#let me make a ship name for coop and harry

[olipeaksforever]

that moment when albert & cooper meet kim and harry... things happen...

bonus under the cut!

[fruitcoops]

hey! i love your work so much and i had an idea. what about the whole team going to pride? or maybe just the cubs or coops, but i would love to see the whole team supporting and maybe breaking out flags of their own. :)))

Happy Pride, everyone!!! It has been such a wild year, but I hope you all find comfort and joy during this month <3 I'm sending you all love and hugs (or high-fives, if you prefer), as well as positive vibes for the summer. SW credit belongs to @lumosinlove as always!

Credit to @queercanoe for the the rainbow bracelet idea <3

“This is…this is really nice,” Sirius said as they stood in line for popsicles. His face glowed with happiness and Remus squeezed his hand where it laid over his shoulder.

“Better than last year?”

He hummed in thought. “I like being here without the Cup and all the cameras. It’s just us.”

“And half the team,” Remus added.

“True,” Sirius laughed, bending down to kiss his forehead. Some of the glitter Lily had managed to sprinkle over his head and smear on his cheeks fell onto Remus’ shirt, and he brushed it off with a laugh. “Love you.”

“Love you, too. The kids are still arguing.”

Sirius glanced behind them and snorted; on the other end of the block, Leo hitched Logan higher on his back as he held Finn’s baseball cap out of reach. Talker and James had started an impromptu game of volleyball with a stray balloon, and the sight of Regulus playing peekaboo with Harry using his pride flag cape sent a burst of happy butterflies through Remus’ stomach.

“D’you think they’ve even noticed we’re gone?”

“Doubt it.”

They tapped their popsicles together in a toast and meandered back to the group—the afternoon heat toned down some of the manic energy of the morning parade, and Remus was content to just wander hand-in-hand with his fiancé for a while.

Not your fiancé for long, he reminded himself as the ice cooled his mouth. Just five more days, and then you’ll have a ring, too.

He stood on his toes, still a little sore from dancing earlier in the day, and kissed Sirius’ cheek. “What was that for?”

“Nothing. Just ‘cause I love you.”

Sirius let out a slow breath and squeezed him a little tighter around the shoulders, catching a drip of syrupy red before it slid down to his elbow. “This is the perfect day.”

“It is, isn’t it? Ooo, blue raspberry.”

“Can I have a taste?”

“Of c—” Remus was cut off by warm lips against his own, shorting out every braincell in one fell swoop. You sly little shit, he thought, smiling into the kiss as Sirius dipped him back.

They straightened up after a moment and Sirius raised his eyebrows thoughtfully. “Yeah, that’s pretty good.”

“Your lips are purple.”

He licked his own half-melted popsicle before dragging Remus in for one more kiss, though both of them were almost laughing too hard for his plan to work. “There. Now we match.”

“Thanks, babes.”

“Hey!” Finn cupped his hands around his mouth, clearly giving up on retrieving his hat. “Are you done yet? I was promised popsicles!”

Remus flipped him off and pulled Sirius down by the collar of his shirt, suddenly uncaring of the stickiness making its chilly way down his forearm. It was their day to do that, after all; their day to be flamboyantly affectionate to anyone in sight, regardless of contracts and media and expectations. It was a day drenched in popsicle sugar where he could turn his soon-to-be-husband’s lips more purple than the dahlias he loved so much.

“You could’ve just said ‘no’,” Finn remarked as they rejoined the group, both a little flushed.

“As if you’ve kept your hands to yourself,” Remus teased, gesturing to the various smudges in Finn’s face paint.

He hesitated, then shrugged. “Good point.”

“I have them on occasion.” A burst of giggling caught both their attention and softness bloomed in Remus’ chest as Sirius tossed Harry a few inches into the air, making rocket ship noises. Next to him, Leo had set Logan down so he could lift Katie up and tickle her until she shrieked with joy.

“God, they’re cute,” Finn said around a mouthful of syrup-soaked ice. The look in his eyes was unmistakably fond, and Remus knew it was reflected on his own face.

“They are. The boyfriends aren’t bad, either.”

Finn snorted, then spluttered as he nearly spat out his popsicle, sending Remus into peals of laughter. “Stop it!” he complained, though the didn’t sound very upset at all. “I’m gonna get a brain freeze!”

“A brain freeze?” Sirius turned to Harry with exaggerated shock.

“Oh, no!” Harry gasped. Behind them, James stifled his smile in the side of Lily’s neck.

“It’s not lookin’ good, buddy,” Finn said with false gravity. “Popsicles are a dangerous food.”

Harry made grabby hands until Finn settled him on his hip, then took his face between two chubby hands and looked deep into his eyes. “Your lips are blue,” he proclaimed after a long moment.

“Are they?”

“Uh-huh. Tremzy’s got red lips, an’ Knutty’s got red lips, and Mama has pink lips, and Uncle Pads has purple lips.” Harry poked the side of his mouth. “You’ve gotta have purple lips, too.”

Finn raised his eyebrows at Remus over Harry’s shoulder. “Not a chance, Harzy.”

“We’re better kissers anyway,” Leo said with a grin as he sidled up and gave Finn a light peck. “Better, Pocket Pots?”

Harry stuck his tongue between his teeth in a comical imitation of Sirius’ concentration face; Remus shoulders shook as he held back his amusement. “Almonds.”

“What?”

“Almost,” Sirius corrected gently. “Not almonds. Close, though.”

“Tremzy!” Harry called. Logan looked up from Katie, who was quite happily upside down as he swung her like a clock pendulum. “You’ve gotta make Harzy’s lips purple!”

“Do I?” Logan glanced back down. “Can I set you down, ma princesse?”

“No!”

“Okay,” he laughed, hauling her over with careful steps. Finn leaned down to kiss him; over his shoulder, Leo and Harry made faces at each other.

“This is perfect,” Sirius murmured, resting his forehead against Remus’ (admittedly sweaty) hair. Remus closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and let the stress of wedding planning roll off his back. He could be surrounded by their family in a sea of color for just a little longer—they could be there together.

“I’m proud to be with you,” he said as Regulus clambered onto Leo’s back for ‘a better view’.

It was a cheesy sentiment, but they had never shied away from romcom moments before. He felt Sirius’ soft huff of breath on his temple. “Re…”

I’ll never get tired of the way you say my name. “That’s me.”

The sigh turned to quiet laughter and a kiss. “We are such a cliché.”

“But you love it.”

“Damn right I do.” His lips were sweet and a little sticky, still; Remus wanted to drown in the feeling. “I will always be proud to be with you.”

“Uncle Pads!”

“Yes?” Sirius lifted him out of Finn’s arms with a dramatic groan. “You’re growing up too fast!”

Harry squished his cheeks, then poked the tip of his nose. “Why don’t you wear rainbows?”

Sirius frowned slightly. “I’m wearing rainbows right now.”

“But you only wear them now.”

“You want me to wear rainbows every day?” He cast a look at Remus, who half-shrugged.

“You do look good.”

“Everybody should wear rainbows all the time,” Harry declared. Down the street, a series of party poppers went off, followed by loud cheering from another group.

“Excuse me?” a timid voice asked. Remus startled slightly and turned around; a small group of teenagers was huddled by the massive balloon arch. One young man held his phone up. “Could we—uh, could we get a picture with you guys?”

“Do you want me to take it for you?” Leo offered as Finn took Harry again.

The kid’s eyes went wide, and he nodded enthusiastically. “Sure, thanks!”

“Alright, on three!” Leo squinted in the sunshine as they gathered in a semicircle. “One, two, three, smile!”

“Could we get one with you, too?” one of the girls asked when he lowered the camera.

Sirius took the camera as they shuffled around and swapped positions, crowding close to the rainbow balloons while Harry played with Remus’ colorful suspenders. “Ready? Say cheese!”

“Cheese!” they chorused.

“I got a couple, just in case.” He handed the phone back to the first boy with a smile. “Are you guys having a good time?”

“Yeah, this is amazing,” he answered, a little breathless. “It’s—this is so cool. Thanks again.”

“Pas de problem.”

Remus glanced over just in time to see the girl bump her own rainbow bracelet with Leo’s; both of them were grinning broadly. “Have fun today, okay?” he said, giving the shortest of the group a high five. A jumble of goodbyes answered before they hurried back into the crowd, whispering among themselves while their pins flashed in the sun.

“They were cute,” Sirius said, watching them go with an indecipherable look. “Feels good to know it meant something, y’know?”

“It always does,” Remus agreed, snuggling against his side despite the heat. “I wish—”

Sirius looked down at him when he faltered; Harry yawned so wide his eyes closed. “What?”

“I wish we had this when we were kids.”

Regulus and Leo tumbled out of the rapidly-growing crowd, bickering over who got which part of the cotton candy, while Kasey stood as still as he could so Natalie could finish the small bi flag on his cheek. Sirius’ whole face lit up as he watched them. “It’s even better now.”

Remus watched the second wave of the parade build around them—people of every shape and size were decked out in a whole spectrum of colors, turning the street into a living rainbow in the afternoon sun. He tucked his hand into Sirius’ back pocket and laced their free hands together, listening to his heartbeat under his cheek. “This is the best thing we’ve ever done.”

“Coming to Pride?”

“No.” He held their hands up, and Sirius’ ring caught the light. “This.”

[peggyrose19]

Midnight Kisses

HAPPY NEW YEAR LOVELIES!! I’M MANIFESTING A HAPPY 2021 DAMMIT!! SO ENJOY MY PAINFULLY FLUFFY MIDNIGHT KISS FICS FOR THE SW SHIPS. THESE ARE SHIT CAUSE I STARTED THEM AT 9PM BUT IT’S FINE.

I’ll stop yelling now. I really wanna explain all of these but I’m not going to because there’s honestly no need, I just tend to over-explain things. So enjoy all the fluff and love in these little one-shots. Characters from the amazingly talented @lumosinlove. I wish you all the most boring, uneventful 2021 <333

Coops

“Look, baby,” Remus whispered, pointing up at the sky, although the fireworks were hard to miss. 

“They’re beautiful,” Sirius murmured. He wasn’t looking at the fireworks exploding in the night sky, but the man in his arms. Remus glanced down at him, catching his eye.

“What?”

Sirius shook his head. “Nothing. Just… happy. I love you.” 

Remus smiled, seeming to understand what he meant. He remembered the late night, exactly a year earlier, when he had swallowed those words down, all dim light and flushed cheeks in the back of a car, hiding from the world. Not that it had mattered. 

“I love you too,” he said back, pressing a kiss to Sirius’ cheek, and then his lips. It wasn’t yet midnight, wouldn’t be for a few hours, but Remus didn’t care. He could kiss Sirius, his fiancé, in wide open now without fear. It was a privilege he was never taking for granted. 

When midnight did come, and fireworks were set off once more, Remus kissed him again, surrounded by their friends and family as they all rung in the new year. Sirius was sweet and pliant beneath his hands, arms wrapped tightly around him, never letting go. 

It was the perfect start to a new year. 

O’Knutzy

“Happy New Year, baby!” Logan shouted, arm wrapped around Finn’s neck. 

“Lo, that was the oven,” Leo sighed from the kitchen. “It’s 11:32. Honestly, we should not have let him drink so much.”

Finn just shrugged, accepting the wet kisses Logan was now planting to his cheek and neck. 

Leo fought a smile as he watched them. So maybe drunk Logan was kind of endearing. 

“Here.” He held out one of the pigs-in-blankets from the batch cooling on the counter, and Logan took it happily in his mouth.

“Yum,” he managed around it, grinning at Leo. Finn accepted one too, still caught by Logan’s arms around him. Leo ate one too, then walked around the island to their side, wrapping his arms around them both. He kissed Logan’s cheek. 

“I’m glad I get to spend the new year with the two of you,” he murmured. 

“We’re glad too, baby,” Finn replied, twisting to press a quick kiss to his lips. “I love you.”

“Love you too, Fish.”

“I love you Knutty!” Logan yelled, and they both jumped. 

“Oh, Tremzy,” Finn sighed. “What are we gonna do with you.” 

Logan’s eyes lit up. “Kiss me?”

Leo gave him a quick kiss and pulled away. “At midnight,” he promised when Logan pouted at the loss of contact. 

“Well, midnight needs to hurry up and get here then,” he grumbled. Finn just laughed and tugged him towards the couch.

“C’mon, let’s wait for the ball to drop.”

Logan let himself be pulled, collapsing nearly on top of Finn and making no move to adjust his position. Finn flipped the television on and pulled a blanket over them, leaving room for Leo once he was done in the kitchen. 

A moment later, Leo joined them in watching the commercials currently playing, snuggling into Logan’s side, smiling happily. They watched quietly, enjoying each other’s silent company, until it was nearly time. 

At five minutes to, Leo pulled the champagne from the cabinet. Logan was nearly bouncing up and down. Leo wasn’t entirely sure he wanted to give him more alcohol. 

As the countdown began, Finn took the bottle from Leo. When they hit one, he popped it open, and all three of them cheered. With wide grins, Finn and Leo kissed Logan’s cheeks, and then each other, and then Logan one by one.

They drank their champagne and kissed again, sloppy and sticky and in love. 

When they fell back onto the couch, tangled together in a pile of limbs and blankets, it was to the sound of fireworks outside and the pounding of their own hearts, the taste of champagne on their lips, and the overwhelming feeling of the happiness that was to come.

Thoelle

Thomas still couldn’t quite believe his luck. He couldn’t believe it when he woke in the morning to Noelle asleep at his side, or the days she would pick him up at the rink, or the kiss she gave him each night before bed.

He certainly didn’t believe it was two minutes to midnight and she was by his side, arm around his waist as they waited impatiently for the ball to drop and the hour hand to fall to the 12. 

“What’re you thinking about?” she asked him, dark hair falling in a curtain over her shoulder. He ran a hand through it, in love with the silkiness and the way always she melted under his touch. 

“You,” he replied softly.

“What a charmer you are,” she murmured, but her cheeks were flushed. 

“Still can’t believe it.” 

“Believe what?” She had turned more towards him now.

“That I have you. Still feels like a dream sometimes.” 

She smiled, ducking her head. Noelle wasn't usually one to shy away from attention, but sometimes he could still get her. Thomas leaned down and lightly kissed her nose, making her laugh and look back up at him.

“You wanna know something?” she asked.

“What?”

“I love you.”

“I love you, too,” Thomas replied almost instantly, on instinct. Noelle laughed a little, eyes wide. 

“You do?”

“Of course.”

She opened her mouth to respond, but was interrupted by a loud shout, the countdown beginning around them. Instead she just grinned up at him.

“You ready for a new year?”

“With you by my side? Hell, yeah.”

Together, they shouted the last few numbers, “Four...three...two...one!” 

As cheers erupted around them, Thomas leaned down and kissed Noelle softly.

“I love you, Noelle Tremblay,” he murmured against her lips. She pulled away and laughed, giddy and free, wrapped in his arms and warmth. 

She kissed him again, whispering back, “I love you too, Thomas Walker.” 

O’Darwin

Kasey’s constant was back, at least for a little while. 

It had been a surprise, to see Alex standing on their doorstep three days before New Years, a suitcase in one hand and a bottle of champagne in the other. Natalie had jumped on him instantly, taking the bottle from him and kissing him, tugging him into the apartment by the collar of his jacket.

“Alex O’Hara,” she had scolded him, “How dare you show up here unannounced?” Alex had just grinned.

“I wanted to surprise you.”

Kasey had shaken his head, kissing Alex softly and settling by his side on the couch. He was glad Alex was home, even if it was just for a few days. He had missed him.

Now it was nearly midnight on New Year’s Eve. All three of them were drunk, happily sequestered in the apartment. Natalie and Alex were dancing to bad pop music, leftover lights from Christmas sending rainbows dancing across their faces as they moved, with glitter in their hair and champagne on their lips. They had meant to save it for midnight, truly. 

“Kase, come dance with us!” Natalie laughed, grabbing his hand and tugging him off the sofa. He let her, smiling softly at the two of them.

He looked up as the clock on the mantle began chiming, and fireworks began outside.

“Happy New Year,” he murmured to them and Natalie and Alex both cheered. They kissed each other, and then him, and Kasey smiled at the taste. 

Beginning the new year with his two favorite people wasn’t so bad after all. 

Nuny

The phone woke Jackson from his nap. He answered it groggily, not bothering to read the caller name.

“Hello?” he asked grumpily. 

“Nado?” a familiar voice asked and suddenly he was wide awake.

“Zhenya. Hey. How are you?”

“I’m good. It is uh… how you say? Midnight here.”

“Oh!” Jackson squinted at his watch, quickly doing the math on the time difference. “I guess it is. Well, happy new year.”

“Thank you.” Evgeni fell silent for a long moment. “I’m wish you were here,” he said finally, breaking the silence. 

Jackson sighed. “Me too. I miss you.” 

“Miss you. I see you soon, da?”

He smiled. “Yeah. Yeah, Kuns, soon.”

“I’m kiss you then.” 

That made Jackson laugh quietly. “Yeah, you kiss me then.” He bit his lip. “Go to sleep, Zhenya. I’ll call you again in the morning.” 

“Okay. I’m call later.”

“Good, okay. Happy New Year, Kuns.”

“Happy New Year.”

Jily

Harry was getting big. It felt like just a week ago he had been a tiny newborn, fitting in the palm of James’ hand with room to spare. Lily didn’t mind. Usually. He was nearly a year old now, able to crawl all around the house and make endless babbling noises, talking to his stuffed animals and the bugs in the garden. 

He was crawling around the living room now, dressed in a new onesie that wouldn’t fit him in another two weeks, picking at the carpet and up way past his bedtime. 

Lily and James had missed the actual countdown, preoccupied with chasing their little gremlin around the house and failing to put him to bed. Even little Harry seemed to sense the excitement in the air.

It was nearly one in the morning by the time Harry finally fell asleep, stuffed lion clutched in his tiny fingers. The two exhausted parents collapsed onto the couch, leaning into each other as their eyes slipped shut.

“I can’t believe he stayed up… for six extra hours,” Lily mumbled without opening her eyes. James just grumbled. “We missed the countdown, too.” 

“‘S okay,” he answered sleepily, “We can do it next year.” 

“Yeah.” They fell silent. Eventually, Lily said, “We should get to bed.” 

They stumbled to their feet and upstairs to their bedroom, too tired to even bother with brushing their teeth. They just fell into bed, curled up together exhausted and happy.

“Happy New Year, Lily,” James whispered into the darkness.

“Happy New Year,” she whispered back, and kissed him sweetly. She snuggled closer, laying her head on his chest, and the two fell instantly asleep to the distant sound of leftover fireworks. 

[collecting-stories]

Initiative - Harry  Bingham

Request: 26 w harry bingham? ☺️

A/N: My first time writing The Society. I played with the wording of the prompt a little to fit the story better. 

✰ ✰ ✰ ✰

“Well, aren’t you looking great.” You laughed, walking into the bedroom on the second floor. While every other room in the house felt like it was being taken over by kids you could barely remember going to school with, this room was untouched. Save for, of course, one occupant who was laying in the king sized bed, one foot sticking out from under the covers, “Kelly really did a number on you.”

The lump on the bed groaned and rolled over, revealing your best friend. He sat up, glaring at you as he combed his hair with his hands, “I don’t give two shits about Kelly.” He muttered.

“I can tell.” You replied, sitting at the end the bed, “you’re obviously coping really well. It’s applaudable.”

“What do you want?” Harry groaned, sitting up in bed. He just wanted to go back to sleep. To lay under the covers until all these people were out of his house and his parents were home. He just needed to rewind or fast forward, whatever would get him home faster.  

You turned to look at him, getting a better picture of your friend’s current state now that you could see him clearly. Mussed hair, bloodshot eyes, he looked like he hadn’t bathed in days. You couldn’t help the frown that crossed your face at the sight of him. It wasn’t that you expected Harry to be taking any of this well, he’d been on a rampage since the first night, but this was worse than you thought.  

“I wanted to make sure you were okay, I know this shit is scary.”

“Oh do you?” Harry laughed, “you know what fucking shit is going on out there? I heard you agree with Cassandra that we should all be sharing houses. Thanks, this is fucking awesome.” He shouted, startling you slightly.  

“Yeah I did agree with Cass...I think we need to be proactive about what’s happening.”  

“Great well, in the meantime my house is full of fucking people and all my friends are running around play pretend with Cass.”

“You need a serious reality check babe,” you replied, “whatever is happening to us...we need to be proactive and Cass is the only one doing anything. Now...come on, get up and get dressed, you’re making me depressed just sitting here.”

“Some friend you are.” Harry grumbled, throwing himself back down on the bed and pulling his blankets up once again.  

You’d been friends with Harry forever, your parents worked together, you had almost always ended up in the same class, it was just meant to be. Or at least, being friends seemed meant to be for him, since he jumped at the opportunity to date Kelly, and had been since freshman year. You, on the other hand, existed in some romantic cliche universe where you were totally head over heels for your best friend.  

“You can’t sulk forever.”  

“Did you only come over to bother me?” He asked, muffled slightly through the blanket but you understood him.  

“No, I came over to tell you that I cannot possibly stay in my house one more day-”

“See it’s driving you crazy too.”

“Have you ever roomed with Gwen, Olivia, and Madison?” You replied, “I’m about ready to eat a bullet.”

Harry moved the blanket away, sitting up once more and scooting himself to the end of the bed to sit beside you, “let me get this straight...you come over here, bitching to me about how I should follow Cassandra’s leadership but then you hate it too?”

“I don’t hate it. I think it’s a good idea...I just wish I had gotten better house mates. Besides, this whole thing is insane Harry, we’re all just playing it by ear.” You admitted. “Have you talked to Kelly? What’s she doing?”

“I’m over that.” He replied, getting up and walking to the mini fridge he had in the corner to grab a bottle of water, he could feel the headache setting in now that he was on his feet.  

“You’re over that? Please...this place really must be turning everything upside down if you’ve decided that you’re over Kelly.” You almost couldn’t believe your ears when he told you and you definitely didn’t want to get your hopes up. Just because he was ‘over’ Kelly didn’t mean he was ready to fall into your arms.  

“Yeah well, believe it.”  

“So what then, she breaks up with you and just like magic you’re cured?” You joked, “no more begging for her to come back and crying over her in bed? Cause I’ll say you were doing a bang up job when I came in.”

“I told you that wasn’t about her. Besides, I have feelings for someone else.” He replied, shrugging as if it was totally obvious that he was thinking about someone new so soon after he and Kelly broke up.  

“Wow, you move fast.”

“Yeah well after Kelly broke things off I kind of realized that it might not be her I was so in love with all this time.”

“Mystery crush have a name?” You asked, watching him as he came to sit down next to you again. “Or you gonna keep that a secret from your oldest and dearest friend?”

“My oldest and dearest friend who’s jumped ship to Cassandra’s side.” He replied.  

“You’re such a baby Harry, people need leadership and Cass is leading. Be mad all you want but she’s only doing what needs to be done. You all wanted her to have answers and now you crucify her for it. You better be telling me that I’m this secret love of your life cause otherwise I’m out the door for good. Until you come to your senses.” You said, crossing your arms.  

Harry nodded his head, lips pursed as if he was thinking about what you had said before he finally opened his mouth, “you are.”

“What?”

“You are...the secret love of my life.”  

“Don’t fuck with me Bingham. I'm not even in the mood for your shit today.” You replied.  You weren’t going to sit here and fall for some bored practical joke that he and all his buddies could laugh about later.  

“I’m not fucking with you, I’m serious. Kelly breaking up with me was the moment of clarity I needed.”

“You sound like your mom.” You laughed.  

“Come on, you seriously don’t believe me?”

“No.” You shook your head, there was no way you were going to believe something as outlandish as Harry liking you back. “It does fuel my theory that we’re in some kind of parallel universe though.”

“Parallel universe?” Harry laughed, “we’re not in a parallel universe, this isn’t a sci-fi novel. And I’m being serious. I like you. I’m not fucking with you...though I wouldn’t mind fucking you.”

“Oh god, you are the same Harry,” you laughed, standing when he scooted closer to you. “there’s no way I’m even kissing you after you’ve been cooped up under those covers for days. Babe, you smell like a locker room.”  

“Fine,” he replied, “I’m gonna take a shower,” he stopped at the door, looking back at you. “Since Cassandra has her new initiatives, you should probably join me. Ya know, to save water.”  

“To save water?” You laughed.

“What? You’re the one who told me that I needed to make an effort? You’re not gonna turn around and change your mind now are you?” He said, grinning at you. And damn if his smile couldn’t make you do anything he wanted. 

-

[fromthadiningtable]

BEST OF LUCK

(Set in an AU with Victorian era! Harry) You love another from afar, but your hand is already promised to a very snarky and at times, pompous Mr. Styles. Your mother and father are rooting for the relationship wholeheartedly while you pine for some distant, beautiful creature. Will you condemn yourself to love someone who’s affections you can’t reciprocate? Or will you finally admit the truth and live your life as you’d wish?

Warnings: angst ??

A thick fog covered the ground, hovering in a ghostly fashion like some restless spirit waiting to be seen. The sun was just breaking into the morning sky but the fog and the blanket of clouds blocked it from coming out into full view, casting a faint yellow glow in its place in the eastern sky. The birds in their respective trees on the edge of the expansive land in front of you, sang their tune, letting you know that the day was finally beginning. Though empty, the glittering fields standing in between the woodlands held some sort of story, a past that needed recollecting. You’d recall playing with your cousins, tumbling down the small hills and getting dried grass all over your clothes and in your hair. The woods held all of your secrets and magic that you had created in your childhood, and they’d never utter a word.

Your family’s home stood behind you nearly two hundred yards away, each soul still sound asleep in their bedrooms. The brick farmhouse was beginning to show its age, the once deep red hue was now a peach color and the black shutters were beginning to chip away from the many storms and years that plagued it. The glass in the windows was even aging, apparent from the ripple-like appearance it had. The roof had patches of shingles that were either missing or disheveled. The chickens in the coop behind the house were clucking and like the birds in the trees, were ready for the day to start. The grass beneath you was damp with dew, you let your feet relish in the feeling, squelching every time you dared move them. You looked down and saw the dirt and grass clippings caked to your feet, knowing your mother would have something to say when you decided to meander back to the house. But for now, in your white nightgown and your hair tied back with some string, you would be one with the ground and the sky that threatened to brighten at any moment. When you had these little meetings with the earth in the early morning, you felt invincible like nothing could tear you away from it.

That was true until she came.

To others, she may have just been a passing figure like a ship in the middle of the sea when all is quiet and dark. To you, she was always present in your mind, never ignored. Your heartbeat quickened when she came around the side of the house, carrying feed for the chickens that were still continuing on with their noise. Her golden hair cascaded down her back in waves, tied back much like yours was but with a white ribbon. Simple accents like this always drew your attention for the fact that that it seemed so effortless on her part. A ribbon, a different colored garment or even a slight blush on her cheeks, it always causes you to take notice.

As she neared the chicken coop, her eyes never met yours. Desperation was all you could feel, desperation for her to look up and see you sitting in the grass almost like a child, for her to meet your eyes and smile. Only on two occasions could you remember her smiling at you, a genuine smile, not those smiles she would exchange when she passed you in the house or when you swapped pleasantries throughout the day. A real smile was what you longed for. The type of smile that would send you over the moon if she dared let her guard down for even just a moment.

She never wavered though. She always kept about her business and didn’t give you a second thought, at least that was what it felt like. You knew in the deepest parts of your heart that even if she did happen to glance up one day and acknowledge your existence, you might just die on the spot which could be even more damaging than the fact that she was in her own world without you. The longing you felt to be under her skin, to smell her hair and meld your bodies together, it drove you insane.

Her name, was Elle. Elle didn’t come from a prominent or wealthy family, you weren’t even sure she had a family at all. There always seemed to be a loneliness buried under her warm exterior but you couldn’t be sure. If she was lonely, her demeanor never let on.

She tip toed around the chicken coop, being careful not to step on any of the birds running underneath her feet, spreading the feed around and letting it run through her fingers. She smiled to herself and your heart fluttered inside of its cage — did she know you were watching? Or did the thought of another cross her mind and cause this look of delight?

After spreading the rest of the chicken’s breakfast around the ground, she wiped her hands on the apron tied around her waist and looked up to the sky. Her nostrils flared as she took in a deep inhale and shifted her body from side to side, allowing the farm air along with the forest scent fill her nose. You stared unashamedly — mesmerized by every movement and facial expression she made. Elle was a beautiful girl, there was no doubt about that but it was more so her elegance even while doing the most trivial jobs, that had you wrapped around her finger. There was an innocence about her and worldliness all in one. It seemed like nothing bad could touch her while at the same time, daunting things had been seen by those bright blue eyes of hers. Of course, this was merely an assumption made due to lack of conversation and even eye contact for that matter.

“Y/N!” You nearly jumped out of your skin at the shrill voice that came from your right side. You clutched your heart and immediately turned to see your mother standing over you, already dressed for the day and probably disapproving of your nightgown clad body.

“Mother!” You said quickly, secretly terrified that she had read your mind or even worse — saw you staring at Elle. You scrambled up to get off of the ground and brush the earth off of you.

“What in God’s name are you doing out here again? I mean goodness child, it’s barely dawn and you’ll catch a chill.” You loved your mother dearly but the nagging was incessant. You knew it was all an act of love but sometimes you just wished you could communicate with her in only looks rather than words. It sure would save a lot of time.

“I was just —“ you tried to defend yourself but got interrupted.

“Ah ah — none of your excuses. Harry is on his way and we must be hasty to get you ready by the time the carriage arrives.” She granted you a look of disapproval as she grasped your wrist, not too forcefully but firmly. Your heart sank at the sound of his name. Harry. The man your father had hand picked for you to marry, the man you could stand for a mere five minutes until your blood was boiling and you would have to flee the room. A good man, your mother would always remind you and you suspected she was trying to convince herself rather than you. Really, he wasn’t a terrible human being, but you had other predelictions and those didn’t happen to include Harry. He was agreeable at times, but had a bad habit of making passive comments that had hints of poison hidden behind them.

“Pardon me mother but Harry, really? On such short notice I — “ for a second time, but it wouldn’t be the last, she cut you off.

“Yes, child, today! We discussed this earlier in the week, your father and I, and you as we sat and ate dinner the other day. You seemed very partial to it. Why the sudden change?” She rambled on. The truth was, you really didn’t remember the conversation she spoke of at all. This happened often, you’d be off deep in some day dream, a long reverie and your mother would be going on. However you wouldn’t hear it, her words were muffled as you sunk deeper into your fantasy. You would simply nod and act like you’d hung on to every word she said.

“No change mother,” You squeaked out, snapped out of your trance, fearful of being found out again. “I’m actually quite looking forward to it.” You lied right through your teeth, your jaw aching from clenching it tight.

Guiltily, you followed your mother up the path to the front of the house. Walking by the garden in the back, you took one last glance at Elle. She was checking the vegetable patch for any tomatoes or peppers that may have sprung up over night. You held your gaze until you rounded the corner of the house, the orange brick nearly swiping your arm as you lacked attention to it.

“Come on!” Your mother grabbed your hand, apparently you weren’t walking fast enough for her taste. The scene would probably appear ridiculous to an onlooker, a grown woman being dragged to the house by her mother to force her to dress for a man she would never love. Such was your life as of now though, and there didn’t seem to be anyway to change it.

The giant slate shaded front door stood in front of the two of you as you came around the house. Your mother let go of your hand and looked down the gravel curved driveway for what you assumed must be Harry.

“Is he coming soon?” You asked, praying the answer was no and that he’d arrive later or hopefully never, you thought privately.

“Y/N I didn’t startle you out of your daydreams for my health, yes he’ll be here within hours — maybe minutes!” Your mother rolled her eyes at your question. She was a loving woman really, she just had a patience as thin as freshly, frozen ice and her neuroticism seemed to grow with age.

Your stomach began to turn at the thought of your soon-to-be-betrothed arriving at any second. The anxious feeling would always begin in your hands, a slight tingle and then your chest would begin to ache. It would start to course throughout your veins and always affect your stomach the worst — not necessarily nausea but a butterfly sensation that would cause feelings of impending doom. It wasn’t necessarily the man himself who caused this panic inside of you but rather the thought of never having Elle and forcing a feeling towards someone, no matter how incorrigible the person might be. None of it seemed fair but then again, your father always told you nothing ever would be.

Your mother pulled open the large door and waved you inside, heading straight for the staircase in the foyer to get you upstairs and dressed.

“Mother really, I can do it myself,” You huffed, not wanting her to think this was disrespect but rather an attempt at some alone time with your imagination.

“Nonsense, you never pick out anything proper.”

You wanted to scream. In some ways, she wanted you to be independent but in many others, she was suffocating. You’d been alive for two decades and some change and had enough sense to pick out your own outfit for meeting a suitor. You knew she would never let up though, so letting her have her way was easier than the alternative.

She frantically rummaged through your closet and chest of drawers, a desperate attempt to find something to make your second meeting with the man perfect. You almost scoffed to yourself at the thought of any interaction between the two of you being perfect.

“Try this one,” Your mother chose a light baby blue frock, practically tossing it behind her and almost hitting your face. You glanced up towards the ceiling, asking whatever god there was to please rescue you from this entire day.

“The color’s too much,” you had to admit, holding the dress up to you in the mirror and frowning at its garish flare against your skin.

“Alright, well — lets see,” she continued to throw around every item of clothing in the room frantically. After a few minutes of waiting on another piece of fabric to come flying at your head, you decided to take a seat on your bed. You sighed as your body sunk into the mattress, the dull ache in your gut still nagging at you.

“Now I think this one will definitely do,” she carried a cream dress out of the closet, smiling at the item of clothing like it was your matrimonial garb. You did have to admit that it was a simple but pretty gown that seemed to pair with your skin tone and wasn’t too gaudy. You rose up from the bed and reached a hand out to touch the fabric softly. You rubbed some of the cotton in between two of your fingers, your mother staring at you, waiting on approval.

“Well go on, try it on,” handing the dress to you, she began to pick up some of the others and return them to their proper place in the room.

You removed your clothes, never ashamed of your mother being in the room as you had an unspoken bond regardless of the bickering and nagging. Once stripped, you slipped into the creamy colored linen and turned to your mirror against the wall. You couldn’t be sure but you swore the woman in the mirror was almost smiling and had a twinge of confidence gleaming in her eyes. This dress would do.

Your mother turned to you, and smiled broadly. She spread her arms out and approached you, embracing you fully.

“You look absolutely beautiful, how is he going to resist?” She giggled and gave your cheek a quick peck.

“Now let’s do something with that hair.” She fussed, and you laughed to yourself, knowing that her comments always followed with another gouge at you. However, this was just how the two of you operated and it would probably always be this way. It wasn’t conventional but nothing in your life even closely resembled conventionality anymore.

———

You took a deep breath while doing one more look over yourself in the mirror. Your anxiety had been a small seed at first but grew quickly driven by the incessantness of your mother and the earlier sighting of Elle. Now your trepidation had exceeded itself and you found yourself constantly checking the window to see that black and gold ornate carriage rolling down the gravel past the forestry on both sides of the house in a familiar fashion. You’d seen many carriages coming down the road, whether it be family or close friends of your parents and even friends from your schooling in earlier childhood years, but those visits had never caused such a frantic and confused feeling inside of you before.

You’d been pacing the room for some time and decided to take a seat in the chair beside your window, grabbing a book by your bed that you’d been working on finishing. As you got sucked into the story, you didn’t even notice that the carriage had come crunching down the gravel road and was nearly halfway to your door.

“Darling! Y/N!” You faintly heard your mother call from downstairs. Your head fell into your hands and you realized it was finally time, time to face the music and begin this silly charade. After resting your head for a moment and trying to gain some courage, you looked outside with a short glance. The carriage was still coming down the gravel driveway and stopped just before the front door of your quaint little home. The driver halted the horses and stepped down off of his seat to open the door for the man of the hour. You’d only met him once before at a gathering in town, however the meeting was short lived and hadn’t gone well. You hadn’t really given him much thought until your parents had decided he would be your husband.

You saw one black boot step out of the carriage, and then a full body followed. His large green overcoat seemed too heavy for the weather and his curls were in a wild arrangement all over his head. He was brushing something off of his coat and you prayed he wouldn’t look up and see you peeking out of the window, spying from a distance. A white ruffled blouse was popping out from under the coat and his pants were perfect with no wrinkles in sight. This was a well put together man and you had no idea why he’d agree to marry you, a girl who couldn’t even make up her mind half of the time. He was speaking to the driver, probably giving instructions, and then your mother yelled more shrilly from the first story again.

“Y/N! Are you deaf?!”

You muttered curses to yourself and finally stood up, walking towards the door like it was the gallows and you were being marched towards your death. You felt a hard lump in your throat as you swallowed and sweat began to pool under your arms and near your forehead. You heard a firm knock at the front door and braced yourself for your mother to be overly zealous.

“Mr. Styles! What a pleasant day we’re having, made even better by your arrival.” She spoke calmly but you could sense the excitement she was holding back.

You took the stairs step by step, painfully slow, an act of self torture.

“It’s lovely to see you Mrs. Y/L/N, my day is already pleasant seeing you as well.” His English drawl was thick and he allowed every word to practically drip out of his mouth like honey. He didn’t enunciate but every word he spoke was clear, he was thoughtful with his speech.

You only had a few more steps left but you dared not look up from them. You feared you might fall or worse, your eyes would meet his and he’d have delusions of grandeur about the two of you together. You knew your mother was waiting for this to be a fairytale, for you and Harry to exchange only a glance and fall in love, having the perfect wedding and a child following soon after. It was embarrassing that she had this much hope, but only you felt this because your secret was still safe.

At the bottom of the stairs, you allowed yourself to glance up but never make eye contact at first. Luckily, Harry and your mother were still in conversation about the weather and catching up about their whereabouts like old friends. You had to admit, he did look quite dashing. His hair, wild but tamed in certain places and his dimples deepening into his cheek as he smiled at your mother’s pleasantries. His eyes gleamed and his teeth were almost blinding, and that jawline could slice any young woman’s heart in half. You felt like you had betrayed Elle by thinking of him like this, and a pang or guilt surged throughout you. You shook it off to be in the moment and not seem distant.

“Well might I say, you look stunning.” Harry turned from your mother to you, your cheeks instantly felt hot as you noticed his eyes wandering your entire body until he eventually met your gaze.

You tried your best to force out a smile and nodded your head slightly towards his direction. “Thank you, Mr. Styles. Lovely to see you.” You said curtly, the less conversation — the better.

“Y/N here has been elated since finding out you were coming to visit.” You could’ve slapped your mother for saying such a thing, she had to know that was a lie.

“Is that so?” He put his arms behind his back and turned on one heel to face you better. A fire grew within your belly when you noticed the triumphant smirk on his face, thinking he had you like putty in his hands.

You paused for a moment and decided now was the time to put on the sarcasm. Your first meeting with Harry had been quite the back and forth and it seemed it was going to be just the same this time. You suspected he knew this marriage wasn’t ideal in your eyes but for some reason he took some sick joy in the fact that you weren’t happy about it.

“Oh yes, elated doesn’t even begin to cover it.” You charged back at his smirk with your words. You both held each other’s stare for a few seconds, seeing who would break first.

Your mother looked back and forth between the two of you, gradually growing uncomfortable at this unspoken challenge. “Well I’ll leave you two to it then,” she said, too cheerily. She gave your back one pat and smiled at you quickly before going off into another part of the house. Now it was just and you Harry, staring each other down and allowing the silence to say more than you could.

“Is there any particular reason you’re not fond of me, Miss Y/L/N?” He finally asked, his eyes like laser beams directed right at you. His stare wasn’t harsh though, he did have soft eyes and expressions most of the time but a curiosity was burning behind those green, almost sea glass colored eyes. Most women must find him perfectly charming and handsome, a perfect match but you weren’t budging.

“No particular reason...besides all of them,” you smirked this time at your quip and absent mindedly shrugged, trying your very best to irritate the man and then maybe, just maybe, he’d leave.

Harry filled the air around you with a click of his tongue. “Such a shame.” You waited for a second part to his reverb but only received more intense eye contact, the two of you locking eyes, almost grappling, to see who would gain the upper hand.

“What’s the shame?” You shifted your feet slightly, growing tired of standing in the same position.

“That you’re not fond of me,” he boldly took one step closer to you. You stuck your chin out and raised an eyebrow to signal for him to elaborate.

“Well Miss Y/L/N, it’s just that...I’m quite fond of you so,” his smirk returned this time, the deep dimple dipping back into his cheek once more. He shuffled slightly, coat swinging behind him, trying to get closer to you.

You cleared your throat. “That is a shame Mr. Styles. I’m afraid however it’s really arranged marriages I’m not fond of, rather than you.”

“Arranged marriages are what the people of this world thrive on. My parent’s for example have had a happy arranged marriage fo’ twenty-five years.”

“Well good for them, I just don’t foresee the same for myself. Love is what truly counts in my eyes.” You crossed your arms, letting him know you were hard pressed and not budging on the subject.

He scoffed, saw your eyes widen and then tried to play it off as a cough. His smugness aggravated your nerves, you could feel it like a prickle on the back of your neck.

“You don’t share the same sentiment?” Your voice was edgy.

“Not exactly, no,” all the while he spoke, he was still looking you over and hiding a smile, which was still more of a snigger.

“Hmph, well to each his own I suppose,” you sighed deeply and rolled your eyes, not giving any inclination that you were worried about him noticing.

“Shall we go to the parlor?” He stepped back away from you and gestured to the room off to the left of the foyer. You didn’t respond with words but simply just nodded, it seemed conversation wouldn’t be conducive for the two of you today. The sound of your walking towards the parlor reminded you of the dreaded ticking of a clock, letting you know that time is slipping right through your fingers. Once in the room, your eyes flitted to the family paintings on the dark wooden walls. Staring back at you was your great-grandfather, a war hero, and aunt Sophia, who had been a midwife for nearly all her life. Your grandmother was above the fireplace, giving you a tight lipped smile. Your heart always softened at her portrait, you were close with her when she was alive and shared many fond memories together. Though grandmother was a stubborn woman, set in her quirky ways, she understood you and you wondered if you could have ever opened up to her about Elle and this marriage you opposed.

Harry was also looking around at the paintings and treasures on the shelves, walking slowly throughout the room and running his hand along the back of chaise opposite you. Your eyes fixated on his slender fingers and pondered what it might feel like to have them running down your back softly or tucking a stray hair behind your hair. Again, you shook those type of pleasant thoughts about him away. You’d only ever felt that way about Elle’s beautiful fingers, not quite as long as Harry’s, but dainty and gentle.

“The dress looks lovely on you, if I hadn’t reiterated that before.” Harry came around the side of the chaise, taking his green coat off and laying it beside him as he took a seat on the striped cushion. You tried not to let your expression change as you noticed his chest peeking out from under the white ruffled blouse. He had some kind of necklace on, a long silver chain you could barely see. His collarbones were noticeable as well as a few tiny chest hairs near his sternum.

“Thank you, nice of you to say,” you said, now smoothing away wrinkles of your dress in your lap.

“You say that as if I don’t always have nice things to say Y/N.” His expression was still one of complacent joy, a small smile on his face showing his front teeth slightly.

“You don’t seem to recall our first meeting, do you?” You remained standing, leaning on a matching striped high backed chair.

“I thought we got on quite well if my memory serves me correctly.” He sat up straight, getting ready to defend himself. You laughed, amused at his statement.

“I think our memories serve us in different ways, Harry.” You were more calm this time, getting used to the back and forth between the two of you.

“My apologies if your memories of me aren’t pleasant, I’ve been told I can be —“

“Difficult?” You interrupted, because whatever adjective he had in mind would be much too self serving. He laughed at this, a genuine, hearty laugh that filled the room all the way up to the ceiling.

“Was that amusing to you?” You asked him, genuinely confused.

Harry stood up now and began to take another lap around the room.

“Everything about you just confuses me Y/N, and yes, amuses me as well.” His hands were behind his back again as he inspected an old manuscript of the Bible on a bookshelf near the far window.

“Hm, good.” That was all you could manage to get out but this pleased you as it would confuse him even further. You were glad he wasn’t under the illusion you felt the same way and that you puzzled him. You’d rather be a mystery than understood.

“It’s not good,” this time he looked at you but his brow was furrowed and he seemed defeated. “It’s frustrating.”

“I’m sorry I...” You trailed off, realizing after saying it that you weren’t really apologetic. Frustrated? You thought, perfect.

“No....no, you’re not.” He pulled himself away from the shelves and looked deeply into your eyes, trying to decipher your code. Slowly, he began to walk toward you.

“But that’s what I like about you, you don’t seem to care.” His mouth was halfway turned into a smile, not in a smirk but more so in a satisfied manner.

Damned if I do, damned if I don’t, you thought. When you acted interested, he loved it and when you pushed away, the reaction was the same. How could you ever win?

He was now standing in front of you, towering like a giant in fairytales you’d read as a girl. There was a foot or two between your bodies but you knew he would want to close that gap in a matter of minutes. Your breath hitched in your throat at the thought of close contact, thinking of his fingers once more. Heat rose to your face, embarrassed of the thoughts you were having about him once again. Would he know you were thinking about him? Would Elle look in through the window and never see you in a different light like you so desperately wanted?

Goosebumps began to rise all over your arms and a shiver tumbled down your spine as he lifted a hand to your face, curling his index finger under your chin as you looked down at the wooden floor. A lump lodged itself into your throat as your anticipation grew. Gently, he tipped your face to look up at his. His eyes twinkled and the dimple nearly did you in, that knowing smile having you almost in pieces on the floor.

“You will love me one day Y/N,” he leaned down closer so you could feel his breath on your cheek. “Maybe not today, maybe not tomorrow but when you finally do, best of luck.” You were at a complete loss for words. His boldness terrified you and had you under a spell simultaneously. You cleared your throat to break through the tension in the air and clear both of your heads of whatever thoughts you were having. He removed his hand from your skin and you felt a longing to know what his touch felt like again. Stop this, you scolded yourself.

He stepped away from you, you felt like all of the air had been sucked out of your lungs. Anger and excitement coursed through your bloodstream. The triumphant grin on his face said it all, he was going to get his way. The question of all would be, would you let him?

Harry stopped in the door frame and turned to you for the last time that day.

“I’ll see you tomorrow Miss Y/L/N, I must cut our visit short for today. Just trust, I’ll be back.” his back was to you once more and you felt your eyebrows knit back together. His words weren’t threatening but rather an assurance on his part that he wasn’t going anywhere. You could be mysterious and off putting but he’d still come back time after time, and that frightened you. You walked over to the window and saw Elle, picking flowers in one of the fields beside the house. Her back was facing you, bent down picking your favorite wildflowers that always popped up in the pastures this time of year. She reached up to tuck a stray hair back into the ribbon holding it together, then wiped her brow. What I would give to know what she’s thinking, you thought. On the other hand, you didn’t even have to know what Harry was thinking at all. There was a strange comfort in that.

Suddenly, your mother appeared behind the chaise, watching you stare out of the window. You cleared your throat again to break up the awkward silence, hoping she wouldn’t notice Elle in your line of vision.

“Don’t mean to interrupt dear, did everything go alright with Harry?” She said, messing with the necklace she had chosen to wear today.

“Swimmingly,” You meant for it to come off as sarcasm but she wouldn’t take it as such.

“How lovely! Listen dear, I need you to come help the new caretaker and show her the upstairs rooms. Come on now,” she was already heading into the foyer, not even looking back to see if you followed.

“New caretaker?” You called to her, feeling as if your heart had sunken into the deepest places of you, sorrow was coming.

“Oh yes, I forgot to mention. Elle’s mother is very ill, she’ll be leaving us tonight after supper.”

“Oh,” The only monosyllabic utterance you could manage to force out at this news. As you heard your mother scurry away to another room, you sank down onto the floor. You wanted to crawl into a hole in the ground and never peek out, even for your favorite meal. Elle was leaving and Harry had no intention of ever doing the same, and you had no control over any of it.

(Please leave me some comments/feedback!! I would love to know what you guys think of Victorian era!Harry and yes, there will be more parts and they will be longer including flashbacks!! Hope you guys enjoyed x)

[ethereousdelirious]

Fandom: T/win P/eaks

Characters: H/arry T/ruman, D/ale C/ooper

Pairing: I have no idea what the ship name is but see above

Tropes: yearning

Summary: This is honestly just fluff :/ I wanted a little more hurt than comfort and then just. didn’t.

Warnings/Notes: N/A, i haven’t seen T P in a while so apologies for any inaccuracies! 

Every day since Laura Palmer's death had been a new adventure, and a new exercise in confusion and frustration. Some days, Harry felt like he was treading water and it was all he could do to keep from going under, let alone make progress toward shore.

But, he had to admit, one good thing had come out of this nightmare. Agent Cooper was still something of an enigma, but his sheer optimism made it so much easier for Harry to adjust to the new normal of secrecy and violence that now seemed to permeate every crack and corner of Twin Peaks.

The day started out ordinary enough. Harry knew that Coop would gravitate toward the coffee and donuts in the small break room, so that was where he waited.

The door opened and Coop came sweeping in wearing his usual mien of golden optimism.

"Morning, Coop!" Harry leaned forward and waved.

"Morning, Harry." Coop beamed, but it was short-lived. Shaking his head a little, he stifled a yawn behind his hand.

"You sleep okay?" Harry asked, stepping aside so as not to provide a barrier between Agent Cooper and his caffeine.

"Yes, actually," Coop said, brow wrinkling in confusion. The cloudy yellow light in the station softened the edges on his face, but he still looked worn out and strangely troubled.

"No dreams?"

"Not a one."

"Well," Harry gestured at the countertop, "Coffee."

"No, thanks."

"No?" Immediate concern flared in Harry's chest. "Did something happen?" He doubted it. Coop was many things, but he didn't keep unnecessary secrets.

"No, I just," Cooper frowned. "I don't want it."

Harry closed the small distance between them and gently placed the back of his hand to Dale's forehead. "Do you know you're running a fever?" This was something of a bluff. Dale's skin was warm, but not shockingly so. It was more his demeanor, and the color on his cheeks that had Harry concerned. He was noticeably flushed and slightly more subdued than usual.

"Oh," said Dale thoughtfully.

"C'mon, let me drive you back to the Great Northern. You're taking today off."

"Harry, that's not necessary," Coop protested.

"Oh, I think it is. C'mon, get in the car."

Harry put his hand on Dale's arm and marched him out of the station without so much as a word of explanation to anyone else.

It was odd, he reflected as he got into the driver's seat of Dale's car, how contradictory the man could be. He was a master of lying by omission, of giving away just enough of the truth that no one thought to dig deeper.

But Harry could see it now, the slight slouch to his posture, the way he kept his arms tight to his sides, the careful stiffness of his movements.

"Your stomach hurt?" Harry asked casually when Dale had slid into the passenger's seat.

Dale looked at him, surprised. "Only a little."

"You can't forget to take care of yourself," said Harry, mostly for the sake of filling the silence.

Dale leaned back, tilting his chin up and closing his eyes. He sighed through his nose and just when Harry thought he wasn't going to respond, he said, "I know it." After a pause, he added, "I really didn't feel all that bad, or I wouldn't have come."

"That so?"

Dale grinned, and despite the fever flush on his cheeks, he looked so much like himself that Harry was tempted to turn and around and drive them both straight back to the station. But he didn't. He just looked expectantly at Dale, waiting for an answer.

"Do I come across as a workaholic?" Dale asked, in that peculiar way of his that made it hard to tell if he was being sincere.

"Yes," said Harry. They reached The Great Northern. Dale closed his eyes.

Harry looked at him, first with amusement and then with alarm. He was holding perfectly still except for his breathing, which was shallow.

"You okay?" Harry asked.

"Yep," Dale said, not opening his eyes.

He said it with such confidence that Harry was inclined to believe him despite all the evidence that Dale was very much not alright.

"I'll get the door for you," Harry said. He did so. Dale got out shakily, like the ground was moving under his feet, and Harry didn't miss the way his hand tensed on the body of the car. For a moment, Harry was concerned that he was going to faint, but then the moment passed; Dale straightened and looked expectantly at him.

He was pale and breathing shallowly, but he was upright. They started to walk.

He knew it wasn't subtle, but he stuck close, so close to Dale's side that their hands brushed occasionally. It was eerie seeing Coop like this, walking at a glacial pace, his eyes fixed straight ahead.

All the nervous energy that hummed in him like electricity was just gone like someone had flipped a switch.

They made it up to 315 and hesitated on the threshold, Dale inside and Harry in the hall.

Harry didn't want to leave, and judging from the way Dale was looking at him in silence, he didn't want Harry to leave either.

"Well," Harry said. He stuffed his hands in his pockets. Strangely desperate for some excuse to stay, he said, "Have you eaten anything today?"

"I didn't think it would be a good idea," Dale said. He wasn't smiling.

"You'd better sit down," Harry said, a spike of anxiety rising in his chest. "Or lie down, I don't mind."

Neatly reconciling the two suggestions, Dale sat down on the edge of the bed. Harry came in uninvited.

"Let me at least get you some water."

Dale shook his head, his closing reflexively. "Really, Harry, no."

"You're stubborn, you know that?" Harry sat beside Dale on the bed and touched his forehead with his palm. He was warmer now, obviously feverish. He hadn't taken off his coat.

Harry had aimed a little high and two of his fingers were nestled in Dale's hair. On impulse, he smoothed Dale's hair back. It was gelled and not a bit out of place, but Harry didn't care.

"That feels nice," Dale murmured, perhaps not even realizing he'd said it out loud. "It's hot in here."

"Take your coat off," Harry said, smiling."

"Oh." Dale shrugged it off and looked at Harry almost plaintive. "Do you have any aspirin?"

"What's your grand plan?" Harry asked. "Take two and then sit here and think until you drive yourself crazy?"

"I'm already crazy."

"You're delirious." Harry stood up. "Lie down. I'm going to get you some water."

He ducked into the bathroom to fill up a glass from the tap and came out to find that Dale had neatly arranged his shoes and was in the process of hanging up his coat.

"It's just nonstop with you, isn't it?" Harry asked. "Really get in bed." Resisting the urge to take Coop by the arm and force him, Harry walked past, set the glass down on the nightstand, and pulled back the covers.

"You really shouldn't discount the benefits or organization and routine," Dale said. He shut the closet doors and reluctantly slid under the covers. "What'll you do all day at the station without me, Harry?"

Harry looked at him, long and hard. Finally, he said, "I'm not going anywhere, Coop."

Dale took a long time to process this and finally said, "Then where will you go?"

"We're a team, aren't we? I'm staying right here."

"Harry…"

"I'm going to look after you."

Dale's eyes were suspiciously bright and he was gazing at Harry with such intensity that Harry couldn't meet his gaze. He was quiet for a long time, and Harry wondered if he was going to protest or push him away. In the end, Dale answered quietly, two words almost whispered in the quietude of room 315. "Thank you."

[dye-ann]

for the fandom asks thing, I'm gonna be predictable, do Peaks!

001 | Send me a fandom and I will tell you my

Favorite character:

(suspense)

Yeah, it’s Diane. I can’t really explain why, I was already a Diane girl when we only had her name. The concept of the invisible character fascinated me, and then, and then… Laura Dern happened, is what, I suppose. It seems I already had such a reservoir of love for this character, and when she finally appeared, it just exploded like fireworks.

Least Favorite character: hum. John Justice is the easy way out, though I think I hate Evelyn even more. But are they even characters? Otherwise it’s a tough one because I essentially find everyone interesting, no matter how awful they are as human beings. So I’m going for the drunk in the station’s cell from part 14 and 15, because those scenes were so painful to watch.

5 Favorite ships (canon or non-canon): My opinion has fluctuated a lot about those, and it’s more het than I would like, but I cannot fight it.

Constance/Diane (I mean, imagine that), Cooper/Diane (let’s say in an alternate universe), Gordon/Jeffries, Gordon/Albert (I know), Constance/Albert (tbh Albert and Coop and Albert and Harry is very fine too, I just like the idea of Albert in a relationship even if it’s sort of a challenge).

Character I find most attractive: well, Diane again. But also, strangely, Gordon because I always thought there was something about Lynch. Constance, damned she’s fab. On the dark side, I also have sort of a weird thing for Catherine, don’t judge me.

Character I would marry: Constance, hands down. I would only marry someone who would make a good friend too, and I would totally ride off into the sunset with her.

Character I would be best friends with: see above. I wish I could say Albert, but would he be friend with me? I think I would have better odds with Hawk, although I would try damned hard to win Albert.

a random thought: of all the people I wish we could see in The Return, I think Lil is the one I’m the most frustrated about. But. Is she there, with a different face?

An unpopular opinion: I’m not such a big fan of Chet Desmond. I enjoy the takes I read in fanfictions, but in the movie I found him too close to the hard-boiled archetype, too confident, and I still wish we could have Cooper there, though Chris Isaak’s performance is really good. I also can’t bring myself to really care about the Windom-Caroline-Cooper part of this whole mess.

My Canon OTP: it’s TP, so there’s a shortage of good, healthy relationships around here. EXCEPT we have Lucy and Andy, and it’s going to be them because by Jove they deserve it.

My Non-canon OTP: hmmm, I’m going to say Albert and Constance, whatever the nature of their relationship. Them laughing together made me so goddam happy.

Most Badass Character: Badass is not the right word for it, but Shelly. Everything and anything up to standing on her daughter’s car. Janey-E is more classically « badass », but there are clear downsides to that.

Most Epic Villain: The Hutchens. Really the only villains who deserve to be called “epic”. Alternatively, time.

Pairing I am not a fan of: well, Cooprey, Cooper/Laura. Canon-wise, Josie/Harry.

Character I feel the writers screwed up (in one way or another): we all know about season 2, but I think I’m most angry about Josie (so much potential) and Annie (same, but the Final Dossier makes it a bit better).

Favourite Friendship: Not many good ships but so many good friendships in this show! Every & including Albert is awesome, Donna&Laura is :’(, but I’m going to say Hawk&Margaret because those scenes wrecked me.

Character I most identify with: Harriet, even with one scene or two to dwell on. Her writing that poem serenely while her sister is sneaking out is literally me at age 14. And on my worst days I feel like Ruby.

Character I wish I could be: Dido! I don’t know if it’s hubris or madness. Somewhere in my notes I also found something that said “tag yourself, I’m the tape-recorder”.

[sunflowerstache]

Not So Bad In L.A

A/N: omg wow okay hi guys! So I’ve been planning and working on this for about 2 weeks now and I am finally ready to post it! This is my first ever chapter to my first ever fic! I really hope you guys send me some feedback as I really want to make this a great story for y'all! This first chapter is kind of more of an informational to y/n’s background, but I promise Harry will make his appearance starting next chapter!

A special thank you so much to these beautiful ladies for the constant encouragement and love! @harrygivenchy @customhucci @loveharryx @bridge-to-terabethia @ultravxl @pinkflowerharry @swayingnoodlelove everyone else from Harry’s Bingo Hall, and @emotionally-imbruised I adore you all!

and a special thanks to @theasstour for being my inspiration and the first ever person to read this fic... love you lots! 

Also, if by any chance you want to be tagged in the next parts, have questions or any suggestions about the fic, just let me know, I love hearing from y'all! okay, love you, please enjoy!

Chapter 1:  She’s Got A Family In Carolina

        January 2017

Word Count: 2.1k

Masterlist       Fic Masterlist

Next Chapter

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One may think living in the South means constantly wiping beads of sweat from your forehead and the sun always shining, but here you were, freezing your ass off while the rain pelted you in the face. Checking your watch for the third time, you swiftly ran across the street, making sure to wave a quick “thank you” to the cars who let you pass. It had been raining for the past six days in Charleston, and it was easy to tell everyone was beginning to move from irritated to borderline insane from being cooped up inside all day everyday. You pushed open the door to Gnome Cafe and shook the excess rain from your umbrella before making your way over to a table in the corner of the room.

         “Sorry I’m late. I was finishing an episode of Brooklyn Nine Nine.” you shrugged, shimmying out of your pink rain jacket and placing it on the back of your chair.

           “At least tell me it was a good one.” Bri rolled her eyes

           “The whole series is good, what do you mean ‘a good one’?” Sav argued while taking a bite of her salad.

           “The one when Hitchcock drank his fish.” You smiled, knowing it was one of Bri’s favorites, “Thanks for ordering for me.” You mumbled around your sandwich while the three girls around you agreed that it was a decent enough episode to be late to lunch for.

           “Okay, onto actual important things; LA.” Bella gleamed while clapping her hands together.

The Four Whores. That’s the name Isabella- Bella, had dubbed your group way back in the eighth grade. Bella’s mom and your mom had been best friends growing up and had gotten pregnant at the same time, consequently resulting in Bella being your best friend since the day you were born. The two of you had met Brianna – Bri, and Savannah – Sav, shortly after at the start of the sixth grade. From then on, the four of you had been inseparable. Constant sleepovers, sharing clothes, going to prom together, and even winning “Best best friends” in your last year of high school. And finally, after 22 years of living in South Carolina, the four of you had finally signed a lease for an apartment in Los Angeles, California.

           “Yes, okay, so…” putting your food back down on the plate, you leaned over to pull manila envelopes out of your black bag and handed them to the girls, “The leasing office sent over all the last minute extra information about the place and we are officially all set to move next week on January 7th.”

A gaggle of cheers was heard around the table and echoed through the small café, causing other patrons to glare in your direction. The four of you had been waiting for this day for what seemed like forever. Sav and Bri were the first ones to suggest the move about two years ago, as they were both fashion majors and thought L.A would be a great place to start their careers. Bella was fortunate enough to come from a family who had money – cumulatively the family had six Law Firms – so moving around for her wasn’t an issue. Making the move out to L.A was a bit for different story for you. Of course, you wanted nothing more than to pack up and start your life with your best friends, but leaving your family was hard. It was well known that out of the four of you, you were the closest to your family, especially your younger sister, Morgan. She was only 2 years younger than you, having just turned 20, and the two of you were incredibly close. She was the person you told everything to, the person you cuddled with on the couch when watching HGTV, she was just your person. So finally making the decision to move across the country was a hard thing to decide. Slightly shaking your head, you rejoined the girls and discussed plans to ship all your belongings out to California and then the conversations merged into any trips you all had coming up after the move.

           “Speaking of upcoming trips, will you please call Nicholas. He texted me 9 times yesterday asking about his stay.”  Sav laughed, signaling to the waitress for our check.

           “That little shit. He literally just booked the flight on Thursday. There’s like a month before he even gets in.” You laughed, shaking your head

Nicholas Grimshaw. It was definitely the oddest friendship you had made throughout your years in college. You were 19 and had somehow ended up at a party in London 3 years ago that he was attending and the Four Whores – more specifically Bella -- had quickly weaseled your way into the VIP section and made friends with the Brit and his gang. And ever since, even though you only got to see him every so often when he was stateside, or you got to London, you both were extremely close. He had called you up one night, unwilling to tell you the reason for his trip into California, but requesting to spend a couple days with you and the girls since “You won’t even know anyone there at that point. You need me to help you socialize.” So, you spoke to the girls and they all agreed it was time to have a visit from good old St. Nick.

           “Well, call him, he’s getting on my last nerve.”

           “Don’t even get me started on last nerves, mom’s been on my case about this move, so I gotta get home and make sure she isn’t having an aneurism.” Sav’s mom had always been a bit weary of the four of us together and most of the decisions we make, so it was no surprise she was voicing her concerns.

           “Yeah, it’s been a pleasure ladies, but I’ve got to get back to work.”

           “Y/N sitting on the couch doesn’t count as going to work you know.” Bri laughed as you all popped your umbrellas and left the small café.

           “Ha-Ha very funny. For your information, I have a phone interview later and have to get my portfolio together to send them.” Sticking your tongue out, and making the girls laugh with excited variations of “Good Luck!” falling from their lips, you all walked your separate ways, back down the wet, cobblestone, streets of downtown Charleston.

                       ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

           “I just can’t believe you’re actually leavin’ me. It’s like you want me to suffer living here alone with mom and dad.” Morgan moaned

           “I do find it quite interesting you didn’t invite Morg to join the lot of you on this new life journey.” A voice piped up

Morgan was laying on her back, with her head hanging off your bed and had been complaining for the past twenty minutes about having to stay home by herself while you moved across the country. Knowing he would always take her side, Morgan facetimed Nick from your laptop and now here you were, packing your room while being harassed by your sister and a friend 4,000 miles away.

           “Okay, I already get enough of that from her Nicholas, I don’t need it from the peanut gallery too. And you do realize you don’t have to stay here, right Morg? You can move on campus literally anytime you want - Do you still have my thigh high boots? The black lace up ones?”

           “Hey, I was pulled away from a perfectly good bottle of wine and my couch for this - not that I mind hun – so don’t yell at me.” He laughed, finishing his glass of red wine

           “Well miss ‘I get paid just to travel’ some of us don’t have- “

           “Ah-Ha! I found them!” you interrupted, pulling your favorite pair of boots from the bottom of your closet

           “Anyways, as I was saying, I’m not payin’ for room and board on top of med school tuition. That shit’s expensive enough as it is.”

           “Just think of all the money you’re gonna make when you’re some big timey doctor with her own practice. You’re gonna blow me, and mom and dad, out of the water, so hush up about how much shit costs. Everyone’s in debt these days, who cares.”

           “Nick would let me move in with him.” She grumbled

           “Woah there love, you know I adore you like my own sister,” The two of them had hit it off from the moment they met, which was the best thing you could have hoped for, “but not enough to take care o’yeh. I wouldn’t know what to do. Like what do you eat?” Nick’s eyes widened at the thought of Morgan moving in with him

           “I’m not a dog Nick. I eat food like every other human.” She laughed, rolling onto her stomach and turning the laptop so she could directly FaceTime with Nick

A few months after your first met in London, Nick had had some time off and decided that he would take a tip into the states before he was needed back at BBC Radio. So, he flew into Charleston after spending some time with friends in Los Angeles and was immediately obsessed with Morgan.  Of course, she knew who he was – thanks to her many years of obsessing over One Direction – and was thrilled to spend time with him. From then on, he looked at her, and treated her, as a younger sister, something you were extremely grateful for, considering how difficult the last two years have been on Morgan.

           “On the topic of royalty,” Nick’s voice pulled you from your thoughts, “Don’t make any plans the 28th.” He grinned wickedly as Morgan turned the laptop back to face you sitting on the floor.

           “Bold of you to assume we don’t already have plans that night.”

           “Oh, I know they all do. You’re the one who doesn’t. Bri and Sav will be off doing some fashion thing, and you know Bella will have found a man by then, so she’ll be gone. Which leaves you all by yourself. So, I’m taking you out.” He had hit the nail on the head for your gang.

Savannah and Bri had always been extremely work driven. They knew what they wanted to do since they were young and have been working towards it ever since. Not to say you and Bella weren’t the same way, but the two of you liked to enjoy the slow process of your careers and where they took you instead. And Bella had always been someone who craved affection, so it was no surprise when she had a new boy toy every couple of weeks. None really lasted too long as “they all try really hard to become a serious relationship and I’m just not into that! I’m just a girl with needs!”. You on the other hand, enjoyed spending time at home. You traveled quite often for work so when you got the chance to stay in home and relax, you did just that. And Nick never lets you live it down.

           “How many times do I have to tell you, I’m not as much of a hermit as you make me out to be. I just like relaxing when I’m not working.”

           “I don’t care. I already made the plans, and we’re meeting up with other friends of mine, so you can’t back out now.” He shrugged

           “Nick,” You whined, “I don’t need you playing friend matchmaker for us okay. We’re big girls, we can do it on our own.”

           “I’m not doing this for you love. They were already going to be there so we’re just tagging along. “

           “Fine. At least tell me where we’re going?”

           “Not a chance. Los Angeles is the land of the free baby. Anything can happen. And I promise you, you’ll enjoy yourself.”

Nick was many things; a radio host, a loud mouth, a sincere friend, a bit of a light weight, but he was not a liar. And it was clear he wasn’t only talking about the night he had planned for you both. Los Angeles was going to change your life, you just had to buckle in and enjoy the ride.

[josephkitchen0]

How to Pick the Best Chicken Feeders and Waterers

Feeding backyard chickens should hypothetically be a simple thing to do. You know what can chickens eat, but when the chicken feeders and waterers we buy fail to live up to expectations, it complicates things. There are many different styles of chicken feeders and waterers available today; some perform well, some fail quickly, and more still just don’t deliver the value we think they will. Over the years, I’ve used all sorts of off-the-shelf, commercial-grade and even some home brew systems, all with mixed results. Hopefully, my years of expensive trial and error can help you pick the right chicken feeders and waterers for your flock.

Plastics Make It Possible

I’ve noticed a trend in the poultry equipment retail market; it lags the commercial sector by about 10 years. I remember a time when all you could find on the local feed store shelves was metal equipment, with exception to those terrible little screw base water founts. The commercial poultry sector had long since scrapped their metal feeder and water equipment in favor of non-porous, non-rusting, chemical-resistant plastics, but the retail world of poultry supplies took awhile to catch up.

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Plastics have become the new standard for poultry equipment, both in the commercial sector and retail stores, but for different reasons. Professional farmers adopted plastic and stainless steel devices because of their non-porous characteristics, which deny bacteria and viruses a place to hide and entrench themselves. In addition, with the advent of modern disinfectants, the new acidic cleaning agents proved to be far too corrosive for old galvanized sheet metal. Plastic offers a cost-effective material that resists caustic solutions, can be as durable as their sheet metal predecessors, and offers a better longevity since they never rust.

Chicks eating from a 35lb Kuhl feeder

The retail poultry sector finally changed over to plastic construction simply because it’s cheap. It’s far cheaper to produce thousands of injection-molded feeders and much cheaper to ship plastic feeders that weigh a fraction of the old sheet steel designs. Cheaper products offer better profit margins, and cheap prices make consumers buy more, one way or another. The problems we as consumers see more often now is that these cheap fixtures are not as durable because, well, they’re cheap in every sense of the word. From a hygiene point of view, they’re still better than our old rusty feeders, but most plastics used in retail products are of a lesser quality and thickness compared to commercial equipment.

Buying Steel

Retail locations will sell you anything you want, for the most part. Even if your local shop still sells steel feeders for backyard chickens, I don’t suggest them. Retail galvanized steel is not the same as the old commercial grade galvanized steel, and these feeders will rust sooner rather than later. Rusty feeders are impossible to clean, look terrible and make you look like a bad poultry keeper, so don’t bother buying steel.

This goes double for today’s metal double wall water founts. Back in the day, they were your only option for a heated chicken waterer, but now they offer heated plastic water founts. I always suggest buying plastic now, since the new galvanized double wall founts rust quickly and break at the welds, causing a vacuum leak and consequently a big water leak. Nipple drinker systems are far superior to water founts of any design, so if you haven’t done so already, consider building a nipple bucket to make your life easier.

Products You Don’t Need

At the risk of sounding like a ranting snob, I’d like to air my biggest gripe with the retail poultry world. You don’t need half the stuff they’re trying to sell you for your backyard chickens! Chick growing equipment is the biggest offender in my eyes. Most first-time chicken buyers will purchase chicks at a retail location that wants to sell you a whole bunch of chick-specific equipment. Your $12 chick purchase quickly becomes $50 or $60 bucks before you can bat an eye. You need a special chick feeder, a special chick water fount, that handy little thermometer meant especially for raising chicks and oh, don’t forget our super-duper plastic draft guard thing, you definitely need that! Right, I have a bridge to sell you too.

I’ve never found these trough style feeders to be effective or useful.

What makes this feel like such a scam is this; you’ll be back in eight weeks to buy the full size chicken feeders and waterers your backyard chickens actually need, since your chickens now empty that little chick water fount in under two minutes, if they can drink from it at all. All that equipment you bought is now useless to you, and I hope they didn’t already eat you out of house and home, since you’ll be in need of more expendable cash to buy the equipment you really need.

Not all retailers are crooks, instead it’s my experience that they simply don’t know any better. These products are on the shelf, they make sense to them, and everyone else is buying it, so that’s what they need to sell you, right? Not really.

Adapting Full-Size Equipment For Chicks

If you’re brooding birds in a small box, the upright chicken feeders and waterers do make your life easier. But when you’re brooding on the barn floor, your birds can use adult equipment just as easily as chick specific equipment, with some adaptations. Full-size feeders are just as effective at delivering feed to chicks as they are for mature birds, but chicks are vertically challenged, so be sure to place full-size feeders at ground level and ramp up your bedding to meet the lip of the feeder. If you’re still using water founts; stop! I highly recommend building nipple drinkers (it’s cheap, easy, safer and far healthier). If you’re stuck with a water fount for now, filling the trough with marbles will stop chicks from drowning. The quail bases for those small quart water founts are great for preventing chicks from drowning, but marbles in the trough can work just as well.

Chickens can use a nipple system from day 1. No worries about contaminated water or drowning.

Speaking of troughs, those old-school metal or plastic trough feeders with the flip top are another one of those things you think you need, but all they do is serve dirty feed to your backyard chickens. Today’s tube and trough gravity feeders are far superior to the old style chick trough design. I have an old trough feeder hiding in my tool shed somewhere, and when I see it next, I’ll be sure to toss it.

Commercial vs. Retail

Today’s retail-grade plastic chicken feeders and waterers can be serviceable, as long as they are not abused. You will notice that the plastic is thin and it won’t like the sun all that much, but the price is likely right and they’re readily available. Big name brands in the retail world are Miller Manufacturing (AKA: Little Giant) and Harris Farms. When deciding what to feed chickens with, some people may figure these will suffice, but there are better quality feeders available.

Commercial feeders are built to withstand the abuse you can expect to see on a working farm, which can be rough sometimes. Good commercial plastic feeders feature thick, well-designed plastic parts as well as metal reinforcements when needed. Unlike many inexpensive retail feeders, modern commercial feeders usually include spill shields or grates (either as a separate part or integrated into the pan), which helps to stop your birds from pulling feed out of the feeder without eating it. Especially if your feeders are not set at the correct height, or you have different height birds in your flock, a spill shield or grate will help keep the feed in the pan and off the floor of your coop where it will go to waste. When looking for top-shelf commercial equipment, look for names like Kuhl, Brower and Big Dutchman.

Specialty Feeders for Backyard Chickens

My favorite feeder by far is my Kuhl 250 lb. range feeder because it has made feeding my backyard chickens so much easier. Range feeders are built to live outdoors and come in many sizes, rated by the pounds of feed it can hold. If I wanted to fill my feeder, I could put five 50lb bags of feed in the hopper, but I don’t usually need that much. Since it sits outside, it does have special design features, such as a rain fly that keeps the feed dry and clean for my birds. This feeder sits outside of my coop, which helps keep raccoons and other predators out of my barn. The local wildlife prefers to gorge themselves at the buffet of layer feed I have in my range feeder rather than work at breaking into my coop, which means my chickens are less of a target than when I used to feed inside the coop. I have some seriously fat raccoons and opossums these days, but now I also have chickens that are more likely to die of old age than being taken by a predator.

Home Brew Equipment

For those of us who are handy, there are so many ideas and how-to’s out there on the Internet that I couldn’t possibly cover them all here. One word of caution, or perhaps one major design consideration you should take into account is; how are you going to clean this thing? Designs that don’t disassemble for cleaning, or include porous materials like wood, are a real challenge to clean properly. Plan on using plastics, PVC tubes, stainless steel, or at least well painted or sealed wood to deny bacteria or other disease-causing organisms a place to hide and thrive.

I’m quite partial to my commercial equipment for chicken feeders and waterers, which might make me look snobbish, but I’ve thrown so much broken equipment away over the years, I’ve come to appreciate the quality they offer.

Do you have a favorite chicken feeder and waterer for your backyard chickens? Let me know in the comments below!

  How to Pick the Best Chicken Feeders and Waterers was originally posted by All About Chickens

[canvaswolfdoll]

CanvasReads: Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows

PS | CoS | PoA | GoF | OoP | HBP | DH

So we enter the final installment of Harry Potter, which has been spoiled up the wazoo in the years between its release and now because absolutely everyone takes it as a given that everyone’s already read it.

Not that I can place blame solely on society. I did have many, many years to read the book myself, but still, there’s not even spoiler warnings on the stuff. I mean, if you’re talking about a story in a context where clearly people are seeking it out, that’s fine. But when you’re talking about pistachio cake, and suddenly slip in a ‘Bee Tea Dubs, Lupin dies’ followed by an awkward shrug, I think may be you should reconsider?

Basically, there’s a lot of media to process, guys. Maybe be less flippant with spoilers? That’d be nice.[1]

So… Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows. The end of an era and an epic. It was a modest walk to get here, so let’s stop delaying.

In fine tradition, the story begins not with Harry, but someone else.

This time, Voldemort again gets to be on screen. He’s taken over Malfoy Manor, presumably because they finally realized England doesn’t actually have any Denny’s, thus placing a rather heavy hurdle in the way of getting milkshakes, so Lucius needs to make reparations some other ways.

The Malfoys don’t have a house elf anymore, however, so I’m not sure how anyone intends to get milkshakes. It’s a dire time for the Death Eaters, and so they look to taking over Britain’s Wizard World to distract themselves.

Exposition includes that they’ve successfully infiltrated many parts of the Ministry, Voldemort’s subtle Terror tactics include kidnapping and torturing people (including Ollivander and Hogwarts’ hereto unseen Muggle Studies teacher, who is tortured and murdered), and that Lupin and Tonks have gotten married.

Also, Tonks is related to Bella LeStrange and… Mrs. Malfoy, whose name escapes me.

I mean, it’s used to make fun of the family, humiliating them further as their relatives continue to taint their blood with undesirables, but it’s an odd place for the exposition. Also, there’s some theorising that Draco may be a werewolf now? I hope so. Then Draco Malfoy may actually be redeemable.

The Dark Lord then orders Lucius to lend his wand to Voldemort, for… some currently unknown purpose.

Voldemort acts with a surprising amount of vicious humor. As opposed to the cold, calculating villains often act. Voldemort hangs out with his minions, tells jokes, tortures enemies, and seems very affable to those he comes in contact with.[2]

I’ve been wondering about Voldemort’s whole ‘Blood Purity’ crusade. Is it a belief the man actually carries, that keeping magic in the family is the only way? He’s half-blooded, and he’s met his wizard family, saw what heavy inbreeding did to them. Is it just a ploy to grow an army of blood-purist followers? Because Tom goes to great pains to hide his true ancestry.

Also, why is Greyback working for him? Werewolves are utterly despised by the Death Eaters, what does Greyback expect to get out of this arrangement?

I just don’t fully understand the motivations of the villains. Well, Voldemort and Greyback at least. The Death Eater rabble are just racist.

Anyways, enough hanging out with hilariously hammy villains.

Harry is being all mopey on Number 4 Privet Drive. Poor Harry. His ill-advised mentor was murdered, Voldemort’s poised to take control, and the vaguely defined magic protection Harry receives by living with his blood relatives is going to run out.

So Harry’s finally saying goodbye to the Dursley’s, artifacts that managed to cling on since Philosopher's Stone, after which Harry really should’ve been adopted by the Weasley’s, who had shipped out the two oldest siblings and clearly had room in their heart and home and would have allowed Harry to learn the ins and outs of the wizarding world. They’re more family than the Dursley’s ever were.

I mean, sure, if it’s specifically the blood coursing through their veins that’s required, then I guess that’s the limit that sets. It sounds mighty like Dark Magic to me, but who am I to judge?[3]

Of course, knowing it’s his final appearance, Vernon forces some last-minute bluster as he waffles on whether to trust Harry about the danger the family’s under. He apparently thinks it’s an elaborate ruse to claim ownership of the house. Personally, I think Harry should’ve taken a stance of ‘I told you the deal, how you react is on your head. I leave when I leave, I don’t care what becomes of you.’

Eventually, Vernon is persuaded, and they agree to go live with a Wizard couple for a bit. Dudley attempts a last minute change of heart, but no one cares so he awkwardly shuffles out. Petuna considers some final sympathetic words, but she, too, fails, and leaves awkwardly.

So good riddance to that useless subplot.

Honestly, it all might’ve been worth it if they’d had Harry stay with the Dursleys.

Now now, hear me out. Yes, they're a bunch of abusive jerks who never actually cared for Harry, who he resented returning to at the end of every school year. They hate magic, they hate the magical world, they hate Harry.

And literally everyone knows this. Harry has never had a nice thing to say about them. Of course he’d abandon them at the first opportunity.

Which, logically, makes them the last place Voldemort would think to look for Harry.

Harry Potter? The Boy Who Lived? Sworn enemy of the Dark Lord? Deigns himself to living with muggles, and the most mundane muggles imaginable at that?

Voldemort, in his raw ego, would dismiss the thought in a moment.

Which means we could’ve dedicated a portion of this book fleshing out the Dursley’s. Exploring their motives, their character, give them an opening for gaining humanity. Dudley truly repenting and acting as muscle in the crusade against the horcruxes.

And Vernon. Horrible, blithering Vernon, a being so distasteful, Rowling cannot imagine any magic surviving contact with his genes, uses that to his advantage.

Because Vernon has never been hit by magic. Magically produced property damage, harassment of his son, inflation of his sister, sure, but Vernon himself? Never touched.

So, what if it turns out Vernon is actually so utterly mundane, such a deep-rooted muggle, that magic doesn’t work on him?

Suddenly, the man has a use.

The Dursley’s could’ve been used as one of the greatest plot twists of all time, and we could’ve explored so much.

Instead, the main three sit in a tent for a long swath.

But we’ll get to that.

So Harry packs up his things, has a sad moment with a news article in The Prophet that says Rita Skeeter is writing a biography on Dumbledore, because you have to strike while the iron’s hot.

Harry also shows off his old cupboard to Hedwig, but finds the place kinda dull, and gives up showing Hedwig the place before his exit entourage arrives.

Also, is it just me, or does Hedwig spend most of the books angry at Harry for keeping her cooped up? I only mention it because Hedwig dies.

Sad.

Anyways, Moody and others show up and explain the plan: six of them will be disguised as Harry, escorted by one member of the Order of the Phoenix. Hopefully this will confuse any death eaters who may show up, and they’ll just shrug in confusion as they all fly out.

I mean, sure, flying is a fun and groovy method since they can’t use the floo network or apparate.

But why not a car? The Dursley’s managed to leave a couple hours earlier without being harassed. Just… stick Harry in the trunk with a book of sudokus and drive away in broad daylight, when the Death Eaters can’t strike without making a big scene. Heck, you can still do the Seven Potters Plan, sans Harry, if you really want to confuse Death Eaters.

So many problems are solved by literally anyone going ‘well, what if we try a Muggle method?’

Every witch and wizard is so hopped up on grandeur and spectacle they don’t consider Headology.

Polyjuice potions are drunk, brooms and thestrals and a motorcycle are mounted, we learn that Hermione isn’t good with brooms, a detail that’s obvious in retrospect as we never actually get to see her on one, and neat to have spelled out here.

Also, Harry’s flying away with Sirius Black’s motorcycle. Probably the noisiest option, driven by the largest member of the order, the one unique option, and bookends with Harry’s arrival to Privet Drive.

So Moody might as well have used a permanent sticking spell to put a neon sign saying ‘this is him, boys!’ on Harry’s back.

I’m going to say it. Barty Crouch Jr. is a better Mad-eye Moody than the real one. Dude knew how to use bombastic aplomb to hide subtle plots. Real Moody is just loud.

But real Moody dies for his troubles, so I guess that’s karma for you.[4]

George Weasley also loses an ear, a detail everyone seems to forget.

And aside from Harry’s short spar with Voldemort flying by sheer force of will, everyone else ends up fine.

We also meet Tonk’s parents for a scene. Then they’re gone.

Then everyone portkeys to the burrow.

Which is the most obvious place for Harry to be if not Privet Drive or Hogwarts. I don’t think they ever explicitly stated there’s a fidelius charm on it.

Wait, it absolutely cannot have one. There’s a wedding, the Minister for Magic strolls in…

Voldemort… buddy… Harry has two friends. Hermione’s family is AWOL in Australia, which leaves the Weasleys. Just go burn the place down. It’s not hard.

And Hermione. You got rid of your parents. You now have a house. To yourself. If you can’t cast the required charms yourself, grab an order member, make Harry or yourself the confidant, spread the neighborhood it's in but not the specific address amongst the order, and suddenly there’s a location no one else would think to check! And, if you or Harry were to die, the Order can check by seeing if they can find your home.

There are so many solutions. For both sides. C’mon, just a lick of common sense.

Screw it, both sides deserve to lose.

So Harry’s at the Weasley's, where preparations for Fleur and Bill’s wedding is underway, which Molly uses as an excuse to use interrogation tactics to try and get one of the three heroes to slip and tell her what the plan is, exactly.

They stay resolute, and no one finds out about the Horcruxes and the related quest.

She does drag out of them that they aren’t returning to Hogwarts, which doesn’t make her happy, but she seems to understand anyways. Whatever’s required to take down Voldemort, it won’t be found at Hogwarts.[5]

Again, this is another opportunity where blindly trusting Dumbledore is dumb. Maybe keep the the information very limited, but the Order is still filled with competent and knowledgeable people. I say let the Weasley Parents know (Arthur to keep an ear out for Horcrux leads at the Ministry, Molly to calm her down), Lupin for certain, and maybe one or two others. Possibly some of Dumbledore’s Army, just on the off chance there’s something to be found on Hogwarts grounds.

Basically, I’m taking a hardline here and insisting we discard as much of Dumbledore’s intentions as possible. Man was paranoid and untrusting. Harry needs to rise above that.

Harry has his 17th birthday party, at which time the Minister for Magic strolls in and is all ‘Okay, time for me to act upon Dumbledore’s will, which is so stuffed full of intentionally vague and confusing items that everyone knows something is up, we just don’t know what.’

Again, easy work around if Dumbledore would have had a good think.

Item one: write an autobiography. Set the record straight on so many things. All the things. Stop playing fun secret times, and just write it out.

Item two: hire a Muggle Attorney (barrister?), probably under an assumed name. Leave the will with said Muggle. Instruct said attorney to act upon the will if some failsafe doesn’t trigger.

Item three: Leave Harry and/or Hermione the manuscript. Instruct them to read it, and publish it upon Voldemort’s downfall. This will provide much desired context, get vital ‘Go to Godric’s Hollow’ information out before Ms. Bagshot is indisposed, and maybe include a letter detailing all the dumb conspiracies Albus had running upon his death.

Sigh. I keep getting sidetracked on these plans.

So Harry gets a snitch, which will only offer a vague riddle.[6] Hermione gets a collection of Children’s tales, but written in ancient runes. Ron gets the Deluminator, which has an immediate obvious use, and the true ability of which activates by itself.

Which, sure, implies Dumbledore believed Ron wasn’t the smartest of the trio,[7] but also means he could figure his out.

Stop trying to wow us with how clever you are, Dumbledore, you’ve already gotten yourself killed and I hate you.

The wedding happens, Victor Krum freaks out that Luna’s Dad is wearing the appropriated symbol of the second or first evilest dark wizard.[8]

Then the ministry falls and everyone’s forced to bug out. Oops.

One apparation/disapparation later, Harry and friends are somewhere in London, ducking into a random coffee shop to plan. Then they fight some death eaters and go to Grimmauld Place once they remember throwing a locket away there, just hoping no Death Eaters would show up.

Turns out, despite fears, Death Eaters still can’t see the place. So Harry, Ron, and Hermione live there for a bit. Which means a couple chapters in a single location as our main three spend their time thinking and planning and hoping, and not a lot of on screen time acting. It’s rather dull.

Harry shows Kreacher a level of kindness, and the previously grumpy and hate filled elf immediately turns around into an affable servant. I actually really liked Kreacher once he became a helpful team member, his violent tendencies taking on a more slapstick tone. Much better than the unamusing character he was before.

There may be a lesson on being kind to your lessers?

Anyways, turns out the Locket ended up in Umbridge’s hands. Which isn’t a great place for it.

Luckily, the stake-out of the ministry happens offscreen so we can jump straight into action!

Really disappointed that, in these dark and paranoid times, the Weasleys didn’t set up a shibboleth. A lot of heartache could’ve been saved if Ron could’ve just muttered Nosebleed Nougat to Arthur as a way to indicate ‘Hey, it’s your son, we’re up to something, help?”

Arthur could’ve then at least helped clean up that office.

Of course, Harry just had to accidentally get the form of a Death Eater. That’s just how narrative convenience works!

Umbridge is doing awfully well for herself despite not being an official Death Eater. Having a Horcrux was just happenstance, of course, but she’s been placed on the Muggle Registration Committee and given Mad-Eye’s… Mad eye to watch her subordinates with.

That seems like a trophy a Death Eater would want to keep, but what do I know?

The chapter within the Ministry is a good way to show just how corrupt the government has become in a relatively short time, including deranged Kanagroo Courts watched over by Dementors.

It’s also very interesting to see Umbridge, antagonist and unrepentant bigot, capable of summoning a Patronus. As far as the wiki (and thus, JK ROwling’s supplementary material) is concerned, evil people aren’t typically able to do that. Including Voldemort.

Which seems… incorrect to me? Patronuses aren’t morally tied, but instead relevant to level of happiness. If, despite all this success, Voldemort can’t spare even a single happy memory…

Well, I guess we haven’t really been shown Voldemort has any truly happy moments. Keeps his Death Eaters in line through control, no friends, acting in a desperate fear of death and losing the immense power that made him unique and special, losing to a literal baby during his first reign of terror.

Tom Riddle is a sad, old man, isn’t he? Poor guy.

But the Malfoys should probably have Patronuses! Come on, dismissal because “Evil” is petty and dull, Rowling!

In a sudden need to make recompense for stealing identities and risking the lives and family of two people[9] previously uninvolved in the conflict between Harry and Voldemort, Harry and Hermione cause quick havoc in the Wizengamot chamber, send those waiting for judgement fleeing, and having a large spectacle as muggleborns desperately try and flee through the Floo Network.

We don’t know for sure, but it’s strongly implied that, as our three heroes make their own escape, not everyone makes it out. And it probably isn’t a good end for them.

I’d start an implied death counter, but I don’t actually have a way to calculate it.

In the course of escaping, they accidentally bring enemies to their gates… er, Grimmauld Place. So their base is compromised.

Time to go camping haphazardly.

And… look, we had to drop Hogwarts for plot reasons. That’s fine, I get it. And I realize staying away from civilization is a logical choice, which what I’m usually making fun of, but this is a story in an exciting and interesting world. And we spend about a third of the final book in a tent, as our three leads sit around thinking of where to go, but too afraid of Voldemort to actually try searching.

It would’ve been nice to take this opportunity to explore. Show off the different wizard communities and how they hide. Handwave it by having our trio move randomly between safe houses. What home does werewolf Lupin maintain, as compared to respectable ministry member Shacklebolt? Urban centered wizards compared to the Rural Burrow?

Plus, we could then watch as Britain begins to shift under Voldemort’s puppet strings.

Instead, we’re in a tent. Everyone getting increasingly annoyed at realizing that, surprise surprise, Dumbledore’s paranoia and inability to delegate information and tasks to anyone ever has left them directionless and frightened.

Dumbledore is a horrible mentor figure.

Also, Harry spends time vaguely pining for Ginny Weasley, who is… still not a fleshed out character. She’s a sexy lamp. I don’t care that Harry’s feeling Lovelorn, because his romantic life has never been a strong narrative path, and it’s just being used to up the tension and make our heroes more snippy.

So, hey, interpersonal drama for the sake of conflict. Such fun. Such joy.

Eventually, Ron’s had enough, and leaves. Good on you, buddy! Nice way to bring in some exposition later, but I still would prefer to see the darkness now festering than just hearing about it!

While Ron’s correct in his assessment that they’re not able to progress, his departure is rather jerky, though I guess it’s not a Harry Potter book until Ron or Hermione get mad at Harry and stop talking to him.

Anyways, more moping until Christmas, which means they’ve spent at least four months (a third of a year) in hiding either at Grimmauld Place or in the tent. Which just strikes me as a lot of wasted time.

Come Christmas, Hermione finally relents and agrees to let Harry visit his Parents grave in Godric’s Hollow. So they plan disguises, apparate over, marvel at a magic memorial for James and Lily Potter, wander around a cemetery looking for the actual graves, visit the old house (still partially exploded) before being lured away by Bathilda Bagshot.

Bathilda, as it turns out, is Nagini in disguise. Which means that snake is insanely loyal and patient, considering the vast amount of time she spent waiting.

Nagini summons Voldemort, Harry and Hermione fumble about dealing with the snake before Voldemort shows up, apparently deciding to take the stairs, and our heroes jump out a window before realizing, oh yeah, they can Apparate!

Voldemort has a temper tantrum over barely missing his chance to kill Harry Potter once again. The psychic connection between Potter and Voldemort’s been real handy helping us get exposition from the villains side, especially since Voldemort spends more time very upset than calmly drinking milkshakes.

Back at the tent, Harry and Hermione are once again without means to find more Horcruxes or destroy the one they have. Also, Harry’s wand is broken, because everything the boy loves must die.

Apparently growing tired of nothing happening, a Doe Patronus pops up and leads Harry to a frozen lake, with the almighty Sword of Gryffindor at the bottom.

Harry strips down to just his underwear and locket horcrux, which Harry and Hermione insist on still wearing because… uh…

Why are they wearing the Horcrux? They just sort of start doing it without much reasonable explanation. Just leave it on the tent’s table, or toss it into Hermione’s Handbag of Holding.

Anyways, proximity to the sword causes the Locket to freak out and try and murder Harry.

But Ron shows up and saves the idiot from strangulation and/or drowning, and Ron stabs the Horcrux to death.

Then they walk back to the tent, Hermione’s still mad at Ron because of course she is, and Ron gives a brief overview of all the bad stuff happening in civilization.

So they sit around doing some more thinking as Hermione reads Rita Skeeter's book about Dumbledore, where, surprise surprise, Dumbledore had a sketchy past with the last Big Bad Dark Wizard!

Finally having enough of sitting around, the trio decide to find out the meaning of the triangular eye.

Time to bother Xenophilius Lovegood! Maybe we’ll get to have a couple fun scenes with Luna.

What’s that? She’s been taken captive by the Death Eaters? Boo!

Approaching the house, we take time to showcase that Hermione doesn’t know what a Chess Rook is, thinking Ron’s referring to a bird when describing the Lovegood home.

I mean… really? Hermione doesn’t know what chess pieces are? Genius girl Hermione’s first assumption is a bird? The bird’s the more obscure of the two options!

How does Hermione not know what a Chess Rook is? That’s so stupid.

Xenophilius turns out to be as spacey as his daughter, with a terrible ability at identify dangerous artifacts. We also get to see Luna’s bedroom, with a photograph of her mother, and a painting of Hermione, Ron, Harry, Neville, and Ginny on her ceiling labelled ‘friends’.

We don’t get nearly enough material with Luna, but it’s small character moments than make her so endearing. Because, beside Ginny, Luna met her friends a scarce two years ago, as part of Dumbledore’s Army. How lonely must she had felt until she finally found a place at Hogwarts.

It also turns out that Luna’s being held captive by the Death Eaters to get The Quibbler to stop speaking out against them and their regime.

However, between the two reveals, Xenophilius takes the time to tell Harry and Hermione a wizard fairy tale, something neither of them would’ve grown up with. Ron does a little light commentary before being quieted by Hermione.

The Tale of the Three Brothers is a well executed fairy tale, a good mix of moral ambiguity and vague mysticism, even in a world with explicit mysticism.

Plus, I’m always a sucker for any story with Death as a character.

So Xenophilius apparently believes in the existence of the three artifacts: a powerful wand, a stone to bring back the dead, and a perfect invisibility cloak.

Huh. One of those sounds familiar.

Xenoparadox steps out to make tea and wait for the Death Eaters he’s summoned. They arrive and share all of the poor father’s attempts to get his precious daughter back.

Our heroes escape, expressing little sympathy for Xenophobe. While I was completely sold on them going with the arriving Death Eaters and skipping chapter 22, the discussion of the Hallows and Dumbledore’s role probably could’ve happened a little later, and the Potterwatch program after Ron’s return and before Xenonolith.

The only commentary for Potterwatch I have is confusion over why Lee Jordon’s insistence on giving everyone codenames starting with “R”, and how obvious almost all of them are to anyone with a little knowledge. I mean, c’mon, Lupin, you went with the only name in the world that pairs with your actual given name? Being Wolfy McWolfface wasn’t enough, you had to make your second nickname Romulus? C’mon Moony.

Also, Weasels aren’t rodents, Jordon. Get it right.

So Greyback stumbles in, grabs our heroes, ties them up with Dean Thomas and Griphook the goblin, and takes them to Malfoy Manor for identification.

There, an amount of Death Eater Lieutenant shenanigans occur as they try and get Draco to identify Harry, but the Malfoy Boy clearly still has shaky loyalties which will remain for the foreseeable future. Bellatrix is upset that Gryffindor’s Sword is not in her Gringotts vault like it should be, and sends everyone except Hermione into the cellar so she may torture and interrogate the muggleborn.

Down in the cellars, we find Luna! Yay! Also Ollivander. Okay.

Quick thinking using a shard of the Mirror Sirius gave Harry a few Christmases ago, they somehow summon Dobby to come and rescue them. First by taking Luna and Ollivander to safety while Ron and Harry lure Peter Pettigrew into unlocking the door.

After getting Pettigrew to show a smidgen of mercy, Wormtail’s silver hand strangles him to death. Poor rat man. Significant for two books, then turned into Voldemort Minion number 5.[10]

Guy barely has a line of dialogue, and I still want more of his story. But, no, like all but two deaths, his is treated without any gravitas.

With their warden conveniently killed, Harry and Ron race out, fight the still living death eaters, steal Draco and Bellatrix’s wands, then exit when Dobby comes to save them.

Unfortunately, Dobby dies as they apparate out, due to thrown knife. Such a tragedy.

I’d never been a fan of Dobby, at any point. He was a negative force in Chamber of Secrets and was just not endearing in his other appearances. I don’t have any deep analysis or reasoning, the house elf just never drew me in.

So, his death, while sad, wasn’t personally moving.

The care Harry, then Ron and Dean put into digging Dobby’s grave, however, was.

Which means it’s time to hide at Shell Cottage for two chapters! Also get some goblin and wandlore. And Voldemort gets the Elder Wand, which is… better than other wands, I guess?

Look, the idea of winning wand loyalties is nice and all, but it seems wildly inconsistent with how wands have previously been handled, such as the Weasley’s passing wands about like hand me downs or house elves grabbing wands for their masters, and otherwise being loaned about. There’s too much vagueness with wand effectiveness for me to commit to any related lore. Much like unicorn blood.

Apparently getting tired of spending all book hiding, our heroes decide to rob a bank!

It goes… well enough.

Looking back, Deathly Hallows feels more like a case of getting in ideas Rowling didn’t find room for in other places than actually paying off world building.

So our heroes get into the LeStrange vault, grab Hufflepuff’s cup, free a dragon, and escape. However, Griphook kept Gryffindor's Sword so… oops?

Luckily, this time no one can stupidly wear the Horcrux, so that’s not something to worry about.

A flash over to Voldemort reveals that he now knows Harry’s figured out about the Horcruxes, and has been destroying them.

Further, the final one is in Hogwarts, like Harry’s been saying all along, but Hermione’s been against pursuing for too long.

Hermione seems rather ineffective this book, I must admit, acting more as anchor to progress than problem solver.

So, let’s hop on over to Hogsmeade, where Death Eaters are alerted to the arrival of our heroes, but they are then saved by Aberforth Dumbledore.

Aberforth, in the course of one significant scene, and only one scene of significance, becomes my favorite character, if only because he’s the one man seemingly able to view Albus with a clear head. Sure, this is because he’s the last person alive to witness the true nature of things between Albus and Grindelwald, but he’s still the only character not to view Albus with reverence, and distrusts the Professor’s methods, urging Harry to flee and find safety, since he’s a young lad, the mission thrust upon him by the more fanciful minded Albus was idiotic, and secrets are dumb.

“Secrets and lies, that’s how we grew up, and Albus… he was a natural.”

Aberforth, though not explicitly stated, seems to share my philosophy.

He even urges Harry to give the Horcrux mission to anyone else, and Harry’s all ‘But Dumbledore said…’

And, you know what? Aberforth’s correct. In the course of things, Harry personally destroys a grand total of one (1) Horcrux.

The diary. Way back in Chamber of Secrets.

The rest were destroyed by Dumbledore, Ron, maybe Hermione (maybe Ron again), Vincent Crabbe of all people, Voldemort himself, and finally Neville.

Crabbe’s inclusion showcases how literally anyone could’ve finished the job.

Aberforth then lays bare Albus’s dark past, as one last Screw You to stupid secrets.

However, the trio are still steadfast in their resolve, so Aberforth allows them to use his secret tunnel to the room of requirement, as escorted by a beat up Neville.

While sneaking into Hogwarts, Neville gives a rough overview of how everything at Hogwarts sucks under the three headed tyranny of Snape and the Carrow siblings, the new Muggle Studies and Dark Arts Teachers.

There’s insufficient data on the quality of Amycus Carrow as an educator. However, considering he managed to reach Crabbe and Goyle, I must infer some level of competency if not moral fortitude.

So let’s just say Carrow is solidly in the middle.

At this point, Harry isn’t sure what the last Horcrux is, but it’s probably related to Ravenclaw. Cho offers to take him to the common room, but Ginny, jealous, steps in and insists Luna escort Harry instead.

Luna takes the situation casually, which is probably precisely what Harry needed at the moment, as the rest of Dumbledore’s Army is calling for revolution, and Harry needs to finish off the phylacteries and chill out before the final push.

Luna happily showing off Ravenclaw tower is good, even if it’s not particularly well protected, since the knocker doesn’t seem to be looking for a solution to its riddle as much as an honest effort at an answer.[11]

Considering McGonagall and Alecto Carrow got in without much stress, maybe the Ravenclaws should reconsider their security.

Quick scuffle, tie up the Carrows, leave with McGonagall while making vague explanations to Harry’s quest, then Snape shows up, McGonagall fights him for a bit before the man flees.

Honestly, with all the sitting about in tents and remaining in hiding, maybe it would’ve been a good time to split focus from Harry.

Like, what if we alternated the middle chapters between Harry and friends, and the viewpoint of either Ginny (building her character and making her more interesting) or Neville (showing his growth as the new leader of the DA). This would’ve allowed us time at Hogwarts to see how it worsened, given scenes to send off the extended cast much better than we get, and hint to Snape’s true loyalties.

What makes Snape’s final redemption fall flat isn’t the motives (which I’ll get into later), but that we don’t see him act like the subtly subversive servant he is. Just one scene where Snape knows the DA’s up to something, and Neville[12] knows Snape has his number, but Snape silently destroys the evidence before the Carrows arrive and passes Neville off on a lesser crime.

Snape’s a jerk, he’s always been a jerk, but Rowling forgot to actually give him a good heart to make him likeable.

Most importantly, the staff all think Snape’s the bad guy.

Which, once again, was bad tactical planning. I mean, come on Dumbledore, just take the head of houses aside, say ‘Hey, so… I might not survive this year. I can’t give further details on that, but know this: Severus is my ally, and is your ally. He’s acting as my spy on Voldemort. Whatever happens next, your first priority is the students, as is Snape’s. Remember that.’

I just… want the Hogwarts Teachers to have more knowledge and narrative weight than the Order of the Phoenix. Is that really so much to ask?

Voldemort uses a magic intercom to ask Hogwarts and Hogsmeade to hand over Harry, or else it’ll be war. They have until midnight.

So the faculty, being responsible human beings, send away everyone not yet of age and also the Slytherins, let more fighters in through the Hogs Head tunnel, and prepare to hold off the Death Eaters while Harry goes on his mysterious mission.

Also, Ron and Hermione disappear to grab some basilisk teeth and destroy the Hufflecup without telling Harry, causing our chosen one an amount of undue stress, since they could’ve just said ‘Hey, we’re going to the Chamber of Secrets, be back soon’. But they do show up again, fangs in hand, have a romantic scene to Harry’s irritation (seriously, there’s a war going on, focus!).

We take time to get the histories of two of the House ghosts because… that’s important, I guess?

Anyways, Harry realizes the Diadem is in the storage area of the Room of Requirement, since Voldemort believes he’s the only person to discover the room.

The only person to discover the room that, when it’s in the ‘Oh no, I gotta hide this’ mode, is the size of a cathedral and tightly packed with contraband.

I get that Voldemort’s prideful and egomaniacal, but surely he’s not that stupid?

It's still a good hiding place, since you still need to find one tiny tiara in a sea of junk.

So Malfoy and his cronies show up to try and capture Harry then accidentally help when Crabbe sets the whole place on magical fire.

Which isn’t great, and Crabbe dies for his trouble, but the other five get out safe.

Then part of the castle explodes and kills Fred. Because we can’t have nice things.

Seriously, Fred’s death is the only one given any weight in the whole book. It’s the only one that causes Harry pause and realize the weight of the conflict.

Thus, only one (well, two, but the last one’s a secret) Horcruxes remains: Voldemort’s pet snake!

Because the war killed Harry’s pet, it’s time to get even.

Voldemort, not being a complete idiot, has been keeping Nagini in a magic bubble near him as he hides in the Shrieking Shack.

I’d mock him for cowardice, but he is the commander of his forces, and shouldn’t put himself in unnecessary risk.

Harry, Ron, and Hermione take the Whomping Willow tunnel to shack, just in time to see Voldemort kill Snape via Nagini.

Because The Elder Wand isn’t attuned to Voldemort, so Voldy wants to defeat the man who defeated Dumbledore.

With his right hand man dying before him, Voldemort just sort of strolls away so Snape can gift Harry some memories.

Which, everything else aside, is the only gift someone’s given Harry expressly in regards to his mother. Everyone else emphasises James Potter, or the two parents as a unit, but until now, no one’s bothered to think ‘Hey, maybe the lad would like to know his mother’s story?’

This also shows us some of young Petunia and a bit of why that woman has such resentment, wanting magic and entry into the world herself.

Which, going back to an earlier idea, would’ve led to a great payoff had the Dursleys stuck around, and Petunia did finally get to see Hogwarts. Vernon blusters about how primitive and drafty it is, and Petunia just gently hushes him as she marvels at the spectacle that’s been denied her so long.

Gosh darnit, there was such unrealized potential with the Dursleys. They could’ve paid off in the best possible way.

But let’s stop focusing on what could’ve been, and instead talk about Snape.

Snape’s backstory is, I believe, suitably tragic. Unhappy home, made friends with a muggleborn witch in his neighborhood, but lacks the emotional tools to handle the conflicts Petunia raises. Then, at school, Snape gets bullied by James and his friends, and slowly Lily, Snape’s crush and oldest friend, begins to side with his bullies. Snape begins to investigate his interest in dark magic,[13] which Lily condemns him for. With Lily forsaking him, he draws closer to the Death Eaters, who celebrate his study of the Dark Arts, and he finds a place and people who accept him.

But he still begs for Voldemort to spare Lily. Because Snape still yearns for the first person ever to accept him and consider him a friend, and he doesn’t truly believe the pureblood rhetoric. When Voldemort does kill Lily, not only is his love dead, but he sees plain that Voldemort and Death Eaters aren’t redeemable, and so Snape begins to work in secret.

A lot of people bemoan Snape as being the ‘Nice Guy’ archetype, but I don’t agree it’s a bad trait in this case. Yes, Snape holds onto not a true love of Lily, but the idea of Lily. But that’s exactly what makes Snape redeemable.

Because who does he think Lily is? Lily is a Muggleborn witch, who was so pure and loving, that she befriended horrible Snape, the greasy haired boy rejected by everyone. A girl that forgave even James Potter, a horrible bully. Snape may have hated James, but Lily could see the good in everyone.

Then Voldemort killed her. Voldemort killed the most saintly person Snape knew.

Voldemort literally killed Goodness incarnate, and thus cast himself as pure evil.

Yes, Snape was horrible to Harry. I won’t excuse that. But as we’re constantly reminded, besides his eyes, Harry is the spitting image of James. Proud, bullying James. Except Harry also vanquished the Dark Lord as a baby. He was the chosen one.

Snape feared Harry becoming like his father, to such an extent he went above and beyond in attempts to humble the boy.

So maybe Snape wasn’t a bleach-clean set of bedsheets. He didn’t really see anyone as human. But he used that to motivate himself, to make the world a better place. And when it became clear the path he was on wasn’t good, he changed course and continued his work.

Still, it would’ve been nice if Rowling had worked in redeemable qualities more often. Made more effort to show Snape’s dueling stances on Potter. Alternating between cursing him for James, and saving him for Lily.

Heck, maybe have Snape figure out Dumbledore’s full plan, and begin machinations to thwart both Voldemort and Dumbledore.

Because wouldn’t it be hilarious if Dumbledore had no intention of letting Harry survive, believing there to be no other way, only for Snape to say ‘Screw that’ and make a way?

Maybe have a scene with Harry and Snape discussing how to handle Voldemort, with Snape being all ‘Your father would kill him. No second thoughts. Lily would pity him.’

Instead, Snape is indignant that Dumbledore intends to sacrifice Harry, but goes along with it anyways.

In the end, I like Snape’s motives, just not his execution.

Then he’s casually discarded by the Narrative.[14]

As one Lewis “Linkara” Lovhaug once said (though I cannot find the exact quote), when you kill a character, it needs to be their best moment. The death needs to mean something, and feel satisfying in some way. However, every death that occurs in Deathly Hallows, besides Harry’s own, is mostly brushed to the side after it happens.

Fred dies, and we get a moment of sadness. Lupin and Tonks die off screen, and they’re pointed at and we’re told ‘that’s sad’ before racing off.

Everyone dies without accomplishing anything meaningful. While that does help the message of ‘Death is often meaningless’ narratively it’s unsatisfying as these characters we’ve grown to know and love perish without much of a second thought.

So, with Snape now dead and his backstory laid out, Voldemort calls a ceasefire and gives Harry an opportunity to surrender.

Which Harry does. Hagrid’s tied to a tree to witness the death, and Harry just let’s Voldemort Avada Kedavra him.

Followed by a visit to purgatory, in the form of King Cross Station, so Harry and Dumbledore can talk out what’s all happening and what shall happen.

Albus is still, in my eye, a villain that just happens to be on the good guy’s side.

Satisfied with Dumbledore’s explanations, however, Harry returns to life, and to one of the most rushed-feeling conclusions I’ve seen in awhile.

So much happens in the final chapter. The entirety of Voldemort’s downfall, in fact, happens in the final chapter.

Narcissa Malfoy is sent to check if Harry is dead, and instead she makes sure her son has a chance of survival. Harry confirms Draco’s alive, so Narcissa’s like ‘A’ight, let’s betray Voldemort now.’ and falsely reports Harry’s death.

Should he have sent Bellatrix to check? Yes he should’ve. But, nah, it’s time to defeat Voldemort.

The entourage marches on Hogwarts, where Voldemort does his big ‘I win’ speech, saying Harry tried to run away, which literally no one who knew Harry would buy, but that gets brushed aside.

Then Voldemort attempts the most reprehensible action: he tries to consolidate all of Hogwarts into a single house (Slytherin).

You monster! Arbitrarily sorting themselves into houses is one the fandoms’ most enduring past times, how dare you try and take that away!

Seriously, it feels like an odd piece of meta villainy shoved in.

Voldemort tries to kill Neville with a flaming sorting hat, but this just gives the boy Gryffindor's Sword, which is then used to kill Nagini.

So time for round two of the Battle of Hogwarts! Everyone into the great hall for death and pain!

Curses are hurled, Molly Weasley kills Bellatrix in defense of Ginny, and Harry finally decides enough is enough and reveals he’s not dead.

So Harry and Voldemort circle one another to do the ‘Well, end of the adventure, time to lay out our opposing morals’ debate.

During which, Harry clearly doesn’t actually want to redeem Voldemort as much as coax the snakeman into attacking first.

People are always like ‘Harry offered Voldemort an out at the end, but Voldemort didn’t take it!’

No, wrong. First off, Harry insisted on referring to Lord Voldemort as Tom Riddle, a name Voldemort discarded and despised. He focuses on how Voldemort failed, how the Elder Wand won’t save him, just attacking Voldemort’s ego and vanity. There’s no careful warning that Voldemort has no Horcruxes left, so if Voldemort does defeat Harry, Voldemort is still vulnerable and surrounded by enemies who’d just killed their last hope.

Because, as Voldemort knows, the Elder Wand’s been passed around for generations, so it’s as undefeatable as it’s wielder. Voldemort can still lose.

“[...]evil likes power, power over people, and they want to see you in fear. They want you to know you're going to die. So they'll talk. They'll gloat.

They'll watch you squirm. They'll put off the moment of murder like another man will put off a good cigar.

So hope like hell your captor is an evil man. A good man will kill you with hardly a word.” (Terry Pratchett, Men at Arms)[15]

And Harry and Voldemort speak in equal measure, neither truly offering the other an out.

So Voldemort throws the killing curse, Harry shoots to disarm, the Elder Wand backfires and kills Voldemort, who lays dead.

Then all of the Wizarding World’s ills are resolved in a paragraph. Death Eaters flee or surrender (Except the Malfoys, who just sit at a table, looking awkward, unsure what to do), Shacklebolt is made Minister of Magic, mind control spells are lifted, literally all non-Potter loose ends are tied up in a single paragraph. Things that should’ve been a chapter in their own right, as we move about ponderously to see the rebuilding efforts, explanation of how the Weasley’s handled Percy’s return and Fred’s death, how the Ministry is forced to reconsider policy and prosecute Umbridge, the rebuilding of Hogwarts and the return of its students, McGonagall taking the Headmistress seat, so many small details, casually shoved aside.

Instead, Harry and his two friends go to the Headmaster's office, Harry tells Dumbledore’s portrait ‘Lost the resurrection stone, going to depower the Elder Wand by leaving it with your body,[16] and I’m keeping the cloak.’

Dumbledore agrees with this decision, and we cut suddenly away as Harry decides to live a normal life.

Which is a trite way to end it. The readers weren’t here solely for Harry’s story, you're not respecting him by quietly leaving him there. Tie up all the loose ends, resolve the other stories happening in the periphery.

Tell us what is done with Voldemort’s body! Is it buried with his mother? Cremated? Casually tossed into the forbidden forest? Taxidermied and stuck into a Hogwarts attic?

Anyways, epilogue. Cut ahead to Harry seeing off Albus Severus Potter. Everyone’s griped about the name, but I don’t care. It’s just a thing. Ron and Hermione are an okay couple, and I do like how Ron’s gained a nice humor streak about Harry’s fame and adult life. Ginny is a nonentity to me, so whatever. The epilogue is sweet, but I’ve little to remark on it.

So that’s the end of the Harry Potter series.

How did it stand up? Well, I loved the books I remembered, but the final three were rather diminishing in quality. It’s all pretty good, but a mixture of my own tastes and the discussion surrounding them may have left me with a little hype poisoning.

Deathly Hallows is my least favorite book. It is what it is.

I’m putting Goblet of Fire as my favorite, because it was a good mix of fun, world building, and well executed darkness.

Lupin, my long time favorite, has been replaced by Aberforth, for the reasons explained above.

Still, I enjoyed myself. It was fun story in an interesting world, and maybe it didn’t quite stick the landing, but very few narratives do.

Thanks for travelling with me on this ride. If you enjoyed yourself, and wish to support me, I have a patreon. I am also always interested in questions and comments. Maybe read my other reviews.

I probably should find something to replace this series with. Eh, we’ll see what happens.

Kataal kataal.

[1] Though, I confess, I did seek out Lupin’s fate. Again, I like werewolves. [2] I mean, my milkshake jokes really aren’t that unbelievable. Voldemort totally would humiliate an underling by making them procure ice cream for the others. [3] The person currently reviewing it, but, eh. [4] I honestly didn’t expect, in the course of these reviews, to go to bat for Barty Crouch Jr. yet here we are. [5] Oh. Wait. [6] If the message only appears when Harry kisses it, you can probably be more explicit than ‘I open at the close’, you Doofus. [7] Despite his long forgotten Chess skills. Maybe Rowling should’ve used this book to pay off on Ron’s implied tactical prowess? [8] Which, like the swastika, once held much more benign meaning by other cultures. Also, good grief, people tattoo the Triangle onto themselves? How’d this end up being the fandom’s sign? [9] Plus one death eater. [10] Snape’s 1, then Bellatrix, three was retired in memoriam for Barty Crouch Jr, Lucius is four. [11] Finally relieving my stress that I’d never get in if I were a Ravenclaw. [12] I’m making Neville the Deuteragonist. [13] Which I’ve never been opposed to. Durmstrum offers classes, and Krum turned out fine. [14] Also by Voldemort, but that’s keeping in character. [15] I really like this quote. [16] You idiot. You’re going to be an Auror! You got the right to the Elder Wand by disarming Malfoy of his wand. One Expelliarmus, and a dark wizard will have the right to the wand!