What does it say about me if the prospect of driving for hours and then sleeping in my car in the middle of the woods for a few days seems perfectly normal
i can’t get used to it
i’ll never get used to it
I have love in me the likes of which you can scarcely imagine and rage the likes of which you would not believe. If I cannot satisfy the one, I will indulge the other.
Angel-zapping into a moving vehicle is a fancy move, sure, but sometimes I wonder
what if he misses
oh my god
can you imagine remus harping on sirius all the time for smelling like a wet dog, and sirius one day gets so tired of it that he just bathes himself in amortentia so he’ll smell like things remus loves. and then he just smugly goes up to remus, “what do i smell like now?” and remus just rolls his eyes like, “you smell like chocolate and wet dog, nice try covering it up.”