anachronistic marauders thing:
whenever James sees a dog he gets a photo pointing at it or with it and snapchats it to Sirius with the captions
"Is this you?"
"This is you."
and the dogs aren’t even similar to his animagus, he does it for literally every breed of dog including…
HOW WILL I DIE?
FELLATED BY MY FAILURES
Penetrated by my family
o h n o
Devoured by hugs
crushed by lord Jesus Christ
Strangled by the world we live in
Drowned in my failures. That’s rude.
Run over by Democrats. THANKS OBAMA.
Penetrated by Jesus. Unusual
Lynched by my failures.
Fucked by Everything. Sounds about right (not in a sexual context).
Buried Alive by Hugs. I accept that.
Because when I was 13 years old, I was sent home for my tank top straps being a little too thin, but a boy could wear a Cool Story babe, Go Make Me A Sandwich shirt and not be looked at twice.
Because when I was 17 and I told a guy “No” and the next day the word tease was painted on my locker.
Because when I was 18 and just wanted to be friends, I was a bitch.
Because I feel the need to say “I have a boyfriend” instead of “No” because guys respect other men more than they would ever respect me.
Because society screams “don’t get raped” instead of “don’t rape”
Because I am scared to walk alone at 10 PM
Because being beautiful is the most important thing I’ll ever do.
Because when I wear my favorite skirt “I’m asking for it”
Because the song Blurred Lines exists
Because no means no no matter how you fucking spin it
Because a girl was drugged and raped with a beer bottle, and the boys who did it are out on bail.
Because I owe you nothing
Because pepper spray is a gift I receive yearly.
Because I am asked if I have a boyfriend more than I am asked about my mental health
Because my clothes say more about my consent then my mouth does.
Because the wage gap exists
Because “not all men are like that” is said way too often
Because I feel the need to say “I’m not a feminist but…”
Because I’m writing this fucking piece
I don’t always burn my bridges, but when I do, I like there to be no survivors.
ladies and gentlemen, children’s author Ursula Vernon.
Okay, I hate the way Tumblr threads conversations, but I had to tell you that you nearly made me spit coffee on the keyboard.
…I’m bad at this Respectable Children’s Book Author thing.