#and its either gonna be him or Harris

[hmslusitania]

I just re-encountered my journal entries from election night 2016 and subsequent inauguration night 2017, and

And my god. Ive become inured to that level of existential despair. But the fact that I’ve lived through events where that’s normal is so!!!!!!!! Absolutely fucked

[faunandfloraas]

okay but following rockstar which had (in my opinion) some of the best and coolest concept pictures with the magic school and toy world stuff which, again in my opinion, are some of the most aesthetically displeasing is so 😭

[lastavenged]

@inhcritance liked for a starter from The Hunter (Marvel's Midnight Suns)

An eyebrow raises up, there's almost an inclination even to tilt her head to one side like her hellhound Charlie does when she's intensely curious about something. Quietly she had been watching him, alert to his prescene when he had entered the premise.

The kid, though he is not a kid but what was a twenty year old to a three hundred and twenty year old, seems to be looking for something. The only reason she hadn't deemed him an intruder was because she recognized him from pictures Peter had shown her.

The Abbey had been residence enough to her, but she was working a case and Peter had told her that if it was more convinent when she was in New York to crash at his place. Apparently that offer was extend to more friends than just The Hunter. That's no bother to her, but she's sure Peter will appreciate later that she recalled Harry's face from photos before she attacked him.

❝ What are you looking for? ❞ Announcing her prescene without the thought that could startle him if he wasn't pre-warned there's a half-demon hunter crashing at Peter's place before hand. ❝ You are Peter's friend, Harry, correct? You've done quite a lot of rifling. ❞ As if she hadn't torn the Abbey grounds asunder for all its secrets.

[pedroscurls]

love at last (one-shot)

summary: harry’s never been in love before… until he meets you, which awakens a part of him that he never thought he was capable of.

pairing: harry castillo x fem!reader content warning(s): minor spoilers so please beware!, love at first sight trope, harry is charming and completely smitten, mainly harry POV, harry + reader go on dates!, no use of y/n. word count: 4.6k a/n: i just finished watching materialists and i'm OBSESSED with harry so obviously the next best thing is to write for him. please heed the warnings, there will be a few spoilers mentioned in this story!!! hope you enjoy nonetheless bc i'm gonna be dreaming about harry for a long time (look at those CURLS in that second pic tho jfc 🥵)

Harry had given up on the idea of love. He hadn’t felt it before and he felt like life was just passing him by. Was something wrong with him? Was he just not capable of falling in love—being in love? 

Lucy was a good match for him, but it felt forced. There was a mutual attraction, but something had been missing and he wasn’t sure what it was. 

Not until she said that she didn’t love him. Harry realized at that moment that he didn’t love her either. Lucy said it was supposed to be easy, but he wasn’t sure anymore. He tried Adore’s services, but the matches didn’t feel real, didn’t feel authentic. These women just wanted him for his money, his height, his job. He checked a lot of the women’s boxes—he was a unicorn, which Lucy liked to put it. 

But it never felt easy. He looked at each woman from a business standpoint, something transactional, but Harry yearned for something more. 

Something deep. 

Something real.

So, he canceled his membership and decided that maybe love was just never going to be in the cards for him. 

And maybe that he didn’t need it anyway. 

The dating scene in New York was horrific. To you, it felt like every nice man in the world didn’t exist. All the dates you had been on ended terribly—with some even ending early. 

The men were either too judgmental or too self-centered, or worse—just wanted one thing and one thing only. Was it this hard to find someone nice? You thought maybe you had been too picky, so you lessened your expectations—that didn’t work either. 

So, you decided to stop dating altogether and instead put your focus into work. If the universe wanted you to be in love, then maybe you should just be patient and let life do its own work. 

Harry had felt instant attraction before, but the first time he laid eyes on you it felt like time stood still. You were laughing at something someone said and he felt a flutter at the pit of his stomach. He’s never seen you at any of his family’s parties before, he would have remembered you. 

He ordered a drink at the bar as he glanced at you from the corner of his eye. Your smile was so warm, so kind, so genuine. He normally has this natural confidence in him, but when he saw you walking towards the bar, he straightened up and felt his heart race faster. 

Maybe you were a friend of his sister-in-law, he wasn’t sure. His family’s parties were usually so big that he doesn’t remember who’s who. But he knew that he was definitely going to remember you. 

The party was for his brother and his wife—a baby shower and gender reveal. A year after their wedding and they’re already expecting. 

He felt you stand next to him and then he heard your voice, which only made him even more nervous because you sounded so sweet, so nice. Harry had taken a deep breath and then finally turned his body to face yours, but when your eyes met his own, he felt his stomach do flips. 

“Hi,” you said with a small smile. 

“Hi,” he replied with one of his own. 

“Friend of the family?” you asked. 

Harry shook his head. “Older brother.” 

You widened your eyes and reached out to rest a hand over his forearm—a natural reaction from you. “Oh my god, you’re Harry.” 

Harry looked down at your hand briefly and smiled, nodding in your direction. “That’d be me. Are you friends with my brother or…” 

“I’m friends with Charlotte,” you answered, dropping your hand from his forearm. “I was teaching English abroad so I couldn’t make it to her wedding. I’m just glad I could make it for this event.” 

“Where did you teach?” Harry asked. 

“Philippines,” you smiled brightly. “It was amazing. I loved it there.” 

Harry couldn’t help but smile too. You made him feel comfortable, despite the nerves he was feeling before you walked over. “And now? Are you going back there to teach?” 

You shook your head. “It was only a two year contract. I have my certification now to teach English to non-native English speakers here in the States, so New York is home for now.” 

Harry could hear the passion for your work in your voice and the way your entire face lit up. It was refreshing—talking to someone who actually enjoyed what they did for a living. “So you’re teaching at a school? Elementary?” 

You let out a quiet laugh and shook your head again. “As much as I loved teaching younger kids when I was in the Philippines, my focus now is teaching adult learners. I work at a local community college.” 

Harry smiled to himself. He heard the bartender set your glass of wine next to you and you turned away from him to thank the other man from behind the counter. The same genuine and kind smile lining your lips. 

“You sound like you love your job,” he said. 

“Oh, I do. It’s a lot of work, but it’s so rewarding. I try to tell my students that learning English shouldn’t ever replace their native tongue,” you continued. “That their native language is something to be proud of and that just because they’re learning English doesn’t mean it replaces the language they know and grew up with.” 

“You must be an amazing teacher,” he grinned. 

“I try to be,” you laughed quietly. You could feel your cheeks heating up as you took note of just how handsome he is. You had heard about Harry from your dinners with Charlotte, but she didn’t say how extremely handsome he was or how deep his brown eyes were. 

“And I’m just in private equity,” he sighed teasingly. 

“Well, at least you’re rich,” you laughed quietly. “I bet that’s nice.” 

Harry shrugged. He wondered if this is where the conversation will shift, if the genuine authenticity he felt from you will disappear. “It’s a family business.” 

“Oh, so it’s not what you would have wanted to do?” You asked, taking a sip from your glass. You lean against the counter of the bar and stare up at him. “If it isn’t, what would you have wanted to pursue?” 

Harry tilted his head as he brought his own glass to his lips. He stared at you from the rim of his glass and then dropped his eyes momentarily to look down at his feet. “Not sure. I haven’t really had the chance to even think of what I would want to do if I wasn’t in the family business.” 

“Hm,” you said, eyes looking up at him from top to bottom. “Maybe a model?” 

He grinned. “Are you hitting on me?” 

“And if I am?” you smiled, eyes staring deeply into his own. 

Harry’s brows slightly raised at your forwardness and he glanced off to the side when he heard his name being called. Then, he looked at you and shot you an apologetic look. “Could I get your name?” 

You smiled and shrugged. “Find me later if you really want to find out, Harry.” You turned on your heel and left him at the counter of the bar when the other guests approached Harry. You glanced over your shoulder to see his eyes staring directly at you as he nodded at whatever the other person is saying. 

You and Harry kept stealing glances at each other from across the room. You could see the way his eyes lingered along your frame and you’re already three drinks in and feeling very brave. 

When Charlotte and Peter found out they’re having a boy, the music only became louder and everyone began dancing. Harry’s eyes stayed focused on you as he walked through the crowd straight to you. He sat next to you and smiled to himself, tilting his head in your direction. 

“Will you tell me your name now?” Harry asked.

You smiled and nodded, telling him your name as you turned your body to face his. You drape one of your legs over the other as you set aside your finished glass of wine. 

Harry smiled. “It’s nice to officially meet you,” he nodded.  “Now, would you like to dance?” 

“Oh, I don’t—” 

Harry interrupted you by standing up. He extended a hand out for you and maintained that charming smile. “If I say please, will you reconsider?” 

You bit your lower lip and shook your head, slipping your hand into his own. He helped you to your feet and then led you onto the dance floor. One of his arms snaked around your waist, pulling you closer to him as he kept a tight hold on your hand. You bit your lower lip and moved your free hand to rest on his shoulder. 

Being this close to him was intoxicating—feeling his broad chest remain flush against your own, his deep brown eyes staring directly at you as if you were the only person in the room, and god he smelled so good. You inhaled quietly and let your eyes fall shut, allowing him to lead you through the slow dance. 

“Can I take you out to dinner?” he whispered into your ear. 

You pulled back and opened your eyes to look at him. He’s still fucking smiling. 

“Are you asking me out, Harry?” 

“Would that be a bad thing?” 

You stared into his eyes as you both sway side to side to the song. You had sworn off dating after so many failed dates, but Harry… Well, there was something about him that piqued your interest from the moment you laid eyes on him today. 

“Well, no, but—”

His smile dropped and his eyes softened. “Oh shit, I’m sorry. I didn’t even ask if you were seeing anyone.” 

You could feel his hold around you loosen, but you tightened your grip around his hand and pulled him back flush against you. “I’m not seeing anyone.” 

“Oh,” he nodded slowly. “Okay, great. That’s—That’s great for me,” he chuckles quietly. 

“But I kind of sworn off dating… at least for a while,” you admitted. “Lots of bad dates and I just—”

Harry spun you around and pulled you back into his chest, holding you tighter now. “I’ll take you anywhere you want to go,” he whispered. “Do whatever you want to do… and if after that date you decide you want to officially swear off dating, then I’ll go my own way and you’ll go yours.” 

“You’re charming, you know that?” You smiled, biting the inside of your cheek. 

Harry shrugged, though a large grin lined his lips. “So, is that a yes?” 

“Okay, one date.” 

“One date is all I need,” he smiled, kissing your cheek and holding you firmly against him as he continued to dance with you. 

On your first date with Harry, he had taken you to one the finest restaurants in New York. It had taken you by surprise and you felt very out of your element. You weren’t used to dates like this. He was very chivalrous—he showed up with flowers, opened doors for you, pulled out your seat, and even offered his coat when he noticed you were getting cold. 

And the conversation came easy. He made you laugh and you made him blush. How could someone like him be single? When he reached for your hand during the walk around the park, you looked up at him and found him smiling in your direction. 

He didn’t kiss you on the lips when he brought you back home. Harry had just cupped your cheek, whispered that he had a great time, and kissed your forehead. It was the simplest gesture, nothing too grand or over the top, but you felt your stomach flutter with butterflies. 

Then, you asked him out for a second date. He was grinning—dimples deep in his cheek as his hand dropped from your cheek to wrap around your waist. His strong embrace filled you with so much warmth, so much anticipation because for some strange reason, it felt like you belonged there. In his arms. 

He insisted that he take you out to one of his favorite restaurants and you agreed with a smile. Harry kissed your cheek that same night before walking back to his car. He waited until you were inside before driving away. 

On the second date, Harry wanted to surprise you. He took you to a sushi restaurant—something more casual, but still romantic nonetheless. He rented out the entire small restaurant just for the both of you. The look of surprise on his face made him feel proud, more confident that maybe you wanted to date him more exclusively. 

Harry enjoyed spending time with you and how you had always given him your sole attention and focus. It even brought a smile to his face at just how kind you were to everyone you encountered. During the date, you were intrigued and interested in how the head sushi chefs were making the food. 

It was such an intimate setting and it felt easy. Harry had to wonder if this was what Lucy said a year ago—love should be easy. With the right person, love can be the easiest thing in the world. 

Throughout the date, you were becoming more touchy. A hand on his forearm or leaning against him as you let out a laugh that wracked your entire body. Even after the date when you both were walking around the same park again, he had taken your hand and you laced your fingers with his. Then, he felt your head rest against his shoulder and it made the flutter in his stomach more noticeable. 

When he dropped you off at your front door, you had stared up at him with your big eyes and he wanted nothing more than to pull you into him and press his lips against yours. 

But Harry didn’t. He wanted to respect you and your boundaries. You were playing with the lapel of his jacket before gripping it and pulling him against you. Harry’s hands had darted out to rest on your hips—to steady you, to ground himself. 

“Are you gonna ask to kiss me, Harry?” you had whispered. 

Harry’s lips parted as he stared into your eyes. The grip on the hips tightened and he gave you a single nod. He had taken a step forward, eyes completely dark and filled with desire. “Just wanted to make sure you were comfortable.” 

You smiled and moved your hands to play with the hair at his nape, the curls at the back of his head. You leaned in—just enough for the tip of your nose to brush against his. Harry inhaled sharply. 

“If you don’t kiss me now, Harry, I’m gonna think you don’t like me.” 

Harry tilted his head and leaned forward, nudging your nose with his own. “Well, we can’t have that, can we?” He moved one of his hands to your cheek and leaned in to press his lips firmly against your own. He remembered how soft and warm your lips were, the sound of a quiet whimper escaping you, and the way his heart was racing. Harry hadn’t felt like this before—how even when he wasn’t around you, all he could do was think about you, or how the butterflies in the pit of his stomach fluttered whenever he saw your name flash across his phone. 

It also made him feel special whenever you were together. You were kind and generous to strangers, but he always felt like the luckiest person whenever your attention was shifted to him. This was only the second date and Harry found himself wanting this to be more exclusive as the date continued. 

The kiss lasted only a few more seconds—the both of you getting carried away before you pulled away from him. Harry remembered the look on your face. The small smile that lined your lips, the way your arms had loosely wrapped around his shoulders, your eyes gazing repeatedly down to his lips like you wanted more. Needed more. 

“Where do you want to go for our third date?” he asked, whispering quietly as he brushed his lips with yours.

“How about I plan it?” you replied, pursing your lips to capture his own in a gentle kiss. 

“Yeah?” Harry asked, dropping his hand from your cheek to join his other at your lower back. He laced his fingers and pulled you flush against him, the feeling of your body heat radiating against his own awakening something deep inside of him. Yearning. Desire. Need. 

“Yeah,” you nodded. “Let me take you out this time.” 

Harry smiled. He had always been the one to plan the dates, to cater to the other person that he was slightly taken aback at your offer. It made him feel giddy, excited at the possibility of what you would plan. “Okay,” he answered. “I’ll let you take me out this time.” 

“Good,” you smiled and pecked his lips. “I’ll see you then?”

Harry nodded, but pulled you back into a deep kiss. This time—it was intense, more intimate, urgent. His lips moved with your own and his hands drifted lower until the tips of his fingers rested just above your ass. He wanted to reach down and squeeze, but he didn’t. Not yet, he told himself. Not yet. 

“I’ll see you then, baby.”

On the third date, you had told him to dress casually. He called you just before he was about to pick you up, asking just how casual he was supposed to dress. You had smiled to yourself and told him casual enough to the point where he wouldn’t care if his clothes would get wrinkled. 

So, when he picked you up—dressed in a pair of jeans and a white t-shirt with sneakers, you practically wanted to pull him back into your apartment. The date could wait a little longer. You loved seeing him in a suit—had gotten used to seeing him dressed so formally—but seeing him like this, so relaxed and casual just made him sexier. 

“This casual enough?” he asked, presenting you with another bouquet of flowers. 

“You look hot,” you complimented and leaned in to peck his lips. He smiled when you pulled away and then took your hand to lead you outside of your apartment. 

“So…” you told him. “We’re having a picnic.”

Harry grinned and pulled you close to him. You hadn’t yet closed the door to your apartment, but he leaned in and pressed his lips eagerly against your own. Without hesitation, he had moved his lips with yours, hand moving to rest on your hip. “A picnic sounds nice.”

He didn’t know what to expect, but he certainly didn’t expect to be lying on a large blanket with you next to him. You both were looking up at the clear, blue sky talking about something so random. He felt his heart skip a beat when he heard you laugh—it filled his senses until all he could hear was you and how happy you looked. He wondered if this was what other couples felt like, if this is what they would normally do—have a picnic in the park, eat some food, then lie down in each other’s arms just embracing each other’s company. 

When your laughter died down, Harry had moved to rest his hand on your cheek. You stared up at him, the smile still remaining on your lips. He felt like he could sense what you were thinking about, communicating with you through his eyes. 

His thumb had brushed against your lower lip and he leans in, pecking your lips lightly. 

“Can I ask you something?” Harry whispered. He felt the nerves begin to build and looked away from you for a moment. It wasn’t until you replied with a soft and quiet yes that he looked back at you.

“Would you want to date more exclusively? More seriously?” he asked in a rush. Harry’s eyes softened and the smile on your lips never faltered. 

“I’d like that,” you answered instantly. “I’d like that a lot actually.”

“Really?” 

“Really,” you repeated. 

Harry let out a sigh of relief and leaned in to press his lips against yours again. Your arms wrapped around his shoulders as you lay on your back with him propping himself on his side to kiss you. He felt a huge weight lift off his shoulders—he couldn’t help but feel extremely overjoyed and happy that the feeling was mutual. 

Almost six months later and now in a fully committed relationship with you, Harry finally understands what Lucy meant—love was supposed to be easy… and loving you felt like second nature to him.

You had been spending most days at his penthouse. There’s already a space in his closet for you and extra counter space in the bathroom. You manage to make this place a home—he’d come home and you’d be there in the kitchen, making dinner. Or on some nights, he’d catch you grading some papers. This felt easy. Being with you was easy. 

Harry knew that he loved you the moment he laid eyes on you. It’s cliche—he knows—but every time he’s around you, his heart races. When he sees you smile or hears you laugh, it makes his stomach do flips. And when he’s holding you in his arms, his life feels complete—like the one thing that had been missing in his life is now here with him. 

He hadn’t yet said he loved you because he wanted to do it right. He wanted it to be perfect. Harry had an entire date planned—he was going to take you out to the same restaurant from your first date. Take you for a walk around the park afterwards and then, he’d tell you how much he loves you. It was going to be romantic—something to remember for the rest of his days, but that morning… His entire plan was thrown out the window. 

You were in his kitchen, dressed in one of his shirts, making breakfast. Harry had gotten used to this, but for some reason, that morning, he felt his breath catch in his throat. The sun shone through his large windows, illuminating you in a warm glow. He was dressed in a pair of sleep pants and a worn t-shirt as he stared at you, a smile slowly lining his lips. 

He walked over to you and watched as your eyes moved from the pan and over to him. Harry bit his lower lip at the sight of your broad smile. You dropped the spatula and walked over to him, wrapping your arms loosely around his shoulders as you pecked his lips lightly.

“I was going to surprise you with breakfast in bed,” you said. “Since you always like to surprise me, I figured I could return the favor this time.”

Harry chuckled and allowed his arms to wrap loosely around your waist. He held your body firmly against his own as he leaned forward to rest his forehead against yours. “Why are you so good to me?” he asked quietly, hand coming up to rest on your cheek. 

“Hmm,” you answered. “Maybe because I really like you.” 

Harry grinned and pulled back to look into your eyes. His thumb brushed against your cheek as he tilted his head. “Yeah?” 

You nodded, leaning against his touch. “Yeah,” you answered. “Consider yourself lucky, Mr. Castillo.”

Harry’s eyes narrowed as he reached behind you to turn off the stove. He lifted you off your feet to set you on top of the kitchen counter, moving his hands to rest at either side of you. He moved to stand between your legs as he felt your hands move to card through his hair. 

“I am,” he whispered quietly. “Very lucky.” His eyes stared deeply into your own. His heart felt like it was beating out of his chest—the nerves slowly beginning to build as those three words settled on the tip of his tongue. There was a tense silence that filled the air and it was almost like you could anticipate what Harry was about to say next. 

Your hands moved to his cheeks, feeling the bristles of hair underneath your fingertips. You leaned down to kiss the tip of his nose as his hands moved from the edges of the counter to his rest on your hips. 

“Baby,” he said softly. 

“Harry,” you replied. 

“I’m in love with you,” he blurted out as he pulled back just enough to look into your eyes. “I thought I’d never be capable of love. It just always seemed so difficult for me, but you—loving you is easy.” Harry couldn’t help the tears that build in his deep brown eyes. The way you were looking at him now eased so much of the nerves and worry that he felt. “You make me feel—baby,” he sighed—his breath catching in his throat as he brought a hand up to wipe the fallen tear that trickled down his cheek once he blinked.

“Hey…” you whispered, kissing his cheek lightly. “I’m in love with you too, Harry.” 

He pulled back. Eyes wide, features etched with shock. “You make me feel good,” Harry continued. “Valuable. Seen. Heard. Special. Every moment spent with you is always better than the last, and when I’m apart from you, I’m always counting the minutes until I can see you again.” He let out a shaky breath as he leaned in to rest his forehead against yours. His nose brushed against yours as he whispered, “I love you. I think I loved you the first time I saw you.” 

“God, I forgot how charming you are,” you teased, hands moving to his shoulders as you slowly wrapped your arms around him. “You made me believe in love again, Harry. I’m so glad I said yes when you asked me out… and to think, I could have missed out on this, on you.” Leaning in, you pecked his lips lightly. “And loving you is easy too. You make me feel safe and I’ve never felt that before… with anyone.”

Harry smiled and gently pulled you off the counter, your legs easily sliding around his waist as he walked you both to the large couch. He sat down with you on his lap as he brought a hand up to your cheek. “Move in with me?” 

“Didn’t you know?” You smiled, leaning in to brush your lips with his. “I was slowly beginning to move my things in anyway,” you grinned. 

Harry chuckled, firmly pressing his lips against your own. “I love you, baby,” he mumbled. “So much.” 

“Mmm,” you smiled, pulling away briefly. “Gonna show me how much?” 

His eyes darkened instantly and he wrapped his arms around your waist to swiftly lie you on your back against the couch. Harry settled himself between your legs as he leaned back in—eagerly pressing his lips along your jawline down to the side of your neck. 

“Oh, baby, you know I will,” he grinned against you, peppering light kisses against your neck. 

The feeling of his stubble tickled your skin, causing a fit of giggles to escape your lips. He smiled to himself and pulled away from you briefly to look into eyes. 

“I love you,” he whispered, a content smile lining his lips. 

“I love you too, Harry. Now get back here and kiss me,” you giggled, linking your hands together at the nape of his neck and pulling him back down to press your lips with his. 

Harry smiled against your lips—contentment, relief, and happiness filling his entire soul. 

Lucy forgot to mention that loving was only easy if it was with the right person. 

And you—you were the right person for him. 

[halo-chainsaw]

Shut up i'm talking patreon only 7$!!!!!

The patreon podcast is out, and I have just finished listening to it!

I decided to write down some notes for those who are interested but do not have the patreon. It's a long one, but I picked out what I thought would be important + silly moments here n there

Podcast is recorded the morning of Dream's video (I'm sorry but not to Tommyinnit)

Tommy called his mom about the situation first, discussing about how it was awful (pre reddit post)

Harry wrote the "you can call me anything but do not call me poor" LOL

Tommy didn't watch the dream stream but read a synopsis, and he said that was enough

He's spoken to Dream privately several times (starting 2023), all his friends told him that dream was taking advantage of him, but he wanted to give him the benefit of the doubt

He has told dream to change how he acts, and dream has refused. Has had conversations like this multiple times.

Told dream in a conversation he was no longer speaking to him and was no longer talking to him after he talked to his mom. Was previously ignoring him but blocked him outright.

After his dream v quackity sketch dream sent him awful and mean messages.

Jack and Tommy are pissed off about people saying to "resolve it privately". They have tried multiple times to solve things privately, but Dream will take things public.

Jack had a 2 hour long call with dream on jack's DADS BIRTHDAY??? and it was about why he didn't like dream, and about dream's allegations.

the "Jack mentions Dream" account bothers Jack since its a bunch of indirect things, and him responding to messages rather than him just bringing Dream up.

Dream says Jack spreads rumors about him.

Jack does not think dream is a p*dophile, but he finds the situation(s) he was in wildly inappropriate.

Dream showed everyone his evidence against the grooming allegations in the DreamSMP discord. Jack said he told Dream it weirded him out, because either way, he was still messaging a fan, and it pissed Dream off.

Jack flat out calls Dream "stupid".

He's very pissed about the "unfaithful" rumor, and he's very vocal about it for a minute.

Jack reiterates the editor story with the 50 quid

They point out how the Dream ignores the George and Caiti situation, along with clipping Tubbo out of context.

"I can't believe he thought he could win by just lying. Especially when you've got a reputation of lying." -Jack (paraphrased/two different sentences put together)

Tommy says the video were for him, not everyone else. Makes a jab about Dream unable to use media literacy.

Tommy says Dream knows what he's talking about when he refers to misogyny. That there's so much more behind the scenes, that it's miserable.

Tommy says he doesn't want to do any of this anymore, that it's pointless. He says Youtube doesn't make him happy, that he doesn't fit in, and he wants to be done. He will still be posting to Youtube because he loves making videos, but he doesn't want to be part of the Youtube sphere/culture. He wants to be a proper comedian.

"I might as well go down sayin' what I fuckin' mean." -Tommy

brings up the "putting others down", Tommy reiterates how he's been very kind/warm to everyone, but if someone famous is being an asshole he's gonna make a joke about it. "That's what I've done with Logan, done to you, and what I'm going to continue to do."

Tommy calls him one of the most self indulgent and exhausting people he's ever met.

Brings up Dream calling him the internet police, he says that he's just sick of the bullshit. "When I see it, say it."

Tommy reiterates he can't do this much longer, that it's all pointless. Dream is just doing what he's been doing for years. He is not proud of dream and he doesn't respect him. Tells him straight to "Fuck off".

Tommy would talk to Jack, unsure if what was happening with Dream was odd/bad or not. He's a little relieved that it's in the public eye now.

Jack talks about how everyone on the server is talking against him, that no one is defending him. They've all known he's awful.

Tommy says he felt close to Dream, so he struggled with seeing the bad actions he had done. He felt skewed/manipulated.

Tommy tells a story about back when he was 14, he would annoy people in Hypixel by lobby spamming. One day he heads into a streamer's chat that he looked up to and said hello. the streamer, who was about 20 at the time, tore into him, calling him the R slur and many other horrible things. He said he felt heartbroken and shaken up. "Shit like this just happens along the way, and it's miserable, but like- for me, I just keep remindin' myself "this isn't the first time I've done this"."

Jack tried to make his disassociation as public as possible, he had told Dream to his face (during the allegations) in the DreamSMP discord that he did not want to be associated with him anymore.

Talks about how people still group DreamSMP members with Dream, and how they think every member is bad due to Dream's actions, and he's tired of it.

He doesn't like how public everything is, but he's glad people can finally see that they don't like Dream.

Tommy, from now on, is telling everyone how he feels. He's going to be blatant. (if that's what i understood from a comment he made)

Jack is still shocked that Dream chose that moment of all things to jump in. They have made comments here and there but Dream never said anything.

Jack talks about a part in his stream where he says something along the lines of "I'd understand this type of outburst if we had been bullying im for weeks and weeks. But we haven't been. Nor would that make it okay." And then someone on twitter said "Jack just admitted that they'd been bullying Dream non stop for weeks and he's proud of it!!!!" Jack says he can't believe people's ability to misinterpret.

Tommy saw Tubbo dissecting Dream's stream for 7 hours and knew that was the point it was becoming ridiculous.

Jack blatantly calls out how Dream uses manipulation tactics in how he speaks to the public. Tommy calls it painful for him to watch because it's what Dream had done to him and others in private.

Jack goes back to Dream's stream, talking about their phone call together, about how it was disingenuous and weird to bring up publicly. He says there are things he can't talk about publicly that formed his opinion.

"I just think he's like an impossibly self-indulgent, selfish man, who thinks everyone's on his own time." -Tommy

Jack thought Dream was purposefully being negligent in the way he would speak, and while he still is, he is seeing that a lot of it also comes from Dream not being able to pick up on social cues and norms. Though, he also reiterates that it doesn't excuse his awful behavior.

"I don't get how he can't listen to anyone else." -Tommy

Both of them have talked to Dream multiple times about how he acts and he never listens. Not even just them, they say "We all have really tried", which implies more members of the SMP or other personal friends.

"He doesn't seem to feel very much empathy for the pain he's caused, and if I was in his shoes- I don't know where his guilt is." -Tommy

They talk about his inability to apologize and how they can't understand it. Tommy gets a little heated. Dream has given them empty apologies and goes to do the same things again. They talk about how he doubles down over and over until no one sides with him, that's when he apologizes.

Jack calls Dream dismissive, and how its obvious that he doesn't care.

Tommy implores the audience to not imagine these dramas as Youtubers doing it, but to imagine their friends doing these things. Youtubers are not above others, there's no difference. The only difference is responsibility.

Jack points out how it's odd that they decide to post these things. It shows that they just double down on their awful actions.

Tommy ends by saying he doesn't want to continue this, but if there are things that need to be said then they will be, but on the Patreon.

Jack says he is done as well, that he's done with all his serious points, but he will be making jokes here and there. He won't be joking about rumors, but things that actually happened.

"Anyway, back to writing!" "Guys, let's all get back to coding."

[w2soneshots]

Hiya could you do a w2s one shot where reader tends to get anxious in big crowds so like a sidemen party situation, and as a way to indicate that to harry, they either link their pinky with his or brush his hand so he can take them outside for some fresh air for a little while and prevent them getting overwhelmed??

I’ve got you -W2S

words: 1.3k+

warnings: angst, protective harry, talk of anxiety, alcohol consumption, the boys are cuties.

summary: you and Harry go on a night out with the sidemen and the side girls to celebrate you buying a house, though it doesn’t go exactly how you thought it would.

notes: hi! I combined this with another request that’s a little more of him being protective (🤭), hope you don’t mind🫶🏼. Who doesn’t love a bit of angsty comfort, hehe. Enjoy!!🥂✨ (this is also written in second person because I’ve decided -155 fics deep- that I like it more😅)

"Almost ready to go love?" Your long term boyfriend, Harry, asked after popping his head into one of your spare rooms, that you newly converted into your dressing room, the other being his office.

"Yup," You responded with a soft smile, "I'm just gonna pick out some shoes. I'll be two seconds." He nodded before replying, "Oki dokie!" Then he swiftly heading downstairs.

The sound of you coming down the steps filled the house just a few minutes later. "Gosh, we really need to get some more furniture, everything echoes," Harry noted as you joined him in the kitchen.

You'd made the step of moving into your own home together just two weeks ago. Though it felt like no time at all. After spending years living with the two Cals you collectively decided that you were ready and it made sense since you'd been together for so many years.

"Agreed, though we don't really need to rush. Let's make it really... us." You had the basic stuff but no real decoration, meaning it felt a little bit empty.

Tonight you're going out with the usual sidemen group. The girls organised a little 'congrats on buying a house' party -which was kinda just an excuse to meet up and have some fun- and since the sidemen's schedule was so busy you were all only just getting around to it.

You decided to be the designated driver for tonight since you couldn't really be arsed with the whole 'getting leathered' thing, even though the night out was technically for you and Harry. Which meant Harry could drink as much as he'd like, though he wouldn't, because he never did when he was with you... just in case.

"Everything okay?" Harry asked softly as you drove, a concerned expression covering his features as his hand made its way to your thigh. "Hm? Yeah. Just... just a little anxious- and don't ask me why because I don't know," you replied, eyes flickering from him and then back to the road.

"Okay," he replied calmly then turned on the playlist that he made you for your birthday last year. You giggled and any worries floated away, as the music distracted you completely. He always knew what you needed.

Just a few minutes later you arrived outside of the club. You parked the car around back and then walked hand in hand towards the entrance.

"Gosh, it's loud as fuck in here!" You had to push yourself onto your tiptoes and yell into Harry's ear for him to hear you over the booming music. He agreed with a look of annoyance and a firm nod.

"Hi!" Talia shrieked when she spotted you, instantly pulling you into a hug. "You smell incredible," you complemented as you parted. "Simon got me... god, what's it called! I don't know, anyway, a new perfume for my birthday. I love it," she replied before ushering you over to the table, leaving Harry with the boys.

As Faith was showing you the pictures she'd taken of Olive -her face covered in orange pasta sauce- just before she left, Harry came over. "You alright sweetheart?" He asked, already a few beers deep and clearly not bothered about the girls surprised looks over the nickname (that he only uses behind closed doors).

"Yeah, thanks babe," you replied reassuringly. "Okay, I'm just over there if you need me." He pointed to the bar where Simon and Ethan were sat, laughing so hard they were close to spilling the drinks in their hands. You nodded slowly and sat watching as he waited a moment before reluctantly leaving.

"That boy loves you y/n," Faith said into your ear. You couldn't help but smile. He really did, and you loved him just as much.

An hour or two later the groups had merged and were now all sat around the long table, one side a cushioned booth, the other chairs, though the boys sat laughing at one end while the girls listened to Freya's captivating gossip at the other.

"I'm just gonna go to the bathroom," you whispered to Talia, who sat next to you, you took a sip of your -nonalcoholic- drink before sliding out of the booth. Unbeknownst to you, your boyfriend was carefully watching as you weaved through the crowd of sweaty, dancing individuals.

Just before you got to the toilets you felt a hand grab your arm from behind. You turned quickly and your stomach dropped. At first you assumed it was a fan. They'd sometimes get a little too close for comfort when they were drunk. Though you weren't sure this was the case.

A tall-ish man stood in front of you, he had a scraggly beard and smelt like cigarettes. "Hello dear, would you like to come home with me?" He babbled drunkenly, reaching his hand out to touch your waist. "Uh-" before you could form a response or move a loud "excuse me mate!" Was heard behind him before the guy was firmly pushed aside, making him groan as he stumbled into a table.

Your eyes widened in shock, then your heart began to race. The room started to spin and your vision- "hey," Harry's soft, soothing voice filled your ears. You scrambled to grab his pinky finger, something you'd started to subconsciously do whenever you were feeling overwhelmed and needed out of a situation.

He glanced down and then snapped into action "It's okay, I've got you. Let's go get some air." He put his arm around you and lead you outside. All the while the boys were stood around the creep, JJ shouting something inaudible -but definitely not kind- at him.

You let out a breath you didn't realise you were holding in when the cool London air hit your skin. Harry waited patiently for you to say something, his hand still on your shoulder.

"Considering you hate confrontation, that was impressive," you finally said. He chuckled, feeling instantly relieved that you seemed alright. "I don't know where it came from. He was a weirdo and when he tried to touch you-" "I know," you interrupted him, voice hushed, "thank you."

Ethan had gotten security and the guy was escorted out. You didn't want some idiot to ruin your fun night out with your friends so you decided to rejoin the group.

"You good?" Tobi asked kindly as you and Harry re-approached the table. You nodded with a smile. Though you were still a little bit shaken up you knew you were fine and Harry's hand -that was gently rubbing circles on your hip- was reassuring you.

The rest of the night was spent laughing and drinking, meaning the prior events were soon forgotten. You and Harry were one of the first to call it a night. You thanked the girls for organising everything and said your goodbyes to the boys.

Harry had always been a heavyweight so he didn't really seem very drunk at all. You both hopped into the car and enjoyed the comfortable silence during the drive home. After being in a loud club, talking to your friends all night, your social batteries were drained.

Within half an hour of getting home you'd both gotten unready, taken quick showers and climbed into bed. You let out a tired sigh as Harry wrapped his arms around you, your head snuggled into his chest.

"I feel we can never just enjoy events. It's like I always ruin everything," you said quietly, opening your mind and telling him your thoughts. He shifted so that he could look at your face.

"You don't ruin anything," he replied surely, "I hate going places without you, I need you with me. It's so normal to be anxious love." His fingers rand up and down your side slowly.

You smiled up at him, tears lining your lash line. "I love you," you whispered -so quietly you weren't sure if he'd even heard- after digging your head into his neck. He placed a kiss to the top of your head. "I love you too."

[sunskisser]

Hi, i wanted to request a james potter x reader thingy :))

So the idea is that james and reader broke up during hogwarts/directly after because they had the children talk, james really wants to be a father but reader is terrified of pregnancy so they break up. But over the years the reader keeps yearning for james and eventually they meet again when james and lily are together and have baby harry and its just really angsty 😭😭

Hope all of this makes sense i thought of this while listening to a song lyric

thank you for the request babe i love how your brain works <3 this is quite angsty so hopefully you like it! and now i’m curious to know what song 👀

also here’s some shameless promotion for @astonishment’s series with the same name, it’s deliciously tragic (☹️☹️☹️) and everyone should check it out!!

in another life | j.p.

“Calm down, babe,” Sirius mutters as you walk in step, looping his arm through yours.

You nibble on your bottom lip anxiously, sighing as you glance over at him. “It’s not that easy, Siri. I’m seeing him after what — four years? I can’t just calm down!”

He rolls his eyes, reaching towards you and thumbing at your lip to save it from your torment. “You’re seeing me after four years.”

You turn to Sirius, and he huffs out a laugh at your deadpan expression. “Well, you never asked me to marry you.”

Sirius wiggles his eyebrows, his lips curving up into a grin. “Marry me?”

“Fuck off, Black.”

James and Lily Potter were holding a meet-up of sorts, and had invited most people in your year at Hogwarts. You were hesitant to go, given your history with James, but Sirius insisted you tag along. You knew he, Remus, and Peter had stayed in touch with James. Rightfully, you ought to have too. But neither of you tried to; maybe you both knew it was better that way.

Sirius simpers, coming to a halt in front of the large black gates of the mansion. He reaches forward and begins to twist the lock, and you instinctively reach over and grab his hand to stop him. He turns to you, confusion twisting his features. “What are you — oh. Oh, sweetheart.”

He softens when he sees the expression on your face. You’re biting your cuticles, and the anxiety in your features is palpable. Sirius sighs and firmly pulls your hand away from your mouth, intertwining your fingers together. “It’s gonna be okay. Just be cordial with him. There’s no bad blood, right?”

“Right,” you mutter, albeit uncertainly.

“But, um…” he sighs, dropping your hand to rake his fingers through his hair. “There’s something I should’ve told you before. But I didn’t wanna freak you out.”

“What?”

The apprehension in your tone causes Sirius to wince. “James and Lily, they… they’ve got a baby.”

There’s a beat of loud silence as the fact sinks in, a mount of uncertainty and hurt settling in the pit of your stomach.

“Oh.”

You’re trying not to show it, but the heartbreak on your face is painfully obvious. Sirius pouts, moving to take your hand again. “Babe, I’m sorry. I should’ve –”

He doesn’t get the chance to finish his sentence, the gates swinging open to reveal a beaming James Potter.

“Pads,” he grins immediately, eyes locking on Sirius as he moves towards him and swoops him into a quick hug.

You take the moment to look James over. He looked exactly like you remembered — messy curls, toned biceps, that movie-star grin. Yet something felt different, in the way he pulled Sirius into a hug without all the raucous fervour he would’ve at 16, how he held him so gently at arm’s length while talking to him. He’d softened, you realised, from the responsibilities of fatherhood and being a husband.

They pull apart a moment later, and his gaze drifts to you. His smile loses a bit of its sunshine, not softening but not quite dimming either. “Y/n, hey.”

There’s a moment of hesitation as he looks at you, but then he seems to decide upon giving you a hug too.

“Hi,” you mutter as he shortens the distance between you, needling his arms under yours to press them to your back. You embrace him in return, and a sudden pang of hurt shoots through your heart at the familiarity of the action.

Perhaps he was remembering it too, from the way he tightened his grip. Both of you were heavy on physical touch, and it was undeniably the best part of your relationship back in Hogwarts — how he’d always have a hand wrapped around your waist, how you’d wake up to cuddles and hugs every morning. You didn’t exactly have anyone to hug anymore, living alone.

So you convince yourself that the reason you hold on to James for slightly longer than necessary was because you craved human touch, not because of… anything else.

Finally, James pulls away, his arms dropping to his sides as he gives you a small smile. You plaster one onto your face too, for his sake. “So,” he starts as he turns around, beginning to lead you and Sirius into the mansion, “how’ve you been, Y/n?”

You can feel Sirius’ gaze burning holes into the side of your head, but choose to ignore him. “I’ve been great, yeah. You?”

James nods. “That’s cool. Yeah, I’ve been good too. Things have been fun, but kind of busy; you know, with work and Lily and the baby…” He seems to realise what he’s said, and clears his throat awkwardly. Oh, of course. The baby.

Sirius is beside you in an instant, arching his eyebrows and nudging your elbow to respond.

“Oh, um… congrats on the baby, by the way.”

James turns around to face you as you walk, and you give him a grin to prove that you’re being genuine — to show him that it didn’t feel like there was a knife being twisted in your gut every time the word baby was brought up.

His eyes soften, and you know he can tell how you’re feeling. But he gives you a grateful smile, and says no more as the three of you come to a stop in front of the house.

“By the way,” James mutters as he pushes the door open, “you guys are like, an hour early. You’re the only ones here.”

You immediately turn around to glower at Sirius for subjecting you to more torture than necessary by bringing you early. But he all but smirks as he follows you in.

Your eyes coast around the mansion, taking it all in. It’s decorated in a minimalist aesthetic, white couches and brown rugs. It was pretty, that was for sure; but you couldn’t help but think how different it was from James’ place in the dorm — posters and stickers all over the walls, boisterously red curtains and LED lights. It used to be so full of life.

Honestly, you might’ve guessed an old couple lived here, if not for the small signs of their life as a family — the pacifier on the dining table, a cradle at the far end of the living room, and the heart-shaped photo frames lining the walls.

James watches you, a small smile playing on the edges of his lips. “You like it?”

He knows you wouldn’t like it, it’s everything you aren’t. Your dorm had been just like his; trying to fit as many vinyls and posters onto that small space next to your bed as possible. There would be fairy lights in every corner and succulents on the nightstand, a dreamcatcher which he’d gifted you hanging right above your bed. You were messy, as a person, and with your love too. You thought he was messy as well; but apparently he’d gotten his shit together already.

“Yeah, it’s simple. Pretty.”

“Honey —“ Lily bustles out the kitchen, a small gasp escaping her lips as she sees you and Sirius. She’s holding a ladle in one hand, and has her other arm wrapped around a baby perched on her waist.

You don’t register it when she kisses your cheek and hugs you, asks you how you’re doing and leads you to sit on the couch. Your gaze is locked on the baby, every second spent staring at him worsening the nauseous feeling at the back of your throat.

You must’ve asked for his name, because the word, “Harry,” registers in your head. This beautiful baby, with Lily’s deep green eyes and James’ luscious curls, was Harry.

Would you have named your baby Harry? Probably not, it was too generic. But it was too late now, to pick out names and choose a less boring aesthetic for a house together.

You had lost your chance back in seventh year, that night when you were laying on James’ bed, limbs tangled together as he raked his hands through your hair with all the love in the world. You’re gonna be my husband one day, you’d whispered, feeling so much affection for him you thought your heart would burst. Yeah, baby, he’d replied with a soft smile. We’re gonna live in a mansion, with our dogs and children and —

Children?

I don’t… I don’t want children. And that’s where it all started going downhill, that’s the moment James’ smile turned upside down and his hand dropped from your hair. It had turned into an argument, a screaming match — and eventually a reason to break up. James couldn't understand much you feared it, the pain of pregnancy and the exhaustion that came with motherhood. And some part of you knew that you weren’t blameless either — calling him awful things and accusing him of not loving you; though love was all he ever gave till the day you told him it was over.

The feeling of Sirius’ nails digging into your palm brings you back to the present, and you see him nodding absentmindedly as Lily rambles about how much trouble Harry’s been, and oh, she’s picked up a hobby of crocheting, and…

You flit your eyes to look at James sitting opposite you, gazing at you with his brows pinched in concern. Your emotions must’ve been obvious on your face, then. But he immediately looks away when Lily calls out to him, holding up Harry for him to carry.

You watch silently as James squeezes into the chair next to his wife, taking the small, lovely baby between his large, calloused hands. He smiles at Harry, looking at him though he was the most precious thing on earth. James’ fingers bunch Harry’s tiny shirt as he brings him close to his face, gently pressing a kiss to his forehead. Lily’s head lolls onto James’ shoulder as he shifts Harry into a comfortable lying position in his arms.

There you have it. The perfect family, with the gorgeous wife and the adorable baby and the man who could’ve been yours if you wanted.

It’s too much for you to take, and Sirius squeezes your hand as you start to shake. Harry coos, and you melt at how James’ face breaks into a sunny beam. He tilts his head to press a soft peck to his wife’s hair, and there’s so much love in that simple gesture that you feel like you could die.

You feel Sirius’ worried gaze on you, your hands trembling and your knee bobbing up and down. The taste of blood from how hard you’re nibbling on your lip is grounding; it brings you back to yourself, who you are, and not who you could’ve been.

“Hey,” he murmurs softly from beside you, but it doesn’t get lodged into your brain. The only thing you feel is your vision of the perfect family blurring, soft streams of regret rolling down your cheek. Sirius makes a small noise of pity from beside you, and James looks up instantly, eyes widening as they lock on you. Lily is fast asleep, baby Harry staring at you with his thumb stuck into his mouth.

“Y/n, you okay?” James asks gently, but you don’t reply, still looking at him with that distraught look on your face. You open your mouth, but you don’t seem to have the vocabulary to express the heartache you felt right that moment. It felt strangely like grief; like you were mourning for the version of yourself you never got to meet, for the version of James who didn’t have the chance to be yours.

James' mouth twists downwards in a frown as he stands up and steps closer towards you. It’s like an alarm is set off in your head, and you immediately jolt back to the present, sucking in a deep breath.

Your legs act of their own accord as you stand up, Sirius’s hand falling limp on the couch as he looks up at you in surprise. You gulp down the lump in your throat and fiercely brush the tears away, James coming to a halt in front of you. “Y/n, baby —“

“I’m not your baby.”

James slaps a hand to his mouth, eyes as wide as Harry’s now. “Fuck, no, it — it just came out. I didn’t mean to. Shit, you’re crying.”

“I’m okay,” you warble. James opens his mouth to retort but you don’t let him, knowing that the longer you spent here, the more the gaping hole in your chest would grow. You couldn’t bear it anymore, watching James with his wife and wishing it was you instead. The worst part was that it was all your fault, your stupidity and your rejection.

“I’m fine, really. I…I’m gonna go now, it was nice meeting you. Convey my love to Remus, Peter and the girls.” You pick up your bag, moving to the front door with a befuddled James tracking your movements.

“Y/n —“

“Bye, James,” you call out halfheartedly as you slip into your shoes. He comes to stand at the door, rocking Harry from side to side. He looks almost disappointed as you make to leave.

“I’m sorry.”

You look up, surprised. “It’s not your fault.”

James’ lips pursed together with guilt, seeming like he wants to say something as he opens and closes his mouth. He finally sighs, “It’s not your fault either.

It was startling, how he still knew just the right thing to say — he always had. The regret that had been clogging up your heart for years was drained out upon hearing that one sentence. James didn’t hold the utter failure of your relationship against you, and that was enough. If you couldn’t have his love, at least you had his forgiveness.

You give him a half smile and nod, turning around to leave. You’d go back to yours, more of a house than a home. But at least no one but yourself could hurt you there, there was no one to turn away and no hearts to break. No one to love.

“Hey.”

You spin back around to face the door, heart stopping upon seeing the moistness in his eyes. You hear the scratchiness in his throat as he sucks in a deep breath.

“James…”

“No, don’t — don’t say anything. I just wanted to tell you, um…” he defeatedly runs a hand through his hair and exhales shakily. “I hope we worked out, you know, in another life.”

That catches you off guard, your heart involuntarily squeezing in your chest. James looks almost embarrassed as he says it, but you see the vulnerability in his eyes. He was right — maybe there was some planet on which you were less of a coward, another world where he could put a ring on your finger. He’d been yours to lose in this life, perhaps he was yours to love in another.

You clear your throat, feeling nausea brimming in the pits of your gut. “Yeah, I… I hope so too.”

You spare yourself one last glance at him before turning towards the exit, praying he didn’t see the tears dribbling down your cheeks.

You squeeze your eyes shut and will yourself to trudge forward, before he can call out to you and break your heart all over again.

In a few long strides, you’re out the gates; out of James’ life again.

[smiledog15578]

He should be allowed to kill some people for fun. He needs enrichment

Harry Vanderspeigle is essentially a one-shot Invader Zim character. He's stuck in a series about friendship when he SHOULD be in a black comedy melting people with acid.

[harrywavycurly]

Tuesday Dinner: A Sopranos meets Mafia!Harry Styles AU✨

A/N: This is based on this post right here and is probably the most dramatic thing I’ve ever written in my life but I just love the Sopranos and Harry Styles so please don’t take this seriously it’s just a bit of fun!

CW: Language, Harry is a dick but he loves you, threats of violence, brief act of minor violence (you toss something at the back of Harry’s head), this is probably a kinda toxic relationship but I don’t mind if you don’t?

Summary: You’re making dinner on a random Tuesday and Harry’s “coworkers” keep showing up unannounced✨

You place a wooden spoon in your pasta sauce to give it a stir in the pot it’s simmering in, having just moved it to one of the burners on the back of the stove. You feel a hand on your hip and a moment later you feel a soft kiss being placed to the side of your neck before a chin is resting on your shoulder, you smile as you take the spoon out of the pot and bring it up to your lips to give it a taste. You ignore the slight pouting noise Harry makes when you don’t offer him a taste before putting the spoon on the spoon rest next to the stove, deciding your sauce needs a little more salt.

“Where’s the pasta?” Harry questions when he doesn’t see a pot of boiling water next to the pot your sauce is on, you roll your eyes at his question because you know Harry is well aware where the pasta you’ll be using tonight is.

“M’serious what’s the sauce goin’ on?” He asks as he stands up giving your hip a squeeze before he turns to head towards the fridge his eyes landing on the bread on the counter next to it. “All I see is a baguette and-”

“Oh you didn’t just want some sauce with a side of bread and maybe a salad?” You ask feeling annoyed that he’s even in the kitchen in the first place, having been in the office since he got home from work a few hours ago. Harry shoots you a glare as his hand grips the handle of the fridge his wedding ring making a light clink sound when it comes in contact with the metal door handle, not liking your sudden attitude when all he’s doing is asking about what you’re making for dinner.

“You’ll know what the sauce is goin’ on when you open up the fridge and don’t go bein’ an ass about it either okay? I know how you get about-”

“Know how I get about what?” You go back to your sauce, adding a pinch of salt before grabbing the spoon to give it a quick stir as Harry opens the fridge and sees the container of leftover pasta sitting on the bottom shelf. Harry lets out a groan as he leans in and grabs the container off the shelf and sees its full of the rigatoni you didn’t use in the baked dish you made the other night.

“Oh you’ve got to be fuckin’ kiddin me. We can’t get fresh pasta?”

“It is fresh I made that last night. This is just a Tuesday night dinner for the two of us Harry what are you expecting a Sunday dinner kinda spread for?”

“So you’re gonna ruin your good sauce with some microwaved noodles?” Your grip on the handle of the spoon tightens as you turn around so you can face Harry who is now standing by the fridge with the container of pasta in his hands.

“Tell me Harry does this look like the Olive Garden to you? You know damn well I’m not microwaving the fuckin’ pasta you jack-” Before you can finish your sentence you hear three loud knocks on the back door before it opens making Harry turn his attention away from you and towards the back door.

“H you’re not gonna believe the shit I just heard.” Harry puts the container of pasta on the counter next to the fridge as his younger cousin Christopher walks through the door. “Oh somethin’ smells good in here.” You give him a smile as he walks into the kitchen and automatically opens his arms out to give you a quick hug.

“You know that’s your problem. You’re always kissin’ the wrong ass Christopher.” Harry snaps as he places a hand on his hip as he sends a glare to his cousin as you place a kiss to his cheek before he pulls away from you. “Who’d you come over here to see huh? Me or her?” Christopher quirks a brow at you, silently asking what Harry’s problem is when he hears a slight edge in his voice making you roll your eyes and shrug as you turn and go back to perfecting your sauce.

“It’s called havin’ manners H. I mean come on you act like you don’t know who my mother is? She’d kick my ass if she knew I stepped into a woman’s kitchen and didn’t say hello to her first.” You chuckle to yourself as Christopher makes his way towards Harry who is still glaring at his cousin.

“What is it you need to tell me?” He asks as he runs a hand through his hair while his cousin walks past him and to the fridge to grab a beer.

“They got Jimmy.”

“Who got Jimmy?”

“They did H.”

“You’re talkin’ in fuckin circles Christopher who the hell got him? The feds? Sal’s guys? Who?” You bring your spoon up to your lips to give it another taste and smile to yourself when you finally feel you got it right and don’t need to add anything.

You hear Christopher let out a sigh as he opens his beer but before he can fully explain the situation to Harry your back door swings open. You let out a startled squeak as both men instantly place a hand on the back waistband of their slacks, reaching for something they keep tucked away for protection that their casual short sleeved dress shirts do a good job at keeping hidden.

“Boss!” Harry lets out a sigh of relief as Paulie rushes through the door in his usual matching tracksuit and heads straight into the kitchen, Harry’s hand that was on the waistband of his pants falls to his side while he uses the other to pinch the bridge of his nose as an attempt to calm himself down.

“How’ya doin sweetheart? Smells good.” You turn your head and give him a smile as he leans in and places a kiss to your cheek on his way to the other side of the kitchen where Harry and Christopher are still standing by the fridge.

“The fuck is the matter with you Paulie? Bustin’ in the door like that? You’re lucky I didn’t redecorate the walls with your fuckin’-”

“You didn’t hear me knock? I knocked before I came in boss I swear I’m not some kinda wild fuckin’ animal.” He says with his hands raised in a show of mock surrender since he can sense the irritation coming off his boss. “They got Jimmy.”

“I already told em’ Paulie.” Christopher explains after taking a sip of his beer. Harry lets out a frustrated groan as he places both hands on his hips and shakes his head while a sarcastic chuckle bubbles up and out of his mouth from his deep in his chest.

“Actually no one has told me shit because I still don’t know who got Jimmy?” He snaps while you just do your best to ignore the loudness of the men that are starting to take over your kitchen as you turn so you can grab the bread off the counter next to where Harry placed the container of pasta.

“Yo uncle H you hear what happened to Jimmy?” You turn your head to give Harry a warning glare as once again your back door flies open allowing a loud voice that can only belong to his nephew Anthony, to be heard well throughout the house. Harry ignores your glare as Paulie and Christopher turn to look at the youngest member of the Styles crew.

“If you tell em’ then half the damn neighborhood is gonna hear about it too you fuckin’ loud mouth.” Paulie teases as Anthony walks into the kitchen, you open your mouth to say something to your husband but feel a hand on your shoulder pulling you in for a side hug and a kiss to your cheek.

“How ya doin auntie? Smells incredible in here.” While you want to roll your eyes at him you can’t because you’re not annoyed with him or any of the men in your kitchen minus the one that they all came over to talk to, the one they call boss but you just call your husband.

“If one more of you ass kissin’ fucks tells her it smells good in here I’m kickin all you out on your asses. It’s just a fuckin’ sauce and some leftover pasta for Christ sake.” You feel your jaw clench as you reach for a small bread knife from the knife block, Harry watches you turn around and face him with the bread in one hand and the knife in the other. He has to hold off the smirk that’s tugging at the corner of his mouth as he crosses his arms over his chest making his biceps flex a bit as you narrow your eyes at him in a harsh glare while taking a step towards him causing Paulie and Christopher to move to the side to give you some space while Anthony just stands behind his uncle.

“Say one more thing about what I’m making for dinner Harry and you’ll be taking all your meals through a fuckin’ straw for the next few months.” You threaten as you raise the knife up and use it to point at him, Paulie raises an eyebrow as he looks from you to Harry who just gives you a nod as he takes a step towards you and slowly reaches a hand out and places it over yours that’s gripping the handle of the knife that’s still pointed at him.

“Yeah? You gonna break my jaw sweetheart? Is that it?” You shrug as you let him lower your hand holding the knife to your side while looking him in the eyes, you can tell by the way they are a light shade of green almost like a jade color that he’s not angry at you for speaking to him that way in front of company. “I’d let you if it meant I didn’t have to eat microwaved pasta and lukewarm sauce for a while.” He admits with a smirk knowing that comment is going to push you over the edge.

“You’re such a fuckin’ asshole.” Harry’s smirk turns into a full blown grin as you insult him because he knows you’re capable of calling him much worse things than an asshole so that’s his signal that you’re not really mad at him. He lets go of your hand that’s holding the knife and brings it up to cup the side of your face, his rings feeling cool against the warmth of your skin.

“Yeah m’a real fuckin’ prick but you love me.” You roll your eyes making Harry’s grip on your face tighten ever so slightly as his thumb presses into the side of your cheek as he leans down so his lips are right next to your ear. “Come on baby tell me you love me.” He whispers into your ear before placing a kiss to the spot just below it.

“I love you.” You say with an annoyed sigh making Harry smile because in that moment he feels he’s won. He places a kiss to your forehead before he drops his hand from your face and takes a step around you towards the dining room. The guys pause a moment when they hear you let out a scoff before you turn and see Harry’s back facing you as he reaches the edge of the kitchen.

You quickly reach over and place the knife on the counter and grab an apple out of the fruit basket you keep on the kitchen island and before you can second guess yourself you toss it, aiming for the back of Harry’s head. He pauses as the apple makes contact with his shoulder instead of where you had intended it to go but a hit is a hit so you aren’t too upset. He slowly turns around and looks at the apple on the ground, bending down to pick it up before he looks over at you with a glare.

“The fuck is wrong with you?”

“Say it back you fuckin’ jackass.” Harry looks at you with a quirked brow as you stare at him waiting to hear him say he loves you back.

“I love you. You’re the love of my whole miserable fuckin’ life okay? Happy now?” Harry admits and you just nod and turn to grab the knife and make your way over to the area by stove so you can begin to slice the bread and get it ready to be put in the oven with some oil and a bit of garlic.

“Maybe your life wouldn’t be so miserable if you were nicer to your wife you prick.” You mumble making Harry laugh as he turns and walks into the dining room.

“I love when we get dinner and a show.” Paulie jokes as he walks behind you and off in the direction Harry went.

“Always with the jokes. How bout you make yourself useful and set the table huh?” You laugh when you hear Harry’s voice from the dining room followed by what you know is the sound of his hand smacking Paulie upside the head.

“The fuck you two waitin around for? Someone better tell me what the hell happened to Jimmy before my wife sets foot in this room or I’m lettin’ her break all your jaws.” He shouts from the table and you look over your shoulder and watch Christopher and Anthony nearly trip over themselves trying to get in the dining room.

“M’sorry bout the whole dinner and a show comment. You know m’a fuckin’ idiot sometimes.”

“Don’t worry about it Paulie you’re fine he’s just an ass.” You reassure him with a smile as he stands next to you while he opens the cabinet you keep the plates in.

“Just a normal Tuesday at the Styles house huh?” He teases with a giggle and you can’t help but laugh and nod because while normally there aren’t this many unexpected visitors on a Tuesday night you can’t say it hasn’t happened before and that it won’t happen again.

[matchpointfaist]

the children yearn for the mines and I yearn for roger pinball . pleak

rhiannon -- roger sharpe

tw; smut! roger is a silly billy idk. i had so much fun w this roger pinball my beloved!

starting at gq had been a godsend for roger. in the aftermath of his divorce, and recent move to the city, it had been a shiny token of new beginnings. the pretty fashion column writer with a desk just next to his? well, you were just an added bonus.

day in and day out, he'd watch you interact with your coworkers, always too awkward to speak up himself. it went on for weeks, his secret stolen glances across the desks, until one afternoon harry perched himself on the edge of roger's desk, grinning. "you ever gonna talk to her, rog?" he asked, eyes twinkling. "i don't know what you mean," roger just shook his head, looking away and clearing his throat. "everybody in here sees how you look at her. just talk to her, man. she doesn't bite,"

and then he was gone, leaving the words to echo in roger's mind, his internal soundtrack as he watched you laughing with the resident photographer. he knew harry was right, realistically. you were just a woman, and he could handle that. sure, you were the most beautiful woman you'd ever seen, and you were so effortlessly cool that it made him stutter over his words just thinking about it. he'd been married, and divorced, so surely he could handle asking you to dinner.

he worked it all out in his mind. at the end of the night, when everyone was heading down the elevator, he'd ask you. but then the end of the night came, and you were still fussing over a mannequin, pinning all sorts of fabric over its' surface. okay, so he'd just to have to wait until the next night- "roger!" your voice sent a chill down his spine, "hey, sorry, would you mind helping me with this?"

he turned to where you gestured to a pile of fabric, nodding despite knowing nothing at all about fashion, "yeah, of course," "you're a lifesaver, thank you!" you smiled, so bright, so focused on him, it was driving him insane already, "i really just need an extra set of hands to hold everything together while i pin it," "good thing i have two, then," he held them up, acutely aware that it was not a flirty or funny thing to say, but you laughed anyway, like it was the most original thing you'd ever heard. "just tell me where to go, boss,"

he spent the next hour hunched over the mannequin, obeying your every little command on repositioning the materials, in awe of how your vision came to life in front of his eyes. you'd made small talk between requests, asking about his family and hometown, laughing at all his one liners, telling him how cool it was that he was from chicago. he didn't even notice how late it had gotten until you were checking the clock and apologizing, telling him it was half past seven, as if he cared at all. "oh, that's alright," he waved a dismissive hand, "did you get all you needed?" "sure did, thanks to you," you smiled, smoothing out the dress you'd put together. "then it was a night well spent," he grinned.

"at least let me buy you dinner or something," you pleaded as the two of you headed for the elevator, your coat draped over your arm, "i practically wasted your evening," "i told you, it was a night well spent," he argued, holding the door open for you, "besides, a lady has no business buying dinner," "oh, how chivalrous," you laughed, "i had no idea you were so old fashioned, roger," there it was again, the sound of your name on his lips sending a shiver throughout his body. "well of course, m'lady," he put on his best posh accent, "i would not dare fall behind on my gentlemanly duties,"

you fell into a fit of laughs at that, your head tipped back, shoulders shaking. "i had no idea you were so funny, either!" you giggled, covering your mouth, "you should talk more in the office," he wanted to tell you he talked plenty, to harry and james and jack and pamela. you were the only one he hadn't quite gotten the courage for. tonight, that felt like a distant memory. he wasn't sure where his newfound confidence had come from, but he assumed it had something to do with the way you laughed at his jokes, or the way your hand hovered over his when you'd been working on the dress.

when you reached the first floor, he pushed the door open for you, then helped you into your coat as you stepped out into the cold. "any big plans tonight?" you asked, looking at him over your shoulder as he slid the fabric over you. "no, this was it for me," he shook his head, resisting the urge to brush your hair off the nape of your neck, "you?" "same here," you shrugged, "its still early though, so who knows?" "the world's your oyster, huh?" he joked, "we could get that dinner you suggested, if you're free. i'm still not letting you pay, though," "i know the perfect place!" you beamed, tugging on his arm, "cmon, it's this way,"

you brought him to a dimly lit bar, smiling like it was heaven on earth, singing the praises of the bartenders and the greasy food. as soon as you walked through the door, his eyes went to the lit up pinball machine wedged in the corner, surprise buzzing in his veins. he hadn't laid eyes on one since they'd removed the one inside the bookstore, and it was right there, but then you were pulling him to a seat and he was forcing down his excitement. playing pinball on the first date- was this a date?- was sure to land him right back at square one.

the two of you split a tray of appetizers, filling every ounce of silence with laughter and flowing conversation, and he'd halfway managed to push the game from his mind. but then you were smiling, telling him about their little makeshift arcade, and he finally cracked. "we should go play pinball!" he hoped it came out like a lighthearted suggestion, not revealing the thing he was most passionate about in this world. "only if you promise to teach me," you slid off your barstool, draping your coat over the back, "i've never played," oh, he was in heaven now.

he led you to the machine, walking you through the basics, explaining the purpose of each piece, the importance of the plunger, watching as you looked over it excitedly. as you leaned over it, hand on the plunger, he hesitated before moving to stand behind you, one arm on either side of yours, his right hand guiding yours to pull the plunger back. he pulled your hands to control the flippers, his face resting just above your shoulder, "there ya go, you're a natural," you shivered slightly, "i think you're doing all the work, actually," "don't be silly, you're getting it already," he laughed softly, the sound raising goosebumps along your skin, and you leaned back ever so slightly, your back now flush against him.

"i had no idea pinball was so hands on," you murmured, and he was briefly afraid that he'd done too much, been too forward, but as soon as he moved to pull away, you pulled him back, smiling, "wasn't complaining, rog," "no?" his voice cracked as he said it, blood rushing to his cheeks, "i don't think i mind it either,"

he helped you through two games like that, draped over your back, hands guiding yours. every few minutes, you’d shift in his arms, brushing against his hips in a way that had him stuttering, fumbling for words. you finally managed to hit the smallest target, the 500 pointer, turning in his arms and squealing with excitement. “i won!” you grinned, “did you see that? i totally won! i’m so good at this,” he tried so hard to focus, to maintain his easygoing exterior, but your chest was pressed against his and you were smiling up at him and he suddenly needed to press you against the pinball machine and- “well now i owe you for being such a good teacher,”

he told himself he imagined your tone, imagined the way your lashes bat up at him, but the words shot through him nonetheless, his skin flushed all over. “yeah?” he managed, “maybe we could get coffee soon, or-“ “that’s not what i meant, roger,” you giggled, “gosh, you’re too sweet to take a hint. i’m flirting with you,” jesus, he knew that. he just couldn’t bare the thought of it, of acting on it and messing up, or worse, letting this go to waste. “i know that,” he grumbled, cheeks red, “i just didn’t wanna be presumptuous,”

“d’you wanna come over?” you asked, one hand on his chest, “i don’t wanna move too quick, but i thought maybe you were interested,” “of course i’m interested,” he tried to laugh off the quickness with which he’d replied, “you’re beautiful, i’d love to come with you, of course,” “good,” you smiled, like you were truly relieved, “come on, then, let’s call a cab,”

he followed you back into the chilly night air, watching as you hailed a cab with practiced ease, a frustrated pout on your lips when minutes passed without luck. “gonna freeze out here,” he pulled you away from the edge of the sidewalk, his arms over your shoulders, “you oughta dress warmer, yknow,” “and compromise fashion? never,” you laid a hand on your chest like you were offended, but your grin gave you away, “got you to warm me up, anyway,” you scooted in closer, and he couldn’t hold it back anymore. “i really wanna kiss you,” it came out in a nervous laugh, his voice cracking, “if that’s okay,”

“i’d love for you to kiss me, roger,” you smiled, standing on your tiptoes to reach him better, giggling quietly as his mustache brushed your lips before he finally kissed you, his hand on your low back to hold you up. he could feel you smiling against his lips and it made him so giddy, like a high schooler with a crush, not a grown man kissing his coworker in the middle of a new york street. you pulled away after a moment, cheeks flushed and eyes twinkling, “tickles a little,” “oh, sorry,” he laughed, smoothing down the facial hair self consciously, “i could trim it, for next time,” “next time?” you raised an eyebrow, grinning, “how presumptuous of you, mr. sharpe,” and then you were kissing him again, and he was smiling in turn, unable to stop himself.

you finally took a break long enough to hail a taxi, sneaking kisses between glimpses at the street, giggling as he helped you into the backseat, his hand never leaving yours. you gave the driver your address before falling back into the seat, smiling and making soft, surprised noises as he trailed kisses over your jawline. when the taxi finally arrived at your apartment, the two of you stumbled out, roger passing the driver a crisp $50 and bidding him goodnight before revolving back into your orbit, a blur of hands and kisses as he followed you up the stairs, laughing as he stumbled on the top step.

you unlocked the door with one hand, kicking it open and squealing as he picked you up, kicking the door closed after him, kissing you senseless as you wrapped your legs around his waist. “bedroom?” he asked, panting against your lips, smiling still, “if that’s what you want, i mean,” “down the hall to the right,” you replied, your tone rushed as you kissed him again, clinging to him as he carried you down the hall.

your bedroom was such a perfect amalgamation of you, posters on the wall and fabric scraps littering the floor, burnt up incense on the nightstand and a record player on the dresser. he set you down on the bed gently, leaning over you at an awkward angle until you pulled him down beside you, giggling when he nearly flipped off the mattress. “you’re so-“ he spoke in broken sentences, kissing all over your cheeks and jaw, “beautiful-“ more kisses, trailing down your neck, “smell so good,”

you pulled at the edge of his shirt, your forehead bumping his as you pulled off the sweater, tossing it to the floor with a laugh before tracing your fingers over his chest, raking your fingernails through the dusting of blonde hair. “are you sure you want to do this?” he asked, voice cracked with withheld curses as you kissed down his chest, pausing to admire his freckles. “i’m sure, roger,” you hummed, “don’t worry s’much,”

“whatever you say,” he murmured, “can i-“ his fingers hovered over the skirt of your dress, itching to pull it off. you nodded, cheeks flush, raising your arms as he pulled the dress up and off of you, leaving you in your underwear and bra. “beautiful,” he whispered, mostly to himself, hesitating before burying his face in your chest, kissing and biting ever so slightly, sucking little pink marks into the skin. “oh,” you exhaled softly, resting your hands in his hair, “that feels good,” he slid one hand into the cup of your bra, satisfied as you let out a quiet moan when his fingers traced your nipple, smiling against your chest.

he let you push him back slightly, your hands coming to undo his belt buckle and rid him of his corduroy pants, biting his lip when your hand grazed his aching length through his boxers. you pressed a kiss to his lower stomach, just above the line of cotton, humming before pulling his lips back to yours, kissing him nice ‘n slow. “how do you want me?” he asked, breathless as his hands slid to your ass, kneading and grabbing desperately. “don’t care,” you mumbled, kissing his cheek, “just wanna see you,”

you rolled over onto your back, letting him undo your bra and slide your underwear down, gasping softly as you felt the ghost of his breath against your slick cunt. “oh, roger,” his tongue was on you in seconds, lapping at you, so eager to please. “is this okay?” he paused to ask, and you laughed despite the situation at hand, “yes, please,” you nodded, holding his hair gently as he resumed, one hand running over your thigh softly. his free hand slid between your thighs, one finger sliding into you slowly as he paused to press a kiss to your thigh before returning to his movements. his finger curled inside you as his tongue circled your clit, your quiet moans filling the room. “so close,” you panted, hips bucking, “oh, roger, fuck-“ you came undone against his mouth, grinding against him, back arched off the mattress as he licked you clean, humming softly.

he kissed back up to your face, and you laughed as his now wet mustache slid against your cheek, scrunching you nose and wiping his mouth with your blanket before kissing him, wrapping your arms around his shoulders. “thank you,” you mumbled against his lips, reaching between your bodies to push down his boxers. “thanks for letting me,” he smiled slightly, the corner of his mouth quirked up, but quickly falling open as you wrapped a hand around his cock, stroking it slowly.

you rolled onto your side, roger following, until you were facing each other, your legs on either side of his. “like this?” he asked, face all screwed up in pleasure when you led him between your thighs, his tip brushing against you. “yes, please,” you nodded, kissing him once more before he was holding one of your hips, his free hand on the side of your face as he slowly worked inside of you, stretching you out slowly. “oh, god,” he exhaled, eyes rolling back, “you’re so tight,” his hips twitched slightly, rocking deeper into you, “sorry- just so good,” “don’t apologize,” you murmured, “just fuck me, rog, m not gonna break,”

that sent him over the edge of control, and his grip on your hip tightened slightly as he fucked you deeper, his thrusts still slow and gentle. he tried his hardest to keep his eyes open, not wanting to miss a moment of the way you looked as you came undone around him, a moaning mess. “beautiful,” he panted, the tension growing tighter in his stomach as he got closer, “oh, baby, god, thank you,” he caught your lips in a kiss, hard and hot as he got closer and closer to the edge, finally spilling into you when you bit at his bottom lip lightly. “oh, jesus,” he pulled away, attempting to catch his breath, thumb running back and forth over your cheek as he did, “you’re perfect,”

“mm,” you had a blissful little smile on your swollen lips, “i think you’re perfect, actually,” “oh!” he suddenly realized that he’d finished inside you, his cheeks burning, “i’m so sorry, i- i didn’t even mean to,” “it’s okay,” you giggled, “on the pill,” “oh,” he exhaled a sigh of relief, “that was- i mean, amazing,” you pressed a kiss to his cheek, smiling still, before rolling over with a sigh, sitting up and stretching. “it was,” you glanced at him over your shoulder, grabbing his sweater from the floor and slipping it over you as you padded to the bathroom, returning a few minutes later. “looks better on you,” he grinned, eyes half lidded as he watched you climb back into bed. “mm, maybe not as fashionable as i’d like. but it smells nice,” you teased, kissing his shoulder and settling back in beside him, “stay over?” “wouldn’t dream of leaving,” he laughed, brushing a strand of hair from your face, “we should play pinball more often,”

[floswife]

SORE LOSER - T.N X READER

Pairing: Theodore Nott x reader

Summary: Theodore and Y/n learn how to better focus their hate for each other

Warnings: SMUT, oral, dubcon..?

Author’s notes: this is my first time writing smut so I honestly apologise for how inevitably bad this will be 💀

Y/n didn’t know what it was about seeing the anger flash before Theo’s eyes when she’d taunt him, but it honestly was her main motivation when competing against him.

Like now in this quidditch match as she threw the quaffle threw the goal hoops once more, she had to turn to look at Theo for a split second just for the sake of rubbing salt into the wound. She would like to lie and say she was ashamed of her pettiness but what’s the point in that?

She had been out to get him ever since he made her cauldron explode in potions, which prompted Snape to hate her even more than he usually did with Gryffindors. Which was quite a feat, she wasn’t on a Harry Potter level of hatred but on the other hand Snape didn’t have a perpetual hard on for her mother either so that probably helped her too.

In hindsight it was a petty reason to name someone your sworn enemy, but his smug smile when he saw her turn to glare at him was enough to set her eleven year old brain off. Plus she just really liked being a hater for no reason.

After successfully winning the game she went over to Theo who was leaning against the wall, looking like a kicked puppy, she couldn’t lie, seeing him like that really did numbers on her but she wasn’t about to let that get in the way of her favourite thing to do with Theo, gloat.

“How does it feel to lose yet again, Nott?” She called out cheerily, the broad grin he loved hated so much painted across her face.

He groaned in annoyance at the sound of her voice, “leave me alone, l/n, I’m not in the mood.”

He had always been a sore loser, she laughed in amusement “or what? I’m sorry but the last I checked you don’t get to tell me what to do.”

Theo glared at her as she stood in front of him, both of them still in their quidditch uniforms, he towered over her but she did well to push that thought to the back of her mind as she had been doing ever since he annoyingly hit a growth spurt in third year. She remembered how ranted about it to her friends later on, pretending to ignore her friends knowing smirks as she’d feel a rosy blush rise to her cheeks every time she had to crane her neck to meet his cold gaze.

“Why do you always have to be such a brat?” He sneered at the girl.

“Oh I’m the brat? I’m not the one sulking like a child because I lost a match.” Y/n’s continuous retorts just made him snap.

He grabbed her wrist and yanked her to follow after him, practically dragging her, and took her under the quidditch stands.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?!” She rubbed her wrist in annoyance at his harsh grip.

“I’m gonna teach you how to shut up.” He pushed her down to her knees and she looked up at him in shock, she looked forward and saw the prominent tent in his trousers, “now be a good girl and listen to me for once.” His voice was slightly whiny as he said that, like he was begging her.

Y/n gulped, really beginning to question her morals, but all her internal monologue silenced when he unzipped his trousers and freed his member from its constraints with a throaty groan, wetness pooled between her legs at the sound and just the sight of his pretty cock. Merlin he was big.

He rubbed the tip along her lips, the salty taste of his precum invaded her tastebuds.

“Open your mouth and put that mouth to good use.” He demanded, she did as she was told and tentatively kitten licked the tip, he threw his head back in satisfaction and let out a whimper? She then wrapped her mouth around his tip and sucked.

He moaned her name out even louder, making her moan around his cock at the sound, she took as much of him down her throat as possible, she gagged when he hit the back of her throat but she powered through, bobbing her head up and down and using her hand to pump at the parts of his shaft that couldn’t fit in her mouth.

“Fuck! Just like that. Taking me so well.”

He was groaning loudly, and she suddenly gained awareness that they weren’t exactly in the most private of places, she tried to pull away to tell him to shut up but he just wrapped a hand in her hair and pushed her back down, he began thrusting his hips and fucked her mouth, tears ran down her cheeks and saliva dribbled out the corners of her mouth as he used her as he pleased. The thought of how blatantly he was using her as just an object couldn’t help but arouse her.

“Being such a good girl for me.”

He held her head down on his cock and she struggled to breath, he twitched before releasing down her throat, he pulled out and tapped her cheek, “swallow.”

He tucked himself away and she got up and stuck out her tongue to show him she swallowed.

He now smirked, “it wasn’t that hard to listen now was it?”

Y/n was still in a haze as she tried to compose herself and have the decency to at least pretend to be embarrassed and tried to pull away but he firmly placed his hands on her hips and pulled her right back against him again, “Shut up, Nott.”

He raised his brows teasingly and she couldn’t help but grow frustrated at how he had switched the tables on her so quickly when she was so clearly set up for a win.

“That’s not how someone who just had my cock down my throat should be speaking, now is it?” His voice was mocking, condescending.

She get that familiar heat pool between her thighs once more and she remained speechless, he smirked.

“Such a shame, you were gonna get a reward for being such a good girl.”

She tried to gain her composure as she scoffed, “like I’d want it.” She really did want it

He leaned in, that stupid lazy smirk on his lips again, “so you’re not soaked right now?”

Her eyes widened and he then inched his hand from her hip to under her waistband, as soon as his fingers touched her wetness that had completely soaked through her panties she moaned lightly, her eyes rolling back at the contact she was yearning this whole time.

“Theo!” She gasped.

He pulled his fingers away just as quickly as it came he pulled his finger and he brought it to his lips to suck her juices clean from it and he hummed, “so sweet.. on second thought, let’s continue this tonight, room of requirements?”

“What-“

And just like that he left her there, needy for his touch.

She really did hate him.

But he was so hot.

Looks like she had plans for the night.

Part two?

[sparrowlucero]

i enjoy ur bird abode thoughts! I was a genuine enjoyer of the show when it was airing, I’m no die hard fan though and love to see ppls personal takes on the overall story/plot. Im curious if you also would agree or have any thoughts on the impacts The Mouse’s cancellation had on the shows ability to be more than it was? srry im not super eloquent with my words, but basically ur response to that ask got me wondering if part of the reason the show like genuinely wasnt all that ground breaking or unique in the end plot wise (other than the villain faces consequences in the end ig) as far as YA/Teen animation goes, was because of The Mouse’s inability to let the writers flesh out the show before gutting it? i have a negative bias toward The Mouse franchise and obviously dont know anything about how writing a show under the eyes of a franchise that big would work, its just smth that rattles around in my head and wanna know what u think!

Well to an extent, but I think it's much more the effect the studio had on how the owl house started out as rather than it not getting a full season at the end - It didn't escape my noticed that the show was initially announced as being a "horror comedy" when it doesn't really seem like either, especially by the second season, and yeah, the original pitch bible is obviously aiming for that much more than the show proper is as it goes along (and is honestly seems quite a bit more funny, weird, and dark, with an overarching plotline about a giant bug being used to religiously suppress people, eda able to cure her curse by killing luz, and one of the major characters being a teen boy awoken from a sleeping curse who ends up being a weird little bigot because he's from the 13th century, among other things)

(side note, i just noticed they actually specifically describe the thing i assumed the show was gonna be about here. huh.) but ultimately the bulk of the show that was actually made seems very influenced by a writing team that was genuinely interested in making a tropey YA fantasy story rather than just being mandated to. I mean even in what aired you can see the show sort of settle in ways that feel less like studio interference and more like, you know, art students creating their ideal fantasy show, like how King is clearly Eda's roommate who's funny because he looks like and sounds like a little dog despite being an adult man at the beginning but by the end they've made him her adopted sad backstory son who's explicitly a child. While I think a third season would have made the show as it existed better, because they clearly didn't get to finish the plot they wanted to (frankly to the point where some major aspects of the show are a bit confusing, I'm still not sure what a grimwalker is), I don't really fault the show for that but also don't think that hypothetical season (which pretty clearly would have been mostly about the magic school teens going to normal school) would suddenly flip around into something that I personally found interesting and subversive. Nor should it, really; again, it being Queernorm Harry Potter thing is clearly the intended appeal of the show, it's not really a flaw but just not a genre I'm personally interested in when compared to what I initially expected the show to be.

HOWEVER I will say they robbed little weird girls of their representation and that can't be forgiven

[sdmnpact]

Crush.

Joe Weller x Reader ff

[] bestfriend!wroetoshaw, good friends with the sidemen.

~~~

"Woah- what are you doing!!???" Harry said coming up behind you causing you to jump and hide your phone. "What! Nothing. Go away!" You said playfully as he sat next to you on the couch. Harry, your best friend and roommate had came out of his room just to bother you of course.

"I saw what you were looking at." He smirked as you still held your phone screen down. "I have no clue what you're talking about." You reponded acting posh. "Oh come on! You were basically drooling over here! You were looking through Joe's instagram again!" He said followed by that breathy laugh he always does.

"Prove it!" You said smirking at him. In one swift movement, he pushed you back towards the couch making you lose grasp of your phone. He took it in his hands and stood over you. "Okay well thats just not fair." You huffed sitting back up as he laughed.

"Lets see, oh weller shirtless, weller at the beach, weller shirtless... again. Damn does he just not wear shirts?" Harry said scrolling through Joe's pictures. You swiped your phone back quickly as Harry looked at you with a smirk on his face. "Oh you are so smitten!!" He teased poking your cheek lightly. "No im not shut up!" You said feeling your face get hot.

"Im gonna tell Joe!" He said quickly before running off towards the bathroom. "Oi Harry, you better fucking not!" You warned through the now shut bathroom door. "I cant hear you!" He screamed as you heard the water turn on. "Ill come in there!" You yelled back turning the knob. Locked. That bastard. You rolled your eyes in annoyance.

Its not like he was going to text Weller right now. No- knowing Harry, he was going to make a whole deal about it tomorrow. You planned on going to the sidemen shoot with him tomorrow. No reason of course just to support all your friends is all, but Joe Weller being a guest does help a bit. Of course now, you were dreading it knowing Harry was going to slip it in somehow that you fancied Joe.

You were all grown ups of course, but even grown ups need help in relationships and Harry knows that if he doesnt act now, you'll never know what could happen between you and Joe. Someone you fancied for quite a while now. Maybe it'll be fine, or maybe you'll make a fool of yourself. Either way, it'll be a great time, you hope.

>>>

"Come on!" You said rushing Harry, as he was taking forever walking up the stairs to the building. "Y/n, my legs are giving out right now, i think i slept wrong." He groaned as you rolled you eyes. "Okay well im leaving." You said picking up your pace.

His expression turned excited. "To see Joe!!" He cooed stopping you in your tracks. "Harry- dont!"

"You think I forgot huh? My friend Joe and I will definitely have a nice little chat about how you fancy him before the end of the day." He said getting a boost in his step, walking past you. You watched as he walked into the building, you were deciding if you should just leave now to save yourself from embarrassment.

"Oi oi, Y/n! How you doing?" Josh said coming up behind you giving you a little side hug. "Terrible. Harry is gonna ruin my life." You huffed as the two of you walked into the building.

"Oh? How?" He said, you were about to answer when the door opened.

"Hey Zerkaa!" The familiar cheerful voice said coming over towards you two. You looked towards , seeing the one and only, Joe Weller.

"Oh, is this the lovely Y/n that ive heard so much about?" He said bro hugging Josh and grabbing your hand, shaking it lightly. You felt the blood rush to your cheeks, you hoped it wasnt too noticable but judging by the cheeky look on Josh's face you could tell it was.

"Hey Joe! Nice to finally meet you!" You said maybe a bit too excited. You felt a tug at your shirt and looked towards Josh, noticing you were almost on top of Joe. You were too excited to meet him that you almost bounced towards him with every word. He laughed lightly noticing you pull yourself back.

"Well should we get this show on the road then?" Josh said clapping his hands together making you both follow him towards the main room. You walked in, greeted by multiple cameras, camera people, props, you know the general sidemen studio stuff. You saw Harry walked towards you with the biggest grin on his face. You shook your head at him and mouthed 'dont fucking dare.'

"Hey Weller! How are you mate!? You wanna go grab a snack with me." Harry said placing an arm around Joe leading him towards the food. "You're so screwed." Josh snickered as he walked away leaving you alone trying to grapple with the fact that it was gonna be a long day.

>>>

You watched the boys film their video for side+ with Joe. It was very funny and you enjoyed watching them film live but the only thing you could focus on the whole time, was Joe. He is so goofy yet so sweet. He had some tender moments with Harry that made you fall even harder for him. Even though you wanted something with him, you didn't want it to happened through Harry as a wingman. He knows the most embarrassing things about you and would easily spill. You know he would tell you that Joe will find it charming but that's just ridiculous.

As they finished filming, you saw Joe and Harry laughing about something. Harry looked towards you multiple times making you feel self conscious. You thought maybe he told Joe all about you, even the not so good things. You walked over towards Josh for some reassurance.

"So, what are they talking about?" You asked pointing towards the pair as they were in hysterics about something.

"Harry told them about the time you peed yourself when you were drunk." You eyes went wide and your face turned bright red. No way, he told him that story!

"I'm just kidding- you're so worried. The more you worry, the more Harry is gonna torture you, you know that right?" He said with a laugh.

"He's so annoying."

"Well, you chose that as your best friend. Could have been me but noooo." He said pointing at Harry, then walking away.

You saw Harry leave towards the restroom and decided to go up to Joe and see what he had heard about you. He was standing there scrolling on his phone when you walked up.

"Hey again." You said quietly. "Oh Hey!! Man, does Harry love talking about you!" He said with a lot of enthusiasm. "Only good things, I hope!" You smiled, hoping it was true.

"Yeah of course, you guys have some great times. One of the things he told me was that you actually fancy me..." He revealed, your face burning hot. You were actually going to kill Harry for this.

"What? Me? No. You know what- there's actually two Y/n's and he must have been talking about her." You said trying to play it off, failing in doing so.

"Oh come on- he told me all about it." He said with a cheeky grin. You felt youself melt at the sight.

"Okay well, maybe I do feel some type of way over you but that's not here nor there and you know you probably don't feel the same way-"

"What's going on here?" Harry said coming back. He knows you begin rambling when you're nervous.

"You told Joe that I liked him!" You said sternly, slightly slapping his arm. "Um, Y/n, no I didn't" He said genuinely looking shocked. Your eyes went wide. 'But wait how did Joe know then?' You thought to yourself.

"I overheard your conversation with Harry earlier." He said noticing the confuse expression on your face. "But you weren't even around then?"

"Well, I saw you guys talking so I backed up and went up to you when you were with Josh." So he was eavesdropping then. You found it kind of adorable but were upset that you outed yourself to him now like a babbling idiot.

"So what do you say then?" Joe said suddenly.

"About what?" Harry said interjecting himself.

"Well, I want to know if Y/n wanted to grab lunch with me, as a first date maybe?" He said looking at you with hopeful eyes. You smiled brightly towards him.

"Id love to!" You said cheerfully. "You said we were gonna get nandos after this..." Harry whined like a baby. You rolled your eyes. "I'll bring you something later." You said as he nodded walking away leaving you two alone.

"Shall we?" Joe said in a fake posh accent extending his hand. "Lets!" You responded grabbing his hand as he led you towards his car.

>>>

Things went better than you expected. You honestly thought you were gonna make a fool of yourself in front of this man but he is just so easy to talk to. You felt so comfortable with him. You two had gone to a nearby restaurant and spent basically the rest of the day just getting to know each other. You two talked about anything and everything.

You didn't want the day to end but after spending so many hours at the restaurant you felt like you needed to leave. You two got back in his car and he drove you towards your flat. Once you finally arrived, he walked you all the way up to your door.

"So, that was really nice." He said getting slightly nervous. "Yeah, it was a great time." You responded. You noticed him looking at your lips and in a swift movement, you grabbed his arm planting your lips on his. As ridiculous as it sounds, you actually felt butterflies in your stomach. His soft lips moved against yours like they were made for each other. It was getting more heated by the second as your hands made their way towards Joe's hair, tugging at it lightly when you heard the door open.

"Guys, if you wanna fuck please come inside. We're civilized people." Harry said as you two quickly pulled apart. You looked at Harry in annoyance as he smirked. "Here take your food." You said holding out the to-go bag. He happily took it and went to the kitchen. You rolled you eyes at him and turned back to Joe.

"Sorry about that." You awkwardly laughed as he just stared at you with a cute grin.

"We should definitely do this again sometime. Maybe Friday?" He said. You smiled and nodded.

"Definitely."

~~~

A/n

I've realized after reading this again that I really played into the being bestfriends with Harry part so it's lacking the Joe dating part 😭 I'll write a better one soon. I still hope you liked it!

[gurugirl]

The Honeymoon | a preview

This is a completed Patreon only 4 part one-shot. Total word count: 22,122

Summary: When your fiance doesn't show up on your wedding day, you're left devastated and humiliated. But you plan to go on your honeymoon trip anyway, a monthlong guided tour through the UK. Your handsome and charming tour guide, Harry, helps you see the beauty around yourself as you discover how scenic life is and find the courage to embrace a new beginning.

·⁀ ༄.°✈ ₊⭒˚｡⋆

“What do you mean he’s not at the altar? Like… he’s not here? At all?” You’d been waiting for the signal to come out for nearly thirty minutes in the dressing room. Your mother had left to find out what the holdup was, and you figured Adan was just being his normal self. Often taking way too long to do things or losing track of time. It was irritating that on your wedding day, of all days, he’d cause such a delay, but you were determined to keep positive and not sweat the small stuff.

“Honey, he never showed up. I guess Arthur said he got a text from Adan. He said he’s not coming.”

You’d never in your life felt such a sense of panic. It was supposed to be the best day of your life. Or at least a wonderfully monumental day that you���d always remember with happy fondness.

“Is—he okay? What happened?” You rushed to fish your phone from your bag and dialed your fiancé right away, your 1-carat engagement ring glinting flawlessly in the light that poured in from the window. It was a gorgeous sunny day—too pretty to have something like this go wrong. 

Your mom gently put her hand on your arm. Her expression was pity, sorrow.

“He’s not answering! Oh my god. Is he hurt? Do we know what happened?”

Shaking her head, your mom kept her eyes on you, and there was a knock at the door before it was being pushed open. Your maid of honor, Dora, pushed her way into the dressing room and wrapped her arms around you, sniffling. “I’m so sorry, Y/n. I’m gonna kill him.”

You pushed her off, holding her by the shoulders, and shook your head. “What do you mean? What’s happened? What did he do?”

You had almost no information. Your mother only knew he wasn’t coming based on a text he sent his best man, Arthur.

“He’s gone to Vegas. With Mindy.”

“Mindy?!” You looked from your mom to your best friend, and your eyes widened as it all suddenly dawned on you.

Mindy. She was one of your closest and dearest friends. In fact, she was meant to be in the wedding party, and you hadn’t seen her all day either, but figured she was elsewhere or running late, as she tended to do. A lot like Adan, now that you were thinking about it.

Mindy was Adan’s friend before yours. He and Mindy went to college together, and from the moment he introduced you two, you were connected at the hip, and you adopted her into your tight-knit group of friends. She’d be at your and Adan’s apartment almost every day after you got off work. Already there with a beer in hand and figuring out what to make for dinner with your fiancé. Sometimes, it was like she was a roommate. Sometimes, you wondered if Mindy might have a crush on Adan. But you never imagined in a million years…

“Vegas? Like… to get…” You hadn’t stopped shaking your head as you searched Dora’s face, your mother clinging to you closely in support.

Dora nodded, “Eloped,” she scoffed. “I’m gonna kill the fucking bitch and then I’m gonna cut his dick off with a dull butter knife and make him eat it!”

Your mom let out a shocked laugh of approval, and you broke down. It had been the most dramatic and ridiculous display since you were five, and your brother had cut off your favorite doll's hair and dipped its head in blue acrylic paint.

But this time, it was called for. Your mother and your best friend held you on each side as your legs gave way, and you went limp slowly to the floor. Black streaks of mascara down your face and splotched on the bust of your ivory dress, you ugly cried until you couldn’t breathe and then did it again.

Not only were you devasted. You were humiliated. Your fiancé, the man you were due to marry at that moment, had run off with one of your best friends. To marry her and not you.

Mother fucker.

·⁀ ༄.°✈ ₊⭒˚｡⋆

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xoxo

[platypus-beans]

Every day I find myself getting more and more pissed.

Whether you like it or not, either Kamala Harris or Donald Trump is going to win the election. The voting population not for either do not have enough to elect a third party, especially since none of yall can agree on which candidate you want.

None of the candidates are actually going to stop Isreal, some might say they will, but the president doesn't work alone and if the other branches don't want to do it, it won't get done.

All you are doing by refusing to vote blue because "both sides are bad!!!" for either candidate is putting America in jeopardy. Trump wants anyone not like him dead or bowing at his feet. He can say project 2025 isn't his until he's blue in the face, but everyone knows the truth.

Yes, it is *kamala's* campaign you are hurting. Trumpies are incredibly ride or die, to the point where they are still desperately spreading that "immigrants eating dogs and cats" shit because they can't accept their beautiful leader would lie to them.

The American public has fallen into this state where if the ideal isn't happening, they'll throw their hands in the air and won't do anything. It's like this with tipping culture mist evidently. The people aren't being payed properly and rely on tips, so in retaliation people refuse to tip.

You are not going to get the ideal situation by putting your loved ones in jeopardy by throwing your vote somewhere it doesn't matter.

Change happens slow and with plans, not with one stint. Your revolt is litterally a common statistic of the election which has only become more relevant because of cultish behavior on the right.

A woman of color being a viable candidate for the presidential election is fucking monumental and you're all treating it like its nothing and demanding more. You're not gonna get more in the next month and couple days. Let go of your damn pride because nothing good will happen for Palestine, or Congo, or Venezuela, or anyone else if you let Trump get in.

Is Kamala Harris perfect? No. Is she even great? Not at all. But her even getting this close to the oval office is progress.

But no. Throw away your vote. It's fine. I'm sure all the Palestinians will love you once Trump gets into power and gives Netanyahu the go ahead to kill them all with no mercy.

I'm done being fucking scared.

[maxdibert]

You always say that JKR's female characters have sexist characteristics, and I agree. Now I'm thinking, do the male characters have the same problem? I feel like we talk so much more about the female characters, because we analyse them from a feminist perspective. But are the male characters that much different?

When I think about a male character who gets portrayed in a sexist manner, of course Snape comes to mind. Because he doesn't have traditionally masculine traits, and often gets treated as too emotional or "hysterical", even in the moments he has every right to be angry. Do we have any other examples?

Ohhh my friend, you just pick my favorite topic: gender roles in fiction. This is gonna be so long that's because i didn't answered before. But what can I say? I love gender analysis. Well, the sexism in Harry Potter doesn't just harm or flatten its female characters, it also shapes the men in rigid, gendered ways. The narrative tells us what kinds of men deserve praise and which ones deserve ridicule or punishment, and those judgments often mirror traditional, patriarchal ideals of masculinity.

Severus is a prime example. He’s written with traits that are culturally coded as unmasculine: emotional intensity, awkwardness, deep attachment, and vulnerability. But instead of being treated with compassion or complexity, he’s portrayed as bitter, obsessive, even “pathetic.” His grief, rage, and isolation are often mocked or pathologized, rather than explored. The narrative treats his emotions as excesses, as if he should be more stoic, more composed—more “manly.” This isn’t just a character flaw—it’s a rejection of any masculinity that doesn’t align with dominance, physical bravery, or emotional control.

Neville, for example, also demonstrates how the story treats alternative masculinities. Early on, he’s timid, forgetful, and sensitive. These traits are framed as embarrassing until he becomes braver, more assertive, and physically courageous. In short, until he conforms to the warrior-hero mold. Only then does the narrative grant him respect. The same applies to Harry himself: when he expresses emotions —particularly grief or anger— he’s dismissed as “moody” or irrational. The story often limits him to being a brave, self-sacrificing leader, but gives him very little emotional support or space for vulnerability. There's no real model for healthy emotional masculinity in the series, only the expectation that boys must “man up” to be heroes.

Hagrid is another example: deeply nurturing, emotionally expressive, and connected to nature and animals, traits often associated with care work and maternal energy. But instead of being respected for those qualities, he’s infantilized and often used as comic relief. His gentle masculinity is never truly valued: is ridiculed.

Contrast this with how the narrative treats women: the only ones who are consistently admired or respected are those who adopt traditionally masculine (but specifically patriarchal) traits: McGonagall, Ginny (in the later books), Tonks (to a degree), and of course Hermione. These women are praised for being rational, assertive, clever, emotionally restrained, and good at traditionally male-coded skills like dueling or strategy. But when they express vulnerability or compassion —or engage in emotional labor— they’re often sidelined or seen as less effective. The narrative doesn't reward care or softness in women any more than it does in men. Feminine-coded traits —empathy, nurturing, emotional openness— are simply not respected in Rowling’s world, she doesn’t uplift a deconstructed, emotionally mature masculinity in either men or women, she simply maps the traditional masculine ideal onto certain female characters and punishes the rest. The politics of care, softness, emotional labor are consistently devalued in the narrative, regardless of who displays them.

And this binary logic extends even to the depiction of villains. Take Lucius Malfoy and Tom Riddle, for instance. Both are presented as elegant, refined, beautiful even, traits often associated with femininity. Tom is repeatedly described as “handsome,” charismatic, and physically graceful. Lucius is cold, vain, poised, and his long blond hair and pristine appearance mark him as almost effeminate. These aesthetic choices are not incidental: the text uses their "feminine" physicality and polished manners to underscore their moral corruption. Their deviation from rugged, physical masculinity becomes part of their danger. It reinforces the idea that ambiguity—especially gender ambiguity— is inherently threatening.

This is a very old trope: the villain whose femininity is a sign of deceit, vanity, and perversion. In contrast to the "good" masculinity of characters like Lupin, Sirius (though flawed), or even Dumbledore in certain contexts, Tom and Lucius are coded as deceptive, performative, and manipulative, traits historically attributed to women in patriarchal literature.

Rowling’s portrayal of masculinity in the serues isn’t just about punishing deviation from patriarchal norms. It’s also about celebrating and excusing those who most embody traditional, dominant masculinity, even when they behave in deeply harmful or morally hypocritical ways. Two of the clearest examples are Sirius Black and James Potter.

Sirius is a textbook case of this. The narrative goes out of its way to frame him as attractive, charismatic, rebellious, and brave, the quintessential "cool bad boy." He’s constantly described in a romanticized, even fetishized light: leather jackets, long hair, brooding stares, a tortured past. Rowling makes sure we know he was handsome as a teenager and still has that allure, despite everything. But beneath that carefully maintained image lies a deeply flawed, morally inconsistent man. He is impulsive, often cruel, emotionally stunted, and astonishingly reckless with Harry, treating him less like a child in his care and more like a replacement for his lost best friend.

Sirius clearly struggles with trauma and imprisonment, but the narrative infantilizes him to excuse his worst traits. His emotional immaturity, his inability to grow beyond the age he was when he was imprisoned, is framed as tragic rather than irresponsible. His deep resentment of his family background, while understandable, leads to abusive behavior, yet it's never really questioned or addressed. He taunts Kreacher, encourages Harry to take unnecessary risks, and repeatedly projects his unresolved issues onto others. And yet, instead of holding him accountable, the narrative bends over backward to present him as misunderstood, loyal, and ultimately noble. His hypermasculine traits—defiance, aggression, emotional repression—are romanticized, even when they make him a terrible role model and Rowling excuses him constantly because well, he's a man isn't him? Men are men after all.

James is similarly protected by the narrative. He's introduced, retrospectively, as a school bully: arrogant, cruel, and dismissive of others (especially Snape). In SWM makes this abundantly clear: he bullies Snape for no reason other than boredom and ego. But Rowling frames his redemption not through any internal change or reckoning, but through Lily. We’re told James "grew out of it" because Lily wouldn't date him otherwise. The implication is that the love or approval of a good woman is what transforms a toxic man into a worthy one, a deeply sexist trope that places the burden of male moral development on women, rather than demanding accountability.

James doesn’t evolve because he recognizes his behavior was wrong, he changes because it wins him the girl. There’s no moment of reflection or apology, no exploration of the damage he caused. Instead, the narrative assures us that because he was brave, rich, talented, and confident —because he died fighting Voldemort— his earlier behavior is irrelevant. He’s mythologized as a hero, a perfect father, a natural leader. Once again, the narrative rewards hypermasculinity —dominance, swagger, courage in battle— while erasing the harm it can cause when it goes unchecked.

These character arcs are deeply gendered. Sirius and James are not punished for their aggression, recklessness, or cruelty,they're forgiven, romanticized, even sanctified, because they embody traits traditionally associated with masculine greatness.

So when we step back, we see that Rowling's narrative doesn't just operate in a patriarchal world: it actively endorses patriarchal values. The story rewards characters who conform to traditional masculinity, regardless of gender, and punishes or ridicules those who don't. Emotionality, care, and vulnerability —whether in men or women— are dismissed or treated as weaknesses. And even when characters are powerful, if they possess feminine-coded traits, that power is portrayed as dangerous, unstable, or even evil.

The result is a world where gender roles are rigid, and where only patriarchal traits —strength, control, intellect, emotional repression— are validated. That’s not just a flaw in the world-building; it’s a political stance embedded in the structure of the narrative itself.