#and couldn't get it for Harry

[kravatkan]

Harry practice

Bonus shaved version below

[irenespring]

Really I think nothing shouts "my first Presidential election as a politically active person was 2016" more than the fact that when I feel hope and excitement for the future (possible President Harris) for more than five minutes I immediately get a crushing, all-consuming anxiety of "feeling this positive emotion now is going to make it so much worse when the worst thing possible happens" to the extent that I'll probably need my break-glass-in-case-of-emergency anxiety medication.

[severussnapemylove]

(after Poppy refers to Severus as Reader’s boyfriend)

Y/N; “He’s not my boyfriend.”

Poppy; “But I thought…?”

Y/N; “Teenagers have boyfriends. He’s my man.”

[catecorno]

Piss F****t and Fuck The World duo

[bronzeflower]

I'm never going to emotionally recover from this

[ecstarry]

'the one were Regulus reunites with his first kiss' let it be known that this is unrealistically romantic but I love it for them. They deserve it.

The weather was perfect, he tried to remember if the last time he drove around those same streets it was this pleasant. His last visit had been over a decade ago. His parents had said the “demographic had changed,” and it was no longer an area they wanted to be around. His family simply relocated to their other properties for the summer, forgetting all about that home. Regulus, meanwhile, tried to forget all about one boy.

Regulus came back alone. Sirius was tied up with selling another property after their parents passed away. Regulus didn’t explain his particular interest in this location, and Sirius didn’t ask.

He was there to meet with a realtor and to say goodbye to one of his sweetest memories from his youth. When Regulus arrived at the café, he received a message asking to push back the meeting until tomorrow, and he quickly agreed. He knew exactly where he wanted to spend the rest of the day.

The walk from his car to the beach was long, but he was in no rush. Regulus carefully observed the sea. It was winter and nearly sunset; the water wasn’t as bright as the last time he had been there, but it was enough to bring the first rush of memories flooding back.

He was fifteen again, and his brother was introducing him to a handsome boy he had just met. It seemed like the sun had risen that day specifically to make the boy’s eyes shine. He remembered his name and the way their hands felt when they first touched. James. He always regretted not asking for a last name. Regulus closed his eyes and tried to recall the scent. He laughed at himself, knowing it was probably just a mix of sweat, hormones, and sand, but he found it endearing even to this day.

Beautiful hues of red and orange illuminated the sky. Regulus strolled to the pier and watched as the sky painted the same picture it had all those years ago. He took out his wallet and looked at the tiny picture he had kept. It was blurry, probably taken around the same time of day, and showed the silhouette of a boy smiling at him. The sun was behind him, so only the outline of James waving could be seen, but Regulus had never forgotten the exact curve of James’ lips as he took the picture. That summer had been a dream; he had met an angel and tasted heaven with his own lips.

The temperature began to drop, and Regulus took in his last moments at the very spot where he had felt love for the first time. He took out his camera, the same one he had used fifteen years ago, and snapped one last photo, thinking of James again.

He chose a hotel close to the café where he would meet the realtor the next day. It was a small, beautifully preserved place. As he entered, there was only one man ahead of him at the front desk. Tired, Regulus resumed scrolling on his phone when he heard it.

"James is fine."

Wood. The boy he had fallen in love with all those summers ago smelled like sweat, hormones, sand, and wood. Sound and smell held powerful memories, and Regulus learned that firsthand as he tilted his head in what felt like slow motion to look at the back of the boy who was now a man.

"James." The word escaped his lips before he could stop it, just as he had no control over his suddenly racing heartbeat.

The other man turned and dropped his bags. "It's you," he breathed.

"Do you—"

"Regulus," James said, almost as a prayer. "It's you."

James approached him tentatively and smiled. God, that smile—Regulus would’ve recognized it even if another decade had passed. Without a second thought, he took out the photograph he had just looked at and, without worrying about the potential embarrassment, showed it to James.

“It’s you.” James carefully took the picture in his hands, his eyes darting between it and Regulus. After a moment, he handed it back and took a step closer. His hand hovered near Regulus' face, hesitating just before making contact. “May I?”

Regulus nodded.

Just as gently as when they were fifteen, James tucked a single curl behind Regulus' ear.

“It’s been—” Regulus began.

“Fifteen years,” James finished. Their eyes tried to convey everything their lips still couldn’t: I’ve missed you. I never forgot about you. Let me get to know you again.

“Hi,” Regulus said with a quiet chuckle, and James’ eyes softened.

“Can I buy you dinner?”

“I would like nothing more.”

[schofielded]

Spare the rod, you'll spoil the child / But I prefer the lash / My sisters drowned and poisoned / All of me reduced to ash / And buried in an urn / But father, I return / Singing oh, the hazards of love

"The Hazards of Love 3 (Revenge!)" by the Decemberists, The Terror (2018) edition

[alwayshinny]

Happy birthday Lily! 🎂 👑

The first and last birthday she got to spend with her lil man 😭

[k-kizkhalifa]

"So life is good, Harry? Things working out as you want?" Skeeter asked, glancing over her glasses at the man, her Quick-Quotes Quill working away.

Harry, smiling, watched her take a drink of her tea and then opened his arms as if to say this was it, sitting in his studio, serving tea to Rita Skeeter.

"I'm surprised you finally decided to sit down with me," she grinned, a little wicked gleam in her eyes, "but as promised, I'll keep the quips to myself."

He shrugged a shoulder, and relaxed, "do your worst, Skeeter."

The interview went smoothly, even sharing a few laughs - ones from Harry in annoyance more often than not as she tried to pry more private information from him ("we've seen you around with Malfoy? Friends now?" "Whatever happened to that Weasley girl?"), but she knew as the hours dwindled time was running out and she wanted to ask. The readers would be dying to know, when they caught sight of the front page image of Harry Potter just in an apron and jeans, sweating as he worked at the pottery wheel in the morning sun.

"Thank you for the tea, Potter. I do suppose I have one more question, for everyone." Harry gave a nod, waiting. "Why this, after all the work and the accomplishments? Why did you invest here, in this?"

Harry grinned, looking around at everything he made, all of his hard work and quick earned sales that kept him happy, busy, and afloat. Though, he wouldn't tell her that. Instead, he stood and shoved his hands in the pockets of his jeans, "made sense I suppose. Potter a potter."

hope this is okay.... but uh.

@slyssnakes shared this with us, and then I spent all morning thinking about it and wrote this trash. so... anyway. hey go check out their artwork, too much talent not to be admired!

[duplicitywrites]

harry 'good at picking names' potter

“Woss your name?” Stan persisted. “Neville Longbottom,” said Harry, saying the first name that came into his head. “So—so this bus,” he went on quickly, hoping to distract Stan, “did you say it goes anywhere?”

Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban

-

“This is the copy of Advanced Potion-Making that you purchased from Flourish and Blotts?” “Yes,” said Harry firmly. “Then why,” asked Snape, “does it have the name ‘Roonil Wazlib’ written inside the front cover?” Harry’s heart missed a beat. “That’s my nickname,” he said.

Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince

-

“And your first name?” “I—Vernon. Vernon Dudley.” “Check the list, Scabior,” said Greyback, and Harry heard him move sideways to look down at Ron, instead.

Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows

-

Harry crouched down so that Albus’s face was slightly above his own. Alone of Harry’s three children, Albus had inherited Lily’s eyes. “Albus Severus,” Harry said quietly, so that nobody but Ginny could hear, and she was tactful enough to pretend to be waving to Rose, who was now on the train, “you were named for two headmasters of Hogwarts. One of them was a Slytherin and he was probably the bravest man I ever knew.”

Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows

[illarian-rambling]

I can't keep picking Harry's outfits based on stats.... You might be a man with almost nothing, Detective Broke, but style is not one of those nothings!

[toastytrusty]

i really hate the idea that hickey is perfectly at peace with himself and his environment and has no qualms about any of the things he does because he's just so nonchalant about it all. that boy is not nonchalant. he is fighting DEMONS. he is not only constantly lying to everyone around him (and even then it's not like he's Allergic to Not Lying) but he's also lying to Himself. because he is sensitive and effected and hates how bothered he is by it all. he finds ways to justify his actions to himself out of desperation, because he Needs to believe it's okay. he needs to convince Himself it's okay. but it's not okay and he is not okay!!! he is afraid!!! which is why i think his relationship with goodsir is one of the most interesting he has, because through goodsir we see all his little weaknesses and insecurities. goodsir tells him to mind his lashing wounds, because they Are still bothering him, and hickey acts like he's unaffected but he isn't. goodsir doesn't answer hickey's questions and just asks him if his manipulation ever works, because it's all an act and it Doesn't always work and he's scrambling because he has nothing else. goodsir refuses to cut up billy because he knows hickey Does know how, he just doesn't want to, and goodsir doesn't let him hide inside that. he drags out all of hickey's fears and weaknesses and lays them out for both the audience and hickey himself. we see hickey playing his role around guys like tozer or gibson or hodgson but around goodsir he is laid bare and you can Seeee how frantic he really is and how little control he really feels like he has

[eminentzayn]

a hug to 12 year old me who was a fan that couldn't afford concert tickets;

a hug to 23 year old me whose worked hard to fulfill her childhood promise to herself that if they ever reunited, she'd be there, front and center, with the most expensive ticket money can buy;

now, a hug to 25 year old me, the me of today, who has to live with the fact that she'll never witness the magic of an ot5 concert in her life;

i'm truly grieving the places i've never been today.

[seleneprince]

Mulciber: So, are you a boy or a girl?

Sevrina: I'm a fucking mess

[rumpled]

Tom Burke as Blond in Harry Wootfliff's True Things, 2021