARS
KAT NO
KAT NO OOO. NO
i finished it last night and here is what you need to know about this book
it is never explicitly stated that Janna is a black woman but repeated references are made to her ‘rich brown skin’ and ‘tight curls’ and ‘plump lips’ and also the words sassy, strong, and independent are used excessively
the bear thing is pretty much just an excuse to have really huge buff dudes who fall in love at first sight. there is no bear sex. i was totally waiting for the kinky bear sex and it never happened. they weren’t even that hairy. bear bros are pretty vanilla, it turns out.
bear bros are into fat women because they’re the only one that can handle their huge bear dicks and huge bear cubs:
the reason the chubby protaganist is so sturdy is that she actually a secret princess bear:
bear bros know what to do when you accidentally make a girl think you’re fucking crazy by running around the woods naked:
THE BEARMEN CAN FUCKING TALK WHEN THEY ARE IN BEAR FORM I SWEAR TO FUCKING GOD I WAS IN TEARS OH MY FUCKING GOD
I love that I keep getting tagged in this post. It’s enough to make me want to buy the books for pure nostalgia. Also what was that other book you tagged me in the other day, I’m off to find it.
just a reminder that this won Canada’s highest literary honor
So I came home from work today and there was a kindle addressed to me that I did not remember ordering. I spent the afternoon trying to figure out how I accidentally purchased a kindle from Amazon, and when I came back from hanging out with Catherine, I told my parents, guys, you will not believe what I accidentally ordered for myself.
“Huh,” said Dad very casually. “Did you get charged for it?”
I spent the next five minutes checking my bank account and came back into the living room to announce, “No, I didn’t. Do you think it’s a mistake? But it has my name on it! what does this mean”
It was around the time that I started to sound panicked that Dad confessed to buying it for me (“I didn’t realize the mystery of it would be so terrifying”). Which was very, very sweet and slightly unfortunate because yesterday I purchased a replacement kindle for myself.
So anyway, we now have a family kindle
Me and Mom were talking about the kindle this morning, and she told me about how a few weeks ago, she got into her car only to discover that it had been mysteriously cleaned.
“But who would do this?” she said to my father who said he was sure he had no idea. “A student? A stranger? Someone who broke into my car to steal it but felt bad about how dirty it was? WHO??”
Eventually Dad was like, “Honey. It was clearly me.”
Poor Dad just wants to be a man who expresses his love through silent actions, but his family consists of panicked, suspicious women who apparently are very sure that strangers will ominously do nice things for us
Aries: Swimming pools, cold drinks in the summer. Hazy orange-yellow sunsets, passionate kisses. Hair touching, long car rides with friends, watching the sunrise. Long naps, yelling along to music.
Taurus: Secluded forests, slight breezes that sway tall grass. Long, meaningful text messages, chipped nail polish, the smell of the ocean. Having the music at full volume and drowning out the rest of the world.
Gemini: Long car rides alone, windows down, loud music. Poetry, typewriter clicks. Laughing so hard your stomach hurts. The color black and navy blue, the smell after the rain. Existentialism, looking at stars.
Cancer: Long, warm hugs. Hand holding, kept secrets and light-hearted jokes. The color blue, dogs, wild flowers that grow in your backyard. The smell of new books, and the sound of an old piano.
Leo: Clean sheets, sleeping in late. Sunlight pouring into your room. Stretching, the smell of chocolate chip pancakes. CD's and clothes everywhere, intimacy. Bonfires, exotic beaches, and slightly out-of-tune guitars.
Virgo: Freckles, musical theatre, live performances. Harmonic singing, late night phone calls. Raspy morning voices, vanilla, and running until you're out of breath. Art museums, dancing, dark circles under your eyes. Foreign countries and languages, dogs.
Libra: Smiling between kisses, art galleries, paint-stained clothing. The sound of the harp. Graphite, the smell of coffee. Kept promises, swimming, and colliding hugs. Intertwined fingers, cats, crying, and the smell of burning wood in the wintertime.
Scorpio: Comfortable silence, nature, relaxation, being home. Thinking, being with family, the color green. Intelligence, old books, and the calming hum of a car engine. Camping, imperturbability.
Sagittarius: Colorful hair, falling snow. Hidden rivers, small towns. Art stores, book shops, the smell of baked cookies. Long, meaningful hugs, hand-written letters. The calm before a storm, candids, canoeing. Friendship, drives at dusk.
Capricorn: The piano, antique shops. The smell of freshly baked bread. Herbal tea, late night sketches, seeing someone you love for the first time. Knowledge, the color purple, wit, slow songs, and sarcasm. Long, hot showers, the sound of the rain.
Aquarius: Travelling, foreign food. The gentle breeze of a fan in the summer, the smell of watermelon. Peaches, musicals, vinyl's, black and white movies. Sleeping until noon, iced coffee, tanning. Perfume, the taste of champagne, blogging.
Pisces: Hanging plants, baby blue eyes. Trying to suppress laughter at 4 am with your best friend, horror movies, conspiracies. The smell of popcorn, swift kisses, constant eye contact. The Beatles, strawberries, and the color yellow.
I was sitting with him the other day, deep in conversation and all of a sudden, it struck me that I was going to love him. As his hands gestured wildly about, brown eyes raw with a hunger for knowledge I felt something in the air click into place.
Him, and I. Us. Eternal.
And it was then I realized: our souls were embracing each other like old friends who had spent too many years apart. We had found each other, at last.
It’s not love in the traditional sense.
I love you.
I love being around you.
I love holding your hand and talking to you.
I love hearing your ideas.
I love how much of yourself you put into your life.
It’s not love in the romantic sense.
I just want to be there for you, to catch you when you fall and to help you along the way.
And I want you to be there for me too.
Because I love you.
I’m just not in love with you.
they will not write about us because darling
we’re not in love
and we both know that poems ought to be about lovers
or brothers
not best friends halfway in the middle
god, i’d never kiss you
but our hands fit like puzzle pieces and your smile makes my heart sing and you cried when you said you love me
voice thick with fear and awe and i knew then i could break you and that terrifies me because you deserve better but i would die for you
when i was thirteen my bedroom window looked out on the big dipper every summer and it made me feel safe but if every star in that constellation went out i’d still have your hands smoothing a brush through my hair (your eyes shine brighter than those distant suns anyway)
we are not the stuff of legends in this world where it’s only love if you fuck the stories people want to hear end in a kiss not a high five or a fistbump but if i’ve got you i don’t need to make history
and while you do not kiss away my tears you let them seep into your shirt and to me, that is just as good
not every beautiful thing has to be a love story (g.c.r.)
“Icarus. The original myth had two parts. Daedalus said to his son, ‘I fashioned these wings for you. Two rules. Don’t fly too high, or the sun will melt the wax. But, more important, son, don’t fly too low. Because if you fly too low, the water and the waves will surely weigh down the wings, and you will die.’ We’ve left out the second part of the myth. We don’t say to people anymore, ‘Don’t fly too low.’ All we do from the time they are 4 years old is warn them against hubris. We have created this industrially led structure that says: How dare you.”
