For Some Reason I Feel Like They Would Be Best Friends

I wanna be the weird lady who lives in a small house and grows lavender and wears sundresses with straw hats and always has a book to recommend

I have a theory.

What if 12 is the number of heroes that die during Infinity Wars.

I’m so sorry.

Pure genius

hermione accidentally spilling some amortentia on herself in potions and all day she has people telling her she smells good and fred’s like “you smell the same as you always do????????”

*in Infinity War*

Tony: *puts elbow pads, knee pads, and a helmet on Peter*

Tony: okay off you go.

TRADITION!

I feel like this image needs to be humorously captioned but I can’t think of anything. Somebody caption this.

So, when my maternal grandmother died, we had to find loving, permanent homes for all five of her cats because otherwise she would have risen from the grave to kill the entire family. We took in Chloe because Chloe was my grandmother’s favorite, and she made my mom promise to look after her. Now my mother treats Chloe like her third child, and the cat is basically plastered to her 24/7 when she isn’t hiding from some imagined enemy like the dustbuster or my dad’s footsteps.

Anyway, we wound up giving the rest of the cats to this couple that runs a joint called Kitty Korner. They try to find loving homes for all the cats they take in, but will care for the unadoptables (read: assholes) for the rest of their lives. That’s great, because one of the cats we gave to these poor women was Tobey. I have no idea why my grandmother ever adopted Tobey. He was a huge schmuck. The most handsome orange tomcat you ever saw, and he loved to crawl in your lap. But if you ever tried to touch him, he would switch immediately into Kill Mode and you could say goodbye to your hand. Needless to say, having him in your lap was awkward. It was like holding a bomb.

Kitty Korner sends us detailed letters every year to give us updates on how Tobey’s doing. Basically, they are status reports on how much of a douche Tobey is and continues to be. These women are saints. I guess they really like cats, because these letters are like a full page of single-spaced text. But more or less, they amount to:

2003: Tobey has a real colorful personality! But, uh, we don’t think he’s suited for adoption yet

2004: Nope, still not suited for adoption

2005: I think this is pretty much a lost cause

2006: WTF

2007: Tobey is trying to kill us and every other cat in the house

2008: Tobey is still trying to kill us and every other cat in the house

2009: Tobey is a vicious dictator and can only find pleasure in the subjugation of other organisms

BUT!!!! The past few years, Tobey has apparently been making steady improvement. And in our most recent letter, we have been informed that he is no longer doing things like venturing upstairs expressly to beat the living shit out of the other cats at Kitty Korner. He will also let you pet him, and when he’s had enough he’ll give a warning nip instead of removing your limb. In fact, Tobey, at a ripe old age of 14, is ready for a new home! With an experienced cat owner, comes the necessary caveat, and like… no kids. At all. Ever. Or other cats, probably. But at least he’s no longer a psychopath.

cub loves his caretaker

Ravenclaw: I had a funny joke, but I forgot it.

Ravenclaw: So just pretend I said something funny.

Slytherin: No.

Ravenclaw: Why not?

Slytherin: Because I’m sure whatever your joke was, it wasn’t funny.

Ravenclaw: First of all how dare you?!

Ravenclaw: Secondly, yeah, you’re probably right.

I love morgana

That’s it. I just wanted everyone to know.

I know this meme is dead, but who cares when time has no meaning, welcome to fandom