#let's give harris the chance to be the best president ever

[penig]

Just back from early voting. We went to the nearest polling station, at the nearby community college, where we have been many times before and - we couldn't quite remember - where we have either never seen a line, or only had a line of four or five people once or twice. One of the advantages of early voting is the lack or shortness of lines; another is the ease of parking.

Well, the parking lot was full and the line was a block long. Apparently we were not the only people in town who wanted to be sure they did their bit to save democracy this year and didn't want to take any chances on trees falling on them or whatever.

I was a bit worried about the effect on my foot, but I'd crawl on my hands and knees to vote straight Democrat this year (I mean, it's not so long ago I had to do that just to get downstairs, so...) so we found the end of the line and took up our station.

I was beginning to be a little concerned about the foot about 20 minutes later, when a guy came down the line collecting disabled people. I almost didn't say anything, but - the line hadn't moved at all and I was feeling the foot and I really do have to start thinking of myself in those terms. So I said technically I was and he scooped up both of us and took us to the head of the line, although the people he was chiefly looking for was people from the nearby center for the deaf. The spouse said "This is embarrassing" and I agreed but at least my foot would hurt less tonight.

One reason for the long delays was the voter registration purges and an apparent influx of people not registered in Bexar County. They decided while we waited at the front of the line we heard the decision made to send people with registration issues to a different location - the actual office of registrations? Don't remember. And also not to ask about disabilities anymore because people were going to start saying they were just to get cuts in line if they saw a lot of it.

I kind of miss the old big clunky machines where you could turn a lever to vote straight, but even with the size of the ballot (Five city charter propositions and 29 races) it didn't take long once I got in, and then I collected my sticker (people love stickers!) and was told my dress was cute. Which it is - I was wearing the black and green princess seam thing that kicked my ass so hard.

And now we're home and the spouse is taking his nap and I have to troubleshoot the printer.

It's not much, but it's what I could do.

And now, we wait.

[penig]

Also, you could get Covid, or hit by a bus, or a heart attack tomorrow. Vote NOW.

There is a very good reason to vote early. If you can, please consider doing so

1:30 video explainer here. TL;DW: Once you vote, it's in the system that you voted (not who you voted, just that you voted). That helps voting organizations know to spend resources elsewhere on people who haven't voted yet, are undecided, etc.

If you can vote early, whether by mail or a local place, please consider doing it.

Please vote.

[justahumblememefarmer]

I do like to think that if Trump loses this election, he's really going to drag Republicans further and further down until they either reject him or die.

He won them the presidency in 2016 and firmly tied Republicans to himself. They refused to keep him in check at all, and anybody who stood against him was either ousted or beat into submission to become another sycophant.

Then he did such a terrible job that in 2020 it inspired record turnout to oust him. Republicans still had the chance to oust him with the second impeachment for the insurrection, but they stood by him.

For the 2024 election, they again had a chance to oust him. Running somebody who already lost the presidency, especially against the same person he lost to last time, is probably not the best formula. He had mounting legal troubles they could've used as an excuse to drop him. When it came to the primaries, it was somewhat in question whether he'd get backed again, but more importantly if he lost the primary, would he run as an independent or as the MAGA party and split the right's vote? We didn't ultimately find that out.

What we're seeing now is that dropping Biden from the ticket and having Trump now be the older candidate is definitely hurting them. There's a lot of frustration with the fact that so many of our politicians are extremely old, so putting in Harris who's (relatively) younger has been a great move.

Now let's say Trump loses this election, what happens to him and the Republicans? He's still facing several legal issues, but honestly with this current Supreme Court, I don't have a lot of faith he'll face many consequences there. But I highly doubt that he will want to give up any power that he currenty has over the party, and desperately wants to have the power of the presidency again. So Republicans are going to have to face the same choice they did for this election.

Continue to follow behind him and run him as the oldest ever presidential candidate who has now lost TWO presidential elections

Oust him as the leader and elect somebody else, potentially risking his base coming after them

In option one, the party likely remains united, however if Trump loses this election, I don't think he will ever be able to win any election again. Running him in 2028 would likely be a third loss for him. And if he keeps running every 4 years, that ticket is just going to get worse and worse.

If they reject him and run somebody else, how will he react? He could tell his base to not vote. He could run independent/third party and split the vote. How much of his base would actually go with him might not be certain, but certainly enough that it could still cost them huge in some major elections.

So I think if Trump loses this, Republicans best option is for him to die. He's never going to give up power voluntarily. He's never going to name a true successor. Him dying while they trot him out as their hero is the only way they can be rid of him without causing a huge party schism or running a failing candidate yet again.

[titenoute]

Do you still support Kamala even though she will still support the genocide, and ultimately nothing changes, she has better policies on paper but it’s not enough to convince people, not helping the fact she went centrist at the last minute. I really don’t want trump to win. And third party votes ultimately don’t matter in the election? So WTF?! Do I just give up everything I worked for and just let fascism take over?! What can I do to stop this?!

tl;dr: Trump openly supports Israel. He also attempted to make a peace agreement between Isreal and Palestine during is previous mandate that suspiciously wasn't in favor for Palestine. If he passes, he plans on reconstructing Palestine himself and get rid of 'fanatics'. (Source here, but I'll show the exact part that support these claims below) If you grew up after 911, you know what this means. It means that Palestinians will stop being seen as victims and will be demonized in the future and that their country will stop being their. If that happens, their cry for help will be completely muted. Harris isn't demonizing them. So vote Harris. When you have to pick between laxative and lethal poison, you take the laxative. Your vote counts. Palestinians can't choose the next US leader but you can, lend them your voice.

You're here? Good, this is important. I want you to see what Trump has to say about the ruins of Palestine. This is an excerpt of an interview he had on Hugh Hewitt's Radio show (Full Transcription: Here. Audio: Here.) that demonstrates this, I have highlighted some important points but I advise you to read the whole thing :

"HH: You know how to build things. Gaza is in ruins. Could Gaza be Monaco if it was rebuilt the right way? Could someone make Gaza into something that all the Palestinian people would be proud of, would want to live in, would benefit them?

DT: It could be better than Monaco. It has the best location in the Middle East, the best water, the best everything. It’s got, it is the best, I’ve said it for years. You know, I’ve been there, and it’s rough. It’s a rough place, before the, you know, before all of the attacks and before the back and forth what’s happened over the last couple of years.

HH: Right.

DT: And I said wow, look at this. I mean, they have the back of a plant facing the ocean, you know. They’d have, there was no ocean as far as that was concerned. They never took advantage of it. You know, as a developer, it could be the most beautiful place – the weather, the water, the whole thing, the climate. It could be so beautiful. It could be the best thing in the Middle East, but it could be one of the best places in the world. And you know, there were other civilizations. I don’t know if you know this. It’s crazy, but that’s been a rough neighborhood. That’s been a rough place. You know, underneath that is, are two other civilizations where they’re, you know, they were wiped out and they started over, and they build on top.

HH: Oh, yeah.

DT: It’s amazing. I mean, that’s been a very contentious area for a long time, I can tell you that.

HH: Do you think your partners…can you get the Abraham Accords going again and get your partners, like UAE, Bharain and possibly Saudi to help you, and Egypt, to help you in Gaza if you’re president again to build it the right way and get rid of the fanatics? DT: Yeah, yeah, so I’ll tell you, I think not only the Abraham Accords, you know, the Abraham Accords is one of the great things that’s ever happened in the Middle East. That should be loaded up with everybody right now. And you know, I made the statement the other day, people said oh. I would have gotten, in my opinion, 50/50 chance, maybe more than that, Iran would have been in the Abraham Accords. They wanted to make a deal so bad until we had that phony election. They wanted to make a deal so bad that it was…and Biden missed the opportunity. Now, then he pours money down their throat, gives them billions and billions, hundreds of billions of dollars, takes the sanctions off. They wanted to make a deal so badly. I would have had everybody, and I believe I would have had Iran. You would have had real peace in the Middle East.

HH: Well, that would have stunned me, because I think they’re fanatics, and you can’t deal with them. But let me tell some of my affiliates we’re going to a break here.

DT: You couldn’t tell when they had no money, I’ll tell you.

HH: You’re right.

DT: You could have dealt with them when they had no money.

" So yeah, as someone who has grown up post 911, I have see a few red flags. First being : Trump would be in charges of the reconstruction because he'd rebuild it the "right way". You're telling me Trump, not a Palestinian state, would be in charge of reconstructing ? How is it his right ? That means the Palestinians wouldn't be in charge of their own country. Nor Israel. You should take a look at Trump's peace plan between Israel and Palestine, Palestine didn't get many concession from it. And the second and most terrifying point : The fact they're talking about fanatics. As a general rule, know that the use of that word should scare you. "Get rid of fanatics"?" Dealt with them"? Also, what type of people do they think are fanatics? The Hamas? People who supported the Hamas?...Muslims? How do you make the difference ? How do you know for sure you're dealing with a 'fanatic' ?? Last time I saw this word used, the solution they found to 'get rid of the fanatics' was bombing the whole country. That word is synonymous of a death toll. If you check is Isreal-Palestinian peace plan and Abraham Accords and take into account this interview ? There's some puzzle pieces that should suddenly start to fit right.

Trump doesn't care about Palestinians. He is not out there to try to help them. He will " get rid of fanatics" He only cares about the lands. He only cares about the profit. I'm pretty sure he wants to make the Middle East a giant Monaco really.

So are you CERTAIN he's a better deal than Harris? The difference with Harris, is that the cries for help from the Palestinians will keep on being heard as the voice of innocents. Under Trump ? They won't be victims anymore, but fanatics. They will be demonized and they won't be heard of again. This is the worst outcome. Vote Harris.

I know. I know she's not perfect, but I think I made my point. The situation can get worse very fast with Trump. And honestly, when someone tells me ' If I'm president, I'll stop this conflict' I hear ' If you give me power, I am soooo going to save those innocent lives.' I'm very sorry, but when lives are on the line, it doesn't stuck me as a fair deal. It struck me as blackmailing. Very Terrorist like even. Also, coming from Trump, the guy who made ICE happen, I really don't think he's on the side of people. Period.

[toetips]

I have a friend that I love dearly. She has truly been one of my best friends for many years. We started college together graduated together and overall just grew into adults together. We’ve voted together and took many years understanding how our morals and standards align and where they differentiate.

This current election is very huge. After Roe v. Wade was overturned, I think anyone would be able to tell that election is not one to play around with.

The presidential candidates and Donald Trump and Kamala Harris. Anyone who has any sort of grasp on politics when know that Donald Trump is not a good fit for the position. He has been backed/endorsed by the literally KKK. When he was having his rally’s, he would only go very racist areas and areas where he knew people were pro Trump. Harris had been very vocal about her plans to reinstate Roe v. Wade and have get tax policy idea like increasing taxes for the rich and cutting them for the middle class and lower class.

Under Trump’s admin, it was been very clear that that his main demographics in terms of intended audience is white racist people. His has been convicted of rape and so far officially been convicted of 34 felony charges out of 88. He wants police to have full immunity from the crimes that they commit. And also wants to dismantle the department of education and will not want any funds to go to any schools that teach things that he doesn’t want to be taught like critical race theory. The people from his cabinet have said that he should not be president again and he had fascist views. He also praised dictators and has said that he wants the American people to obey his orders and will put the military against those he do not follow him. This is very clearly not a good man. It is very clear that this election is very important and I very big deal.

My friend Britney said that she was having a hard time choosing who to vote for. Which is obviously very concerning. Kamala Harris is the most qualified candidate. She been in the senate, House of Representatives and currently vice president. She has also been an attorney general. So to me it is not hard to know which is the better option. She has at least two policy that I align with and she is beyond qualified to been the representation of what the U.S. is. The day that Britney voted she didn’t want to tell anyone who she voted for. Obviously that is cause to assume that you voted for Trump if you’re embarrassed or not comfortable to talk about who you voted for. This is what the whole group thought.

Obviously I would not want to be friends with someone who thinks that voting for Trump is okay. Why would I want to be friends with someone who does not value my life and my rights? Why would I want to be friends with someone who thinks this is a game and is actively refusing to understand why this is a big deal.

But I love her. I love Britney and she has almost always been such a great friend to me. But I love myself more to not allow someone to keep their place in my life if they don’t value my rights and doesn’t see how the potential of losing them is a big deal. The idea of having to let her go hurt me a lot. But it is something that must be done. I can sit here and cry all day and night but that doesn’t change anything. I cannot make her understand basic human decency. But I also wanted to give her the chance to explain herself and I also wanted to explain myself and how her lack of understanding hurt me. But she declined the talk and wanted to reschedule but now I feel like I don’t ever want to talk to her again. I’m over it. As of now it’s done; I’m done.

[penig]

Stop talking about how bad the traitor is and start talking about how great Biden and Harris are! That is the way forward here!

What Joe Biden and Kamala Harris did in 2024.

I started this project back in January and for most of a year, every week, I came up with the highlights of what the Biden-Harris Administration did. I did it because it felt to me our media and national conversion was broken, our government was doing huge things that it felt like almost no one knew about. It's amazing how often I struggled to find a single news source that wanted to cover a huge life changing project.

This is the last Friday before Election Day, and if you haven't already voted, take a minute to go back and look at the last 40 weeks, and decide, do you like these things or want literally the reverse on every issue.

Week 1 January 19th

Week 2 January 26th

Week 3 February 2nd

Week 4 February 9th

Week 5 February 16th

Week 6 February 23rd

Week 7 March 1st

Week 8 March 8th

Week 9 March 15th

Week 10 March 22nd

Week 11 March 29th

Week 12 April 5th

Week 13 April 12th

Week 14 April 19th

Week 15 April 26th

Week 16 May 3rd

Week 17 May 10th

Week 18 May 18th

Week 19 May 24th

Week 20 May 31st

Week 21 June 7th

Week 22 June 14th

Week 23 June 21st

Week 24 June 28th

Week 25 July 5th

Week 26 July 12th

Week 27 July 19th

Week 28 July 26th

Week 29 August 2nd

Week 30 August 9th

Week 31 August 16th

Week 32 August 30th

Week 33 September 6th

Week 34 September 13th

Week 35 September 20th

Week 36 September 27th

Week 37 October 4th

Week 38 October 11th

Week 39 October 18th

Week 40 October 25th

Feel free to reblog this or go back and reblog a favorite, one that impacts your life or the one from the week of your birthday, whatever.

and remember to read past the headlines and dig to find out what your government is up to, it might shock you how much is happening that no one talks about.

[bllsbailey]

On 'The View,' Kamala Harris Is a 'Moderate,' She Isn't a 'Leftist' - and the Cow Jumped Over the Moon

Welp, look at that. More presidential campaign idiocy from the delusional geniuses of ABC's "The View."

Along with the lapdog media, the ladies of ABC's laughable cartoon were in euphoric spin-mode on Tuesday as they waxed idiotic (lied themselves silly) about Kamala Harris becoming the presumptive Democrat presidential nominee after mentally-vacant Joe Biden — the dead man walking — finally bowed (was forced) out. 

As has been the case with the left-wing media, "The View" ladies yet again asked "us" (their equally delusional  viewers) to suspend disbelief and buy into the preposterous notion that Harris is a "moderate." 

Sara Haines kicked off the festivities. We're talking pay-per-view-quality comedic entertainment.

One thing I also really love is, right now, the big attack for her, in addition to the dirty things, are ‘She's too liberal. She's too liberal.’ That is a very rich comment on her right now, because what Trump did was name JD Vance and – as you said – he's further right. He is Project 2025. He is the Heritage Foundation. He is the MAGA agenda. He had a chance to do something else and we said here the convention was really just a doubling down on extreme agenda. 

Can't make it up, don't have to. Haines continued:

Vice President Harris is really – and this is my — I don't have input here, but what I'm seeing — only looking at moderate beloved Democrats. And what that says to me is, for the person saying, "You're too extreme," she's the only one that's actually checking in with the American public.  Forty-three percent of this country identifies as independents. They are more moderate than the minority extremes would like you to think. By minority I mean partisan extremes. But the country is in the middle. She's saying, ‘I see you as voters.’ So, it’s not just political strategy. I feel like she's thinking about people like me when she's picking her vice presidential candidate.

Setting aside Haines's complete mischaracterization of JD Vance, for a bit, the co-host's portrayal of far-left-wing Harris was the stuff of fairy tales — delusional fairy tales, that is. 

Fellow genius co-host Sunny Hostin tossed her incisive genius thoughts (serial lying) into the ring. 

Well, to be clear, she's pretty moderate also. She's pretty moderate also ...  but former prosecutors aren’t leftist.

Did I mention that Hostin is aggressively racist and antisemitic? 

Finally, pretend token Republican co-host Alyssa Farrah Griffin put the icing on the absurd cake.

And for what it's worth, I think moderate, probably on the left-wing side. I don't think any Republicans see her as moderate. But I do think it’s a very wise idea to find a moderate vice president to open it to the biggest voting bloc.

"Moderate, probably on the left-wing side." I'm going to stop you right there, Ms. Haines. This is a No Oxymoronic Statements Zone. Please.

Let's Visit the Reality of 'Moderate,' Non-'Leftist' Kamala Harris

Most recently, Vance — Donald Trump's vice presidential running mate — said it best.

There's some bad news ... Vice President Kamala Harris ...  doesn't like me. Kamala Harris said something to the effect that I have no loyalty to this country. Well, I don't know, Kamala; I did serve in the United States Marine Corps and build a business. What the hell have you done other than collect a check? What has she done other than collect a check from her political offices, and we have to give her credit, my friends, she did serve as border czar during the biggest disaster — open border that we've ever had in this country. Let's get President Trump back there, close down that border, and bring some common sense and security to this country.

Every word of it, true — and then some.

WATCH: JD Vance Unleashes on VP Harris, As Trump-Vance Rally Starts in Michigan

Even Californians — Harris's home state — have weighed in on the San Francisco native's political views over the last 24 hours, including former Acting Director of National Intelligence under President Donald Trump, Richard Grenell.

Dear Pennsylvania…take it from this Californian, don’t let Kamala Harris anywhere near your energy sources. She’s a radical environmentalist even for California. Even Obama eventually read the science and agreed to fracking. As Attorney General, Kamala worked overtime to make sure liquid natural gas (LNG) terminals were not built throughout the entire state of California.

I could go on and on — trust me. 

HOT TAKES: California Weighs In on a Potential Kamala Harris Presidency

The absurd notion that Kamala Harris is a "moderate" is the stuff of fools. 

Wait. The imbeciles of "The View." Never mind.

[qqueenofhades]

Okay, y'all. Time to do this one more time. Let the fact that there are so many of these posts right now reinforce the point. Many of you already know this, and I see and love you, but for anyone still ~undecided about their choice, should they be an American citizen of voting age on November 3, 2020:

Time to not be. It was time a long, long while ago, but I am going to have to say it again.

Primary season is over. The endless fine-tooth combing of candidates' policies and positions is over. We are all deeply well aware that the candidates on the Democratic ticket, being human beings and establishment politicians, are flawed. "BUT WHAT ABOUT THIS POSITION FROM 19/ 20-WHENEVER AS JUSTIFICATION FOR WHY IT'S TERRIBLE TO VOTE FOR -- "

No. Stop. Just stop. Stop threatening to hold the rest of us hostage, in the middle of a pandemic, the Great Depression, and racial inequality and protests on a scale not seen from the 1960s, because you did not get Barbie Dream Candidate. That is the behavior of terrorists and toddlers. If your supposedly enlightened morally pure ideology does not involve any action to mitigate the harm that is directly in front of you, it isn't worth a shit as an ideology actually devoted to helping people. If your approach to politics is to shout about how Pure your ideas are on twitter and tear down anyone working within a system of flawed choices to do the good that they can: you're not helping, and frankly, your constant threats to withhold your suffrage as a punishment to us aren't convincing the rest of us that we really need to listen to you or that you have anyone's best interests at heart. The Online Left TM is as much a vacuous, self-reinforcing noise chamber as the Online Right TM, and can sometimes tend to be even more dangerous.

I was saying this in 2016. A lot of us were saying this in 2016. I am just about to turn 32 years old and have been voting in federal elections for almost 15 years. For what it's worth.

This is not an ordinary election. This is not a contest between two flawed candidates who respect the system and want to work to enact their policies in the ordinary way. One is a flawed 90s era Democrat who nonetheless has already been pushed CONSIDERABLY left in his policies and platforms since the end of the primaries (and his existing platform would already make him the most left president elected, even more than Obama). The other is a fascist dictator who has openly spoken about refusing to accept the election results, his desire to abolish term limits and serve for life, and complete the pillaging of any remaining fragile American public funds for him and his cult of cronies. He does not respect the system. He does not want to do anything for anyone that is not himself. 160,000 and counting needless deaths of American citizens have already happened. Will keep happening.

This is the last time Trump has to face voters. This is the last chance the country has to repudiate his entire poisonous ideology and its marching Nazi minions. IF he steps aside, which is already far from guaranteed, he can ride off into the sunset as a vindicated two term president and probably be rehabilitated like George W. Bush was within a few years of leaving office. American political memory is very short. It will happen. Again, if he even leaves.

RBG is 87 and has cancer again. She will NOT survive another four years. Stephen Breyer is 81. Their seats could both come up in the next four years. The Supreme Court could be a right wing rubber stamp for whatever time we all have left before climate change and coronavirus kill us all.

"But if people just thought for themselves and did their homework and didn't vote the party line like sheep, we could support a third party/write in -- " Stop. Just stop. Attend a ninth grade civics class and learn about how politics work in America. Yes, the two-party system sucks. Yes, the Electoral College is a hot steaming pile of absolute bullshit. Magical unicorn fairy dust fantasies WILL NOT change that.

Do not vote for Kanye (who has pretty much openly admitted he is trying to play spoiler to Biden on behalf of his buddy Trump). Do not vote for godforsaken fucking Gary Johnson or Jill Stein who appear on ballots just to give sanctimonious leftists the illusion of virtue-signaling. If you want any chance of fixing the mess that 2020 has left America and the world in, you need to vote for Joe Biden and Kamala Harris. The end.

Biden is a flawed old man who was our last choice, sure. He is also a distinguished public servant who has already been in the White House for eight years under Obama and thus we KNOW what to expect. He is an empathetic man who connects with people's personal tragedy and picked as his running mate a younger Black/biracial woman who directly confronted and called him out on past behavior. While the pundit class was simpering and whining about how it was Disrespectful and how could he consider her, Biden did so, and that speaks well to me of the fact that he is willing to learn, to take criticism, and not just accept it from a former Black female rival, but make her his second in command and the potential first female president of the United States.

Can you EVER picture Trump doing that? Not in eight thousand million years.

As for Kamala, we are all aware of her previous checkered history as a prosecutor (and even then, she did plenty of good things as well!). Since joining the Senate, however, she has consistently become one of its most progressive members. She is the co-sponsor of an economic aid package designed to give every American $2,000/month, backdated to March (the start of the coronavirus pandemic) and continuing at least a few months after its end. A Biden-Harris White House could make that happen. Especially if they are put into office with a Democratic House and Senate (for the love of God, Kentucky, kill Mitch McConnell with fire). That is just one example.

Harris's nomination is obviously historic. And Biden didn't choose another Biden (or another Tim Kaine, the blandest white man imaginable). He chose another Obama: a younger rising star of an immigrant background, a person of color, a former lawyer and someone who represents the diversity of the country that the white supremacists and the Cheeto in Chief have tried to paint as its worst and most degenerate evil.

A vote for Biden and Harris means getting rid not just of Trump, but Mike Pence, Vladimir Putin, Jared Kushner, Betsy Devos, the Trump crony destroying the Postal Service, the rampant coronavirus misinformation and bullshit, the destruction of Social Security and Medicare, the spread of Nazi propaganda from the President's twitter account, the likely two Supreme Court picks that would be as bad as Brett Kavanaugh or worse... on and on. Biden and Harris would be elected by progressive voters and thus answerable to them in 2022 midterms and 2024 general. They can both be, and already have been, pushed further left. They are reasonable and competent adults who have demonstrated experience and compassion. I KNOW about their flaws and past actions I don't agree with. But I'm frankly done with any more counterproductive straw man bitching about This One Bad Thing They Did and how it makes it a terribad awful choice to vote for them. Open your eyes. Look at the alternative. LOOK AT WHAT HAS ALREADY HAPPENED AND THE FACT THAT THIS IS NOT EVEN AS BAD AS IT COULD STILL GET.

Check your registration or register at vote.gov.

DO NOT LOOK AT POLLS AND DECIDE "EH BIDEN IS CLEARLY GOING TO WIN, I DON'T NEED TO VOTE." THAT IS HOW WE LOST LAST TIME.

Unseating incumbents is HARD. It is even harder when the other side has openly laid out their plan to cheat in great detail, and there is nothing really stopping them from doing it. The only thing, in fact, is massive, unfalsifiable results on an undeniable scale.

So:

Vote.

Vote for Joe Biden and Kamala Harris.

Thanks a lot.

[multimetaverse]

HSMTMTS 2x01 Review

New Year’s Eve was a great way to return to HSMTMTS especially after such a long gap. Let’s dig in!

Vladimir Lenin once said that, ‘’ there are decades where nothing happens; and there are weeks where decades happen". It’s been almost a year and half since S1 ended but this past week has seen revelation after revelation as the fandom has resurrected itself and promotion for S2 kicked into high gear: Joshua Bassett came out, Frankie and Joe confirmed that they are a real life couple, Larry seemingly confirmed that S2 will only have 11 eps rather than the 12 initially ordered, and perhaps most importantly Olivia revealed that she and the main cast are under contract for 4 seasons and made clear that she’s leaving the show as soon as her contract is up.

I really enjoyed this premiere, it felt like picking up right back where we left off. I’m guessing that S2 was originally supposed to premiere around Christmas or New Year’s but the holiday decorations and real Utah snow add a charming aesthetic to the ep. Tim Federle deserves credit for giving HSMTMTS more of an ensemble feel which is no easy feat with a cast as large as this show has. It likely won’t last due to covid restrictions  but at least for tonight we got to see all the characters hanging out together acting like a real group of friends.

The dialogue tonight really reminded me of Glee and I think I mean that as a compliment. Miss Jenn in particular seems to be doing her best April Rhodes impression minus the alcoholism. 

The rini scenes tonight were lovely. Perfect gift was a great song and I loved the rini duet during the music in me as the world faded around them leaving just the two of them. The Harry Styles reference is funny in light of Josh’s coming out interview. Of course, it’s hard now to separate Nini and Ricky and Olivia and Josh. Their chemistry shines through as 2x01, 2x02, and possibly parts of 2x03 were filmed pre Jolivia breakup which seems to have happened around summer 2020. Whether they can keep that same chemistry later on in S2, not to mention future seasons, remains to be seen.

A major theme tonight was communication and clearly Rini need to work on theirs. Poor Ricky had to learn that Nini’s moving to Denver the night before she leaves town which has to remind of him of his mom effectively abandoning him. Ricky saying that he’s never gonna breakup with Nini ever again sure sounds like foreshadowing for a disaster though the odds that this time Nini initiates the breakup are pretty good. 

I’m glad that the show is continuing to delve in the Bowen’s divorce story with their house being sold and Ricky and his dad having to move into an apartment. Divorce is expensive and the division of assets typically leave people less well off. Mike Bowen needs to work on his communication skills but he’s rocking that beard; it takes him from depressed divorced dad to depressed divorced daddy.

Seblos was cute and in a nice change of pace Disney doesn’t seem to be cynically teasing them then cutting their scenes. It was refreshing to see them just being a couple and to hear Carlos casually refer to himself as gay. In that regard tonight’s ep didn’t seem like it was a Disney show at all and it’s major progress that there are now two main gay characters on HSMTMTS. We learn that Carlos is rich which seems likely to be a source of conflict with Seb who comes from a large farming family.

Bet on It was really fun and I liked that Ricky apparently couldn’t stop singing it. The medley of HSM 2 songs was fun but I’ll be real with you wildcats, I never thought HSM 2 or 3 were nearly as good as the first movie so I’m not sad that they’re doing something else this year.

Wild that Big Red’s mom also calls him Big Red. Salt Lake Slices seems poised to be a big part of S2 both as hangout spot and work location for some of the characters. Redlyn are sweet together but sometimes Big Red comes off as a closeted gay guy which isn’t ideal for a het pairing that is supposedly a big part of S2.

Nice to see Gina so excited to have sleepovers with Ashlyn. We know from 2x03 that Gina contends with being single on Valentine’s day and from her glances at Ricky tonight she’s clearly not over him. Tim’s playing with fire and I can only hope he knows what he’s doing. I liked the little detail of Kourtney having AOC on her vision board, it feels true to the character (hopefully AOC gets elected president one day if the USA doesn’t collapse into a fascist dictatorship or civil war before then). EJ’s beard has got to go but I like that he seems committed to being a better version of himself; very doubtful his plan to go straight to Duke like his forefathers doesn’t change by the end of the season. 

Derek Hough did a good job of playing Zach as a subtly condescending man who managed to swiftly undermine Miss Jenn’s confidence, we’ll see what he and North High bring to the table.

Looking Ahead:

Next week are auditions for Beauty and the Beast, we know Ashlyn gets the role of Belle and EJ has conveniently removed himself from the running for Beast which presumably clears the path for Ricky to take the lead. There’s been some controversy over the casting choices and I’ll save my comments about it for the 2x02 review.

We get to see Lily who looks like a meaner version of season 1 Gina, we’ll see how much depth she actually ends up getting. Howie is introduced in 2x03 and Antoine likely shows up later on. Jack likely shows up towards the end of the season.

Howie seems to have a connection with Kourtney though the character synopsis does say he gets close to a wildcat or two which certainly leaves room to slide him into Gina’s plot. We know Antoine is into Ashlyn so that’s another love triangle to look forward to. Jack was described as having wanderlust and most of the cast seems not to have filmed with him so I think it’s likely that he plays a role in convincing EJ to take a gap year rather than head straight to Duke. 

A translation leak on TikTok reveals that in 2x03 Gina is sad that she’s only gotten a Valentine’s Day gift from her mom. A brief clip from the promo shows up her on her porch at night holding a heart shaped box of chocolates. If that’s supposed to be from a secret or semi-secret admirer than it has to be from either EJ, Ricky, or Howie. If it’s a platonic gift then it could be from anyone, we’ll see what Tim has up his sleeves.

Nini moving back to SLC is a question of when not if. It’s going to be very difficult to bring her back in a way that’s justified and also doesn’t leave the time she spends in Denver looking like a total waste. Frankly, I’d rather the show just bite the bullet and bring her back with as little fuss as possible.

We’re possibly around a quarter way through HSMTMTS given that the mains have 4 season contracts and presuming that the show is not cancelled earlier. At the very least the show will be radically different after S4 if they try to continue it as Olivia has made very clear that she’s going to leave asap to pursue her burgeoning music career full time (notably she’s only done the bare minimum of promo for S2). 

Looming over the remaining seasons of HSMTMTS is what the professional relationship between Olivia and Josh looks like especially since in many ways the show is built around Ricky and Nini. Off screen relationships have often caused on screen problems and dating a co-worker is rarely a good idea since even clean breakups leave lingering resentments. Obviously the Jolivia breakup was not clean, Driver’s License, Deja Vu, and Good 4 U (which is a certified bop) were clearly written from a place of hurt and in some ways were written to hurt. It’s no surprise that Joshua has dropped his duet with Sabrina Carpenter from his EP; someone on his team at least is trying to stop the damage to his reputation. There’s a decent chance that Olivia’s songs becoming such hits has irreparably damaged Joshua Bassett’s reputation among the same pool of largely young women that he’s targeting his music towards thereby cutting off his music career at the knees. If nothing else this behind the scenes drama should keep things entertaining for a while.

Until next week Wildcats 

[be11atrixthestrange]

The Loft Chapter 4

After a bad break-up, Hermione Granger moves into a messy and dysfunctional loft with four single men. What starts as a temporary home until she gets back on her feet becomes so much more, as she learns there's a lot of life - and love - that happens at rock-bottom.

Inspired by the TV Series ‘New Girl’

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Also on A03 | FFN

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Chapter 4

[Ron]

Ron would best describe the loft as a mess, but a clean one. After hours of scrubbing, the windows are clear and smudge-free, and the concrete floor shimmers with its long-forgotten natural color. What makes him feel most at home, however, is not the fresh pine scent of the couch cushions, but the fact that they're strewn about the floor like plush stepping stones. The boys have arranged them around the trash can in the middle of the room, which is empty save for a dried-up bottle of Febreeze.

Ron's desperate to know Hermione's opinion on the new decor. Despite lifting an eyebrow at the bad doodles of United States presidents and the cardboard cutout of a bald eagle plastered to the wall, she doesn't say anything. She must know better than to think he'll offer an explanation.

After cleaning and decorating the loft, Neville, Seamus, and Harry dispersed into their rooms to make themselves presentable, leaving Ron and Hermione alone in the kitchen to finish up the last of the dishes. He hands her a plate to dry, and she takes it with a smile.

"Thank you for helping, Hermione."

"Of course! But I'm not sure why we're cleaning so much if it's just going to get trashed."

Trashed might be an exaggeration, but she's right in the sense that the new cleanliness of the loft isn't going to last very long. Tonight they're throwing a party, Hermione's first as a loft resident, and she's in for a treat. The boys have been purposely vague regarding loft parties, as any accurate descriptions might turn her off attending. Ron would hate to have her make other plans tonight, whether those be with the girls, or worse, a date.

"Hey, we're not animals. But if it's going to get trashed, it's nice to know it's new-trashed, not old-trashed," he says, earning an eye-roll from Hermione.

"So I'm guessing that this party is America-themed?"

"No. Why would you guess that?"

"No reason," she says, eyeing the miniature blow-up Uncle Sam doll that the boys have been tossing around like a basketball.

"The decorations are just for the drinking game we're going to play," he says, motioning to the multiple cases of PBR lining the wall.

"Right, how do you play?"

"It's not really a game you can explain. You just have to experience it. Nice try, though."

"Then I look forward to experiencing it." She finishes drying the last dish and stacks it away neatly in the cupboard. "What else do we need to set up? Everyone's coming at eight, right?

Ron checks his watch. "Shit, you're right. People should be here soon. I'm going to get ready. Can you start on the beer castle?"

"The beer castle?"

"Yeah. Just stack beer cans in a castle shape around the trash can in the living room."

Ron doesn't wait for Hermione's reaction before he slips back into his room. He rummages around his closet in search of something to wear, something that makes him look both put-together and laid back, ready to party. He lands on a pair of khaki shorts and a pastel blue t-shirt that looks quite nice with his eyes.

He's pretty sure Hermione hasn't seen him in it. Not that it matters, anyway.

He pulls off his shirt and catches a glimpse of himself in the mirror. Surprisingly, he looks pretty damn good. He's a bit skinny but firm and fit. It comes as a pleasant surprise because he's been slacking on his workouts ever since Hermione moved in and he lost his home gym. It's been difficult to exercise in his tiny bedroom, so he doesn't. He hasn't wanted to work out in the living room for fear of Hermione seeing him, but maybe he should give that a try…

With a shrug, Ron pulls off his pants and stands back up. He can't resist the urge to take another look at himself in the mirror. As much as he wishes he was a bit more muscular, there are pros to being lanky. By comparison, his scrawny self really does accentuate his already well-endowed state.

He checks himself out from a few more angles before deciding that physically, he doesn't have much to complain about.

Before he has the chance to put on his pants, the door to his bedroom swings open. Ron startles when it crashes against the wall and Hermione barges in uninvited.

"Hey Ron, I have a question about the beer can castle—"

"Hermione!" Ron, completely naked, scrambles for something to cover himself with but doesn't have time before she's standing right in front of him. "You have to knock!"

She's staring at the two cans in her hands until she pauses and looks up, but her gaze never makes it to his face. Instead, it lands directly on his penis, and she seems to stare at it for an eternity. Thanks to his utter panic, Ron can't move.

It almost feels like time has stopped, and he's frozen there like the statue of David while Hermione ogles him. She appears to be frozen too, eyes wide, mouth agape, staring.

If his dick could blush, it would match the color of his ears, which are bleeding scarlet.

For a split second, he wonders if it's truly as bad as it seems. Maybe Hermione likes what she sees. A tiny seed of hope takes root.

But that hope shatters when she opens her mouth to speak and lets out the worst sound he's ever heard. It's somewhere between a scream and a giggle, and he wouldn't wish such a reaction on his worst enemy.

Without further ado, a red-faced Hermione mutters a quick and useless 'sorry' and rushes out the door and slams it behind her.

Ron stands there for a few seconds, dumbfounded, before the reality of what just happened crashes down.

Hermione just laughed at his dick.

Well, fuck.

Now that he knows how she really feels, he'll never be able to look her in the eye again.

Ron stays in his room until there's a knock on the loft's door, and he has to show his face in order to let in his guests. He's opted for a hoodie over his shirt so he can hide behind the hood whenever Hermione looks at him, because when she does, his neck prickles with heatwaves, and he feels like he's naked again.

It doesn't make sense — Ron's never reacted so strongly to having a woman see him naked, and he's had a decent amount of experience in that arena. He's no Seamus, of course, but he's not a stranger to the occasional hookup.

It's just because she laughed—no other reason.

He opens the door to find his sister Ginny, her roommate Demelza, and two of their mutual friends—Dean and Luna.

"Welcome," says Ron, opening the door.

"Hey, Ron!" says Ginny. "Hermione!"

Ginny crashes into Hermione for a hug, then introduces her to everyone else. "This is Hermione, Ron's new roommate."

"Nice to meet you all!"

Hermione falls into easy conversation with Ron's friends before they get a chance to greet him, but they don't seem bothered by it. He watches her through narrowed eyes and doesn't even realize he's glaring at her until she looks at him and scowls.

"What?"

"Nothing." He turns back toward his friends, hoping they didn't notice their interaction. "Make yourselves at home. Drinks in the fridge, food on the counter, and you know where the beer is," he says, pointing at the beer castle.

Harry turns the music up just as their guests crack open their beers, and everyone starts to relax. Except for Ron, of course. Even though he's hyper-aware of Hermione, he still manages to bump into her and make more frequent eye contact than he'd like.

For some reason, they seem to gravitate toward the kitchen to replenish food and drinks at the same time, and they barely manage a conversation when they run into each other.

"Oh, sorry," she says, trying to slide past him, only for him to walk directly into her in an attempt to get out of her way.

"Erm—"

"I'll go left; you go right."

"Yeah, okay."

Are they always this awkward around each other?

Every time he tries to act normal, all he can hear is her weird little high-pitched scream-laugh, and he just wants to disappear into his hoodie. On occasion, Ron can sense Hermione watching him, but she looks away whenever he tries to catch her gaze. Not that he wants to make awkward eye contact with her, he just wants her to leave him alone.

He continues to keep himself at a safe distance to avoid talking to her, making sure he's always involved in a conversation with someone else. Over the course of the party, he becomes progressively more resentful of how much mental space it requires to avoid her.

Then, like a hawk, she swoops in and catches him alone while he's in the kitchen grabbing another beer.

"Ron!"

"Jesus," he says, nearly crashing into her. "You scared me."

"Why are you being so weird?"

"I'm not."

"Is it because I saw you naked?"

"No."

"It's not a big deal, Ron."

Of course, she has the nerve to act like he's the one who's being childish.

"Oh yeah, Hermione?" he says. "Then why did you laugh? Too immature?"

Hermione opens her mouth to answer, but in the moment before she does, he turns away from her and shouts to the crowd, "Who's ready for True American?"

The loft whoops their approval and begins to gather in the living room.

"Right now?" whispers Hermione behind him. "We're still talking."

But he ignores her.

"The game is True American," shouts Ron at a volume much louder than necessary for the size of the room. "Say 'aye' if you've played before."

There's a chorus of 'ayes' and a room-wide scrambling toward the furniture. When everyone hops onto a cushion, a table, or a chair, Ron notices Hermione looking around frantically, her expression disheartened.

"I'm the only one who's never played?" she asks.

"It's okay, Hermione," says Harry. "All you need to know is that it's about fifty percent drinking, fifty percent life-size Candy Land."

"I'd argue that it's seventy-five percent drinking, twenty percent Candy Land, and the floor is lava," says Ginny. "Which is why we're standing on the furniture. Hermione, you're melting."

"Oh no," she says, hopping up onto the coffee table between the beer castle and Demelza, who extends a hand to help her.

"Honestly, guys, it's ninety-percent drinking and has a very loose Candy Land-like structure to it," says Neville. "There's also a truth or dare component."

"I just need to know how to play—"

"You're smart; you'll catch on," says Ron. His tone comes off a little more terse than he'd intended, so he quickly continues, "I'll start. JFK!"

"FDR!"

Everyone but Hermione shuffles to a new location, avoiding the lava floor, and Hermione is left standing in her same spot between the beer castle and now, Luna.

"What just happened?" she asks, looking confused.

"Hermione, since you're the last to find a new spot, you have to pick someone, and they'll ask you a truth or dare question," explains Ginny. "Just answer and drink."

"Okay, then," she says. "Um, Neville. Truth."

"How do you like loft life?" asks Neville brightly, eliciting a groan from the crowd.

"Neville, you can do better—" starts Seamus.

"It's her first game!" he says. "Let's ease her in. So, Hermione?"

"Well, it's great so far."

"Just so you know, not every question will be that tame," says Ginny from her precarious perch on the armchair.

"Go figure," says Hermione before chugging back a gulp of her PBR.

As soon as she swallows her drink, Neville shouts out, "The only thing we have to fear is…"

"Fear itself!"

When the crowd joins in, Hermione looks around the room, dumbfounded.

"Hermione, you didn't complete the quote," says Harry.

"I didn't know I was supposed to!"

"Well, now you do! Drink, and then pick someone."

"I feel like I'm at a disadvantage since you didn't explain the game," she says, challenging Harry.

"We've all been there," Harry says, shrugging, "It's a rite of passage."

"Fine," Hermione takes a long swig and points at Ginny. "Ginny, truth."

"Sweet!" says Ginny, beaming mischievously. "Hermione, are you attracted to anyone in the loft?"

Ron's ears tingle at Ginny's question, and he tunes in for Hermione's answer.

"Nope," she says, taking a hasty drink.

In his curiosity, Ron has made prolonged eye contact with Hermione for the first time since the penis-incident, but when she catches his gaze, he quickly looks away. Ron's stomach clenches. Not that he wants Hermione to be attracted to him, but after she saw him naked, it's quite the low blow. Trying to look casual, he pulls back a swig of beer.

"Really?" presses Seamus. "None of us?"

"Ginny's turn!" says Hermione, ignoring Seamus' question.

"Alright, here we go," says Ginny, her eyes narrowed in concentration. "Abe Lincoln! George Washington!"

"Cherry Tree!" shouts Ron.

"Correct! Pick a person and an amendment!"

"Hermione, second."

Everyone looks at Hermione, and Ginny tosses her an unopened can of beer.

"I don't understand," she says. "You still haven't given me any information."

"You have to shotgun a beer! And then pick someone to ask truth or dare," says Dean.

"Wait, what? That doesn't make any sense."

"Give it time, Hermione," encourages Neville. "I didn't understand it at first either."

Hermione groans and sets down her half-full PBR, and reaches into her pocket for her key. She stabs the bottom of her can, then tips it into her mouth, chugging it down while the loft's onlookers cheer in the background.

Eyebrows raised, Ron watches her shotgun her beer, trying to ignore the smile tugging at the corner of his lips. He never thought he'd see that, and he isn't complaining.

"Yeah, there's no going back now," says Hermione once she finishes. "Luna, truth."

"Yay!" says Luna. "Did you and Ron get into a fight? You've been avoiding each other all night."

Ron's face grows hot. He bores his gaze toward Luna, who is staring intently at Hermione and doesn't seem to notice Ron's glare.

"Is that really your question?" she asks.

"Yep!"

"Luna, you've never seen us interact," says Ron. "How would you know that?"

Luna shrugs. "I can just tell."

"You know what," says Harry as he looks between Ron and Hermione. "You two have been acting weird tonight."

"Is it that obvious?" asks Hermione.

Ron feels Hermione's eyes on him, and his palms break out in a sweat. Once again, his refusal to make direct eye contact probably serves as a sufficient answer to Hermione's question.

"Well, fine then," she says, turning back toward Luna. "Earlier, I walked in on him changing. But it wasn't a big deal."

"Ron, is this true?" asks Harry.

Everyone turns to look at Ron, who groans. "Yes, but as she said, it wasn't a big deal."

His roommates might as well be shining an interrogation light on him by the way they all continue to stare.

"If it wasn't a big deal, why are you all fidgety?" asks Seamus.

"I'm not," says Ron, but his defensive tone suggests otherwise.

"Yeah, women have seen you naked before, Ron," says Luna. "Why is it different with Hermione?"

"Whose turn is it?" says Ron, much louder than necessary. Anything to divert the attention from Luna's oddly specific question.

"Oh, it's my turn," says Luna. "One, two, three, go!"

Luna holds up the number five to her forehead, and everyone else follows suit with their own number. Ron looks frantically around the room and breathes a sigh of relief when he matches numbers with Harry.

It appears that Hermione, who was the last to catch on, as usual, is the only one without a partner.

"Not again!" she says. "But at least that one made sense. Seamus, truth."

"Are you sure you want to do that?" asks Ginny.

But it's too late. Seamus, who is already slurring his words, looks at Hermione and asks, "So, Hermione, what does Ron's dick look like?"

"Dude, what the fuck?" shouts Ron.

"Seriously, Seamus," adds Harry. "That's not even an interesting question."

"Sure, it is! I'm interested!"

"Old news," pipes in Neville. "We've all seen Ron's dick."

Embarrassed, Ron glances toward Hermione. She looks lost for words. "You don't have to answer, Hermione."

"No, we haven't!" says Seamus.

"Really?" says Dean as he side-eyes Seamus. "I've seen it, and I don't even live here."

Ron looks toward the loft door. Maybe he can make a run for it.

"Am I the only roommate who hasn't seen your dick?" asks Seamus, now appearing uninterested in Hermione's answer. When everyone in the room turns to look at Ron, he feels like he's naked in a crowd again.

Ron shrugs. "I guess so," he says, casually taking a sip of his beer.

"When? Where?"

"I don't know, dude. Locker rooms, penis fights, I'm sure you'll see it someday," says Ron. "Can we stop talking about my dick, now?"

"Yes, let's move on," says Hermione with an apologetic glance in Ron's direction. "Just ask me a different question."

"Fine," says Seamus, his words melding together, "Hermione, what did you think of Ron's dick?"

"Seriously, Seamus?"

"I guess we can't," mutters Ron.

Hermione rolls her eyes. "Whatever. He has a very nice penis."

"I wouldn't know," says Seamus bitterly. Then, just as quickly, "JFK!"

"FDR!"

Everyone scrambles for a new spot, and this time Ron's the only one left out in the shuffle.

"Fuck," he says, looking around for someone who won't ask him a dick-related question. "Uh, Demelza, truth."

Demelza smiles. "How did Hermione react to seeing your dick?"

"I picked you because I thought you wouldn't ask about my dick, Demelza."

"Sorry," shrugs Demelza.

"It wasn't a big deal," says Hermione.

Before he can stop himself, Ron scoffs, and once again, everyone snaps their heads in his direction.

"Sounds like it was a big deal."

"It wasn't!" says Hermione. "I mean—"

"Hermione, don't," says Ron, but Hermione continues without a missed beat.

"I laughed at first, but only because I was nervous."

"You LAUGHED?" asked Demelza. "No wonder you two are being so weird."

"It was an accident!"

"Let's move on," growls Ron. "Demelza, your turn." He shoots a glare in Hermione's direction.

"Niagara!" says Demelza.

Everyone brings their drink to their mouth and begins chugging. As soon as each person finishes, they toss their empty cans to the PBR castle in the middle of the room. Hermione, having caught on a moment too late, is the last one to toss it.

Hermione groans. "Harry, dare."

Harry grins. "Well, to make Ron feel better, I dare you to repeat after me. I love Ron's cock."

Ron's ears grow warm again, but they're also buzzing from the beer, which takes precedence over his embarrassment. Also, it'll be interesting to hear Hermione follow through with this dare.

Hermione narrows her eyes at him. "Fine. I love Ron's penis."

Ron sends her a curious glance. She said it so… formally, like she was taking an oath in court.

There's a tense silence while everyone stares at Hermione. "Try again," says Harry.

"Why?"

"I love Ron's cock," he repeats. "Say it."

"I did."

"You said penis. Not cock."

"Same thing!" she protests.

"Hermione, why can't you say cock?" repeats Harry.

"Penis is the technical term," she says, crossing her arms in front of her chest.

Ron chuckles at the argument playing out before him.

"What about dick?" suggests Demelza.

Hermione stares at Demelza, her cheeks flooding with color. "Why?"

"Schlong? Wang? Knob?" offers Seamus.

"Seriously, what's wrong with 'penis'?"

"Nothing, it's just weird that you won't say cock," says Harry. "I think that should require two drinks for refusing a dare."

Ron looks around the room; everyone nods in agreement.

"Fine," says Hermione before taking a second sip.

As soon as she finishes her sip, Harry shouts, "Give me liberty or—"

"Give me death!"

As assumed, Hermione is the only one who doesn't catch on.

"Ugh," she says. "Dean, dare."

"I dare you to make it even!" slurs Dean.

"What does that mean?"

"He showed you his; now you show him yours."

"Executive order," says Ginny. "Vetoed."

"Why?" asks Ron. "I don't think it's a bad idea. Plus, it would make me feel better." He pouts at Hermione with wide, puppy-dog eyes and grins when her cheeks flood with color. He's well aware that she never responded to Dean.

"Too far, that's why," says Ginny.

"Well," says Ron. "You guys are no fun."

There's a moment of silence when no one seems to remember where they are in the game or whose turn it is. Seamus breaks the silence with a question directed at Ron.

"Can I please just see it?"

Ron groans and rolls his eyes. "No. And I'm going to bed."

"Why?" whines Seamus.

"I didn't think my dick would be such a huge topic of conversation, yet here we are."

"More of a slightly above average topic if you ask me," says Harry.

"See what I mean?" says Ron, as he hops off his cushion and turns his back to the crowd. "Goodnight."

x

After chugging a tall glass of water, Ron retreats to his room for the night, ready to escape his roommates' drunken shenanigans. He changes into sweats, settles underneath the covers, and is about to turn off the lights when there's a knock at his door.

"Erm, come in."

The door creaks open, and Hermione pokes her head into his room. "Hi," she says.

"Hi," he responds, raising his eyebrows at his unexpected guest. "Thank you for knocking."

"So—"

"I'm not naked. Sorry to disappoint you." He cuts her off, aiming for an icy tone, but unfortunately, it comes off whiny.

Maybe he has been acting a bit petty and childish.

She stares at him, expressionless, for a few tense moments and then bursts out into laughter. He can't help but follow suit. Her laughter is quite contagious when he's fully clothed.

"For the record, I'm not laughing at the thought of you naked," she assures him as if reading his mind.

"Sure, Hermione. Sure," he says. His cheeks are heating up, but he's glad it's not from embarrassment this time.

"I meant it, you know," she says, as soon as her laughter dies down.

"You meant what?"

"That you have a very nice—" she clears her throat, "cock."

Ron beams — at both the compliment and her word choice. "You said cock!"

She stands a little taller. "I've been practicing."

"Say it again!" he urges.

"Please don't make me."

"Pretty please—"

"Fine," she says, taking a step, so she's fully in the room. The door closes behind her. "Cock. Dick. Schlong. Willy."

"Okay, now you're embarrassing yourself."

"Give me more words," she says, now grinning. "I want to prove that I can do it."

"Okay, why don't you try Peter Pecker. Big Red. The Orange Cannon."

Hermione's face flashes red, and she slaps a hand to her mouth.

"Too much for you?" asks Ron.

"Did you nickname your penis?"

"No!" Ron protests, although his flushing cheeks likely give him away. "Those are from former lovers."

"Oh, well, I'm not going to say them then."

"Why not?"

"Because I'm not your former lover," she argues.

He catches a slight emphasis on' former' and forces himself to keep his expression neutral. Maybe some good will come from the penis incident. Either that, or he's imagining it.

"While technically true, I still want to hear you say them."

"Too bad."

Thankful that the awkwardness seems to be dissipating, Ron grins at her. "Then you'll have to make it up to me another way."

As soon he speaks, he winces, hearing the implication of his words a moment too late. Did he actually just say that?

Hermione doesn't waste any time with her response. "How? By making it even?"

Ron cannot interpret her expression — it almost looks like she's trying to keep it neutral. In his effort to decipher it, he hesitates for too long, and by leaving her comment hanging, he might as well have agreed.

"That was actually what I came in here to do," she says, biting her lip.

"Really?"

"Yes."

At this point, it feels like his whole face is on fire, and Hermione's smirk isn't helping at all. He can't bring himself to look away from her eyes nor say anything, as the air feels too thick with tension. She could be bluffing, but he has no desire to call her on it if she is.

Is she joking?

His question answers itself when Hermione averts her eyes to the ground and hooks her thumbs at the hem of her shirt.

Holy shit. She's not.

Hermione keeps her eyes on the ground, and Ron can't help but grin at how her cheeks turn bashfully pink. He wishes he could help it because he's definitely beaming like an idiot. With a deep, nervous breath, she pulls her shirt up and over her bra—

She's not wearing a bra.

Fuck.

Ron lets out a breath that he didn't even know he was holding. "Well damn, Hermione."

Still holding up her shirt, she meets his gaze. "Yes, Ron?"

"You have amazing… knockers."

"Ron!" she says, shoving her shirt back down. He immediately misses the view, but he doesn't regret his word choice. "They're called breasts."

"Boobies. Bing Bongs. Spongey love mountains."

"And I'm the immature one?"

"Jesus, woman, just take the compliment! I'm trying to tell you that I love your tatas." He speaks before he can filter himself, hoping she doesn't read too much into his phrasing. There's nothing wrong with showing appreciation, after all.

She lets a small smile at his admission but quickly narrows her eyes and crosses her arms over her now fully-clothed chest. "If I have to say cock, you have to say breasts."

"Sorry, Hermione," says Ron, his tone veering dangerously close to flirtation. Then, feeling a bit bolder, he continues, "what I meant to say is you have wonderful breasts."

Her face tinges red, and she smiles smugly. "Thank you, Ron."

"You're very welcome. Your turn."

"What?"

He motions toward his pants. "I want to hear you say it again."

She groans. "Fine, but this is the last time."

"Sure it is."

She rolls her eyes before continuing. "Ron, you have a lovely cock."

His breath hitches in his throat. Hearing her say that again definitely does something to him, and it's not helped by the sincerity in her tone. She's not lying. As a result, his hair stands on end, heat pools in his stomach, and he's thankful for the positioning of his bed covers.

"Thank you, Hermione," he responds, looking directly into her warm brown eyes. Reflecting her slight smile, they appear softer and darker than usual, as if they're deep in thought.

Ron and Hermione keep eye contact for a few elongated seconds before the awkwardness of the interaction kicks in, and they avert their eyes, looking anywhere but each other. What an odd conversation to have with a roommate.

"I should go to bed," says Hermione, pointing at the door.

"Erm, yeah. Me too."

"So I guess I'll see you in the morning?"

"Good night," he says, but Hermione's already out the door. He sighs.

It shuts behind her, and Ron turns off the light and leans back in his bed. When he closes his eyes, the image of Hermione's perfect breasts is still fresh in his mind, and he makes no effort to let it morph into something else because who knows if he'll ever get to see them again.

Why would he? She's just his roommate.

Yeah. I'm definitely attracted to my roommate.

A smile creeps onto his face. It feels good to admit it, even if it's only to himself.

[aion-rsa]

Scarface: Where Tony Montana Went Wrong

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“All I have in this world is my balls and my word, and I don’t break them for no one,” Tony Montana declares in the 1983 gangster classic, Scarface. Yet Al Pacino’s antihero breaks both in his quest for money, power, and women. And just as he is on the brink of winning the trifecta, he is blown away like so much dust up a nose.

Did he lose because the Cuban mobster didn’t heed the advice of his first crime boss? Or is it because he just couldn’t stand to see his sister and his best friend wearing his-and-her pajamas? In truth, Montana’s fall can probably be traced back to when he learned to speak English by “watching guys like Humphrey Bogart and James Cagney.”

Directed by Brian De Palma, and written by Oliver Stone, Scarface is a remake of Howard Hawks’ vastly influential 1932 mob movie, so Montana’s explosive descent was preordained. Tony Montana continued Pacino’s run of criminal icons, which included Sonny in Dog Day Afternoon and the ultimate crime family head, Michael Corleone in The Godfather films. The actor supplanted Paul Muni’s Tony Carmonte as the recognizably scarred face of the title role. Pacino would go on to play Carlito in Carlito’s Way and Lefty in Donnie Brasco, but while each hoodlum brings a new facet to his rogues gallery, none of his gangsters ever achieve their ultimate desires. They almost all reach dizzying heights, and everyone of them sees the dream slip through their fingers. Still, Montana experiences perhaps the greatest fall of all.

The original 1932 film took place during Prohibition when crime was a viable means of survival. De Palma’s adaptation happens in the Reagan era, a time when lucky opportunists could get their lips around the spigots of cash before it got a chance to trickle down. Tony’s economic theory is much more succinct: “You know what capitalism is? Getting fucked.”

Scarface is a rags-to-riches-to-self-destructive fireball story, and nothing succeeds like excess. Montana’s first crime boss in America, Frank Lopez (Robert Loggia), has weathered the climate change from President Carter to the Gipper, and warns Tony to never “underestimate the other guy’s greed.”

In the original Howard Hughes production, Tony was an immigrant from Italy. In the Cold War era film, Montana is a refugee from Cuba. Their shared first mistake is to believe in the American Dream.

The World Is Yours

These words are flashed in both films and hit each of the two criminal aspirants as hard as the “give me your tired, poor, and hungry” promises carved under the Statue of Liberty. Scarface opens shortly after the Mariel boatlift, the 1980 exodus which followed Cuba’s economic crash. Montana seeks asylum, telling immigration officers he is a political prisoner who doesn’t agree with his country’s politics and owns nothing under communism. He says even American prison is better than his life on the Caribbean island. The officers note his criminal past, the telltale tattoo on his arm, and the scar on his face, which despite their insults was obviously not caused by oral sex.

In exchange for a Green Card, Montana and his friend Manny Ribera (Steven Bauer) assassinate Gen. Emilio Rebenga, who tortured the brother of the crime boss Lopez. Tony settles in sunny Miami. And when he gets out of the kitchen and into the heat of crime, he hits the ground running. “The World Is Yours,” after all. All you have to do is take it, and Montana has both hands out.

Frank warns his protégé, “The guys who last in this business are the guys who fly straight – lowkey, quiet; and the guys who want it all – chicas, champagne, flash – they don’t last.” But Montana is a meteor, bound to burn up in the atmosphere. He gets caught on the orbit of Alejandro Sosa (Paul Shenar), agreeing to supply cocaine from Bolivia independent of the other drug lords. Within a few years, Montana is doing so well, the feds target him for tax evasion.

Tony’s Betrayal of Frank Lopez

Montana’s betrayal of Frank Lopez is crucial to his downfall. Frank is the father figure who initially took a chance on Tony. He let him rise through the ranks, even as he tried to bite off more than he could chew. Frank’s biggest mistake is not making sure his underlings follow his sage advice. He also ignores one of his own commandments. Lopez underestimates Montana’s greed. He trusts Tony to accompany his trusted second-gun Omar Suarez (F. Murray Abraham) to Bolivia to meet with Sosa, and continues to let Tony operate after the druglord hangs Suarez from a helicopter.

The deal Montana makes behind Frank’s back is a major step toward the fall. The vow Tony takes never to betray Sosa ultimately leads to the last splash. Montana breaks his word to both of these men, and they bust his balls as a result. When Tony returns to Miami, Frank is suspicious over Omar’s death and his returning soldier’s independence. As Montana begins to build his own cocaine empire, Frank orders a professional hit.

For gangsters, the only good cop is a bad cop, and it is advisable to grease the wheels which move crime. Mel Bernstein (Harris Yulin) demands his take early in the film at the Babylon Club, which has the perfect cocktail napkins for bribery notes. Bernstein was willing to overlook the murders of Rebenga, “Hector the Toad,” and “that bloodbath at the Sun Ray Hotel.” Tony should have taken him at his word when the cop said he could clean up Tony’s Lopez mess.

Before Tony eliminates Frank, he is hungry. The money and drugs are not a distraction. After he begins to accumulate power, he lets his public profile rise and indulges in conspicuous consumption. Montana keeps a chained-up tiger in front of his compound just to let everyone know how powerful he is. There are real life precedents for this. Colombian drug lord Pablo Escobar imported hippos for his private zoo. Brooklyn mobster “Crazy” Joe Gallo kept a pet lion named Cleo in the basement of his headquarters. The scenario was also probably inspired by Miami’s most notorious drug lord, Mario Tabraue, whose predilection for wild cats was featured in the Netflix documentary Tiger King. But the most conspicuous acquisition Montana leveraged cut Frank the deepest.

It’s always a mistake to go after the boss’ girl. James Cagney’s Tommy Powers knew this in The Public Enemy (1931). James Woods’ Maximillian “Max” Bercovicz skirts this in Sergio Leone’s Once Upon a Time in America (1984). Montana sets out to steal Frank’s trophy wife, Elvira Hancock (Michelle Pfeiffer), from the moment he lays eyes on her, though he waits for the height of his reign to claim her. He does it as much to emasculate his former boss as he does it out of desire. It’s a betrayal equal to having Manny whack Frank while he pleads for his life.

The new couple is married by 1983, but with a marriage always on the rock.

Don’t Get High on Your Own Supply

Montana’s downfall is aided, abetted, but most of all mirrored in his descent into addiction. He probably took his first sniff from Elvira’s stash, but even as Montana bemoans, “I got a junkie for a wife,” he doesn’t get wind of his own problem. “Another Quaalude, and she’ll be mine again,” he reasons as the trophy wife climbs off the pedestal and up on a shelf.

Montana is in deep drug denial when Elvira leaves him after he openly complains she can’t have children because she is polluted with the yaya he’s been peddling. He should at least entertain the notion when she openly wonders if he would even be alive to raise their child.

In American Gangster, Denzel Washington’s Frank Lucas knows enough not to dip his nose into the supply. And while Pacino’s slide into the junkie aspects of his character is physically more subtle than Ray Liotta’s bug-eyed Henry Hill in Goodfellas, the results are just as devastating. When Montana was crushing the competition and bagging the Sandman, he had discipline. His mind gets muddled as his drug use spirals out of control. He makes rash decisions, dips into schizoid delusions, and succumbs to white powder paranoia. He can’t see his way through the haze to find alternatives. He walks right into the undercover cop’s money laundering bust.

The drugs dull his instincts. If Tony wasn’t high at the security command center, he would have seen Sosa’s soldiers encroaching his compound over the cameras. He had 10 bodyguards on the property, he could have positioned them defensively. The only thing his ultimate hit man is hiding behind is a pair of killer shades. He never should have been able to sneak behind Montana’s back. Tony also wouldn’t have gotten rid of his most trusted weapon.

Over and Underestimating Little Friends

Tony Montana’s right-hand man would have been the best, first defense against the Sosa attack. What Tony does to Manny Ribera is his worst action. The two are virtually brothers. Their bond goes beyond being partners in crime, it tightened in the “Freedomtown” concentration camp, and solidified in the Miami chainsaw massacre. It is because Manny is Tony’s most trusted soldier that he will never be good enough for Tony’s sister Gina (Mary Elizabeth Mastrantonio). Tony’s saving grace is he believes he is doing all this to ensure a better life for his sister. Gina is supposed to represent the innocence he sacrificed, but she is also an unattainable sin.Tony’s mother doesn’t try to separate her children merely because her daughter might be swallowed in the criminal life; she is curbing what she sees as Tony’s unnatural urges. 

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Even if Tony doesn’t see Manny as a rival for his sister’s affections, he still sees him through the eyes of a fellow criminal, and a womanizing one at that. Tony is just like his mother, who rejects him. Tony brands his friend, and ultimately seals his fate with it.

The problem is Ribera wasn’t made to be a gangster. He is a loyal and efficient consigliere and soldier for Tony’s crew, but he would have been happier slapping his name on knockoff designer jeans. Besides the bubbling incestuous tension exacerbated by the coke haze, Tony doesn’t want to see his best friend happier than him, and denies Gina a real chance at the happiness he wants for her.

It’s the one thing Tony can’t buy for her. Gina and Manny fully expect Tony to be thrilled by their marriage. They were going to surprise him with the news. Tony’s incestuous protectiveness speeds his downfall. He murders Manny as a punishment. Gina is shot by Sosa’s men. Montana loses the two most important people in his life, and his inability to control his lusts destroy them all.

“Say Goodnight to the Bad Guy”

The biggest contributory factor in Tony’s downfall is his humanity. In The Godfather, Sonny Corleone advises his brother Michael not to take things too personally in business. When Lopez gives Montana the mission of delivering a bundle of cocaine to Columbian dealers, the rising mobster takes things very personally. The deal goes bad when Montana’s friend Angel Fernandez is murdered with a chainsaw in a scene so aurally graphic (watch it again, there’s no violence shown, only heard), it almost got the film an X rating.

It was allowed in the film in the name of education, Stone pointed to a DEA report which detailed the exact scenario. Tony teaches the Colombians a lesson in humanity. Not content with leaving with the cash and the coke, he kills every single gang member who had anything to do with Angel’s death.

Tony also lets his conscience be his guide when he’s working the GPI on a hit. Faced with serious jail time for his tax evasion arrest, he makes a deal with Sosa, who is also under fire. Montana agrees to fly to New York and assassinate a journalist before he can give a speech on Sosa’s organization. A bomb has been planted in the journalist’s car, and Tony is in charge of tailing until the perfect detonation point. But when Tony arrives on the scene to assassinate the journalist, he notices the man’s wife and children are with him. Montana not only breaks his word, the promise to protect his powerful partner, but he murders Sosa’s right hand man, Alberto, rather than kill the children playing in the back seat.

“I Always Tell The Truth. Even When I Lie.”

Tony Montana may have been the ballsiest and most charismatic of his machismo mob, but he wasn’t the brightest. He acknowledges his intellectual shortcomings, “I come from the gutter,” he admits. “I know that. I got no education, but that’s okay. I know the street.” But he doesn’t read signs. He can’t tell a freeway from a dead end. Frank Lopez may be a blowhard, but his words of wisdom could have been carved in the cement. 

All the concrete Tony brags about has gone to his head, making his skull thicker than Pacino’s accent. Montana is brash and unbending, narcissistically adherent to only his own advice, and his own worst counsel. His anger blinds him, the battery is running low on his foresight, and he’s so flashy his enemies can see him coming from miles away. And he can’t see them when they’re standing close enough to breathe on the back of his neck. 

Final Massacre

Of course the most obvious reason Tony ends up the way does is because he fights off an army by himself. He’s got quite an arsenal, and the coke probably makes it seem like a good idea at the time, but the decision to stay and fight is vastly miscalculated. Even if Tony had survived the last assassination attempt, Sosa’s men would always be hunting for him. It would have been a short hunt. Tony Montana would have died of a heart attack from all that coke he snorted.

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[halothenthehorns]

TLTNL- THE OTHER MINISTER

Remus wasn't really asleep. Sirius had shared a dorm with him for seven years and a flat for the past two years already, he knew how he slept as well as any of his mates, far better than anyone from his own house, so those little snorts he was trying to pass off as his real sleep wasn't fooling anyone, especially not Sirius. He let him keep going though, in hopes that he actually would fall asleep soon. Sirius, for once, was not in a very talkative mood tonight. None of them really were, which is likely why the other three had gone to bed so early after an equally timely supper. The curiosity lingered of course, to ask why Moony would feign sleep instead of staying up for whatever time they pleased, chatting away about nothing. Both of them were night-owls by nature, easily staying awake the latest without even realizing it. James had more been the early riser, bounding out of bed with the most energy easily and whipping them all up for the morning.

Sirius had to force his mind to cut off there, to remind himself again why he couldn't just go out right now and fix this problem that had lead to more awkward silence between them than even Sirius had ever caused. So instead he sat there, stirring his cold tea and gazing out the back door at nothing and forcing himself to remain on an issue he could pick apart. Normally Remus only feigned sleep the night before a full moon, he was usually least talkative those days and still no matter what tried to put a bit of distance between himself and everyone else. This clearly wasn't it this time though. Perhaps he was just dreading what they were going to hear next like they all were, no one wanted to keep going and hear more of Harry's life after what he'd last been through. It grew harder by the day to pretend like this future was fixable, now even he wasn't around to help Harry anymore. Remus was the last of James' friends who stood any chance in staying in Harry's life, and his track record wasn't stellar for doing that so far. Remus likely no more believed than Sirius it would change now.

By far the most agitating part of it was that Moony hadn't just come and talked to him about it. Sure he feigned normalcy earlier when they'd been reading those Beedle tales with Harry, but Sirius had still been waiting at any moment for Remus to turn around and tell him what was really on his mind. He hadn't, and he still wasn't now at the most opportune time.

  He was trying to be mature about this, not let the idea his future would cease after so many terrible and long years crush him into a weeping mess. So he wouldn't go in and bother Moony if he didn't want to be, but also the idea of being shut up in a room alone was just too repellent right now, even in a house he actually liked. What he wouldn't give just to leave, for ten minutes. To be back in the Forbidden Forest where their biggest worry was which direction Moony was headed in, the moonlight bathing everything with a mysterious glow they understood better than anyone, just running to run and caring for nothing more than each other...

James came down the stairs next morning and frowned with concern. Remus was face down into the couch cushions like always, but Sirius seemed to have passed out at the table right where he'd left him last night. He'd fully expected Padfoot and Moony to be up for hours chatting away like he and Lily had, but clearly neither had moved an inch.

With a heavy sigh he went to work getting his infant's morning bottle ready, and settled in the seat next to his best man, sitting contently as his charge at his breakfast. James couldn't sit in silence for long though, so as soon as the baby was done he set him in his highchair and reached over to prod Sirius awake.

He merely groaned and buried his face into the crook of his arms, the cup of tea coming dangerously close to being knocked over in the process. James scooted this farther away from him before doing it again. "You're an idiot."

"Always a lovely thing to hear first moment of the day," he muffled around a yawn.

"Then don't be an idiot and fall asleep in a position that we're going to have to hear about all day," he returned much more pleasantly. It wasn't that unheard of, Sirius had been known to fall asleep over his homework a few times in their sixth year, but they'd learned the reason for that later, at the time they just hadn't realized how right they'd been in mocking him for trying to impress someone.

"Why's he slumped over the table this time?" Lily yawned her greeting as she passed by.

"I'm working up to that," James promised.

She stopped and greeted her infant before giving her husband a quick kiss and sitting down on his other side. Sirius still had his face buried away, but the scent of the bacon and eggs she'd started had his nose finally twitching towards the surface.

It wasn't until Harry came down the stairs that Sirius forced himself to wake fully, rousing by shaking himself and blurry eyes focusing on nothing.

"I volunteer Sirius to be the one to wake up Moony," James said around a full mouth, runny egg still going down his chin.

"I say we leave him there, if he wants to sleep through breakfast that's his problem," Sirius huffed while ripping bacon apart and managing to fit more in his mouth that way.

Lily turned with the same napkin she'd just used on her infant to plop onto James' face as a hint before going up to do it herself while the boys hardly noticed as they kept bickering.

Even as Remus joined, stirring brown sugar into his eggs but still mixing more than eating them, Harry seemed the last to really wake up. Who would have thought he'd long for the dreams of the graveyard back, yet the replay of watching Sirius fall through the veil all night had been more a stab to his soul than Voldemort could ever do to him.

He would have thought coming down here and finally interacting with him would help, but even watching that color on his face, hearing him chat animatedly with his dad, watching him shift his weight restlessly as even food couldn't contain all of his energy, it only made the feeling he'd been suppressing the past day double. This wasn't his Sirius, the one he'd lost fourteen years from now. So how then was he supposed to cope with a loss when it kept making jokes in his face?

Lily had to wrangle all of the boys to get into the living room so they could start Harry's next year, if she had to see her boy with half-lidded eyes much longer she would have tucked him back into bed herself, yet just as much she couldn't have stood hearing the sounds of his nightmares through the walls. She and James had gone in there through the night to soothe him, but he'd hardly seemed any better in their presence.

She'd even seen Sirius duck out, but his presence seemed to have helped no more. Their ability to comfort him had lasted no longer than his childhood innocence, and it was quickly growing worse by the hour as he continued to pull away from them, absorbed more than ever in memories of pain. So she went back to reading, determined more than ever to help him have all of those moments from his past back, so that he could start focusing on his future. 

The book was a gossamer silver, with a little green six on the spine. Its length hadn't lessened any since Harry's fourth year, and cracking open the spine new to the first page still felt like a bad omen.

It was nearing midnight and the Prime Minister was sitting alone in his office, reading a long memo that was slipping through his brain without leaving the slightest trace of meaning behind.

Sirius had been fully prepared to start back in Privet Drive, hearing of Harry's suffering there again somehow worse than ever, so the response on the tip of his tongue fell flat and instead they all gave mutters of confusion, and some relief. They had no clue what a Muggle Prime Minister had to do with anything, but honestly the fact that they weren't focusing on Harry right now was a bit of relief considering where they'd left him.

Lily took this in stride though. The fact that it wasn't starting on Voldemort was as good a note as she could ask for considering previous times these books had gone off Harry, so she happily asked of him, "oh, do you know who it is?"

"No," Harry answered with a shrug. He hadn't done a very good job of keeping up with Muggle politics.

Lily went back to the book in slight disappointment. Her father worked in the current Prime Ministers' office as the secretary, and it would have been interesting if Harry knew anything about the future of the position.

He was waiting for a call from the President of a far distant country, and between wondering when the wretched man would telephone, and trying to suppress unpleasant memories of what had been a very long, tiring, and difficult week, there was not much space in his head for anything else. The more he attempted to focus on the print on the page before him, the more clearly the Prime Minister could see the gloating face of one of his political opponents.

"It's good to know Muggles struggled with their homework as much as we did," Sirius snickered.

James continued listening with high curiosity, he had not a clue how the Muggles government worked, he'd never really asked Lily about it, but this wasn't starting off very interesting.

This particular opponent had appeared on the news that very day, not only to enumerate all the terrible things that had happened in the last week (as though anyone needed reminding) but also to explain why each and every one of them was the government's fault.

"Ugh, politics," Remus made a face.

The Prime Minister's pulse quickened at the very thought of these accusations, for they were neither fair nor true. How on earth was his government supposed to have stopped that bridge collapsing? It was outrageous for anybody to suggest that they were not spending enough on bridges. The bridge was fewer than ten years old, and the best experts were at a loss to explain why it had snapped cleanly in two, sending a dozen cars into the watery depths of the river below.

All five of them lost a shade in color of shock for that. Maybe it was because of their, better knowledge, but Harry most of all shivered at what could really be implied with this. All last summer he'd been begging for this kind of news, now he seemed to be getting it.

To the others it just explained why this was being shown at all, though clearly it had nothing to do with Harry. Perhaps now that the Ministry had no choice at the end of his last year to acknowledge Voldemort's return, they were given the greater impact of this on the Muggle world before going back to him. Not something they really wanted to hear, they could get all they liked of this from their own time.

And how dare anyone suggest that it was lack of policemen that had resulted in those two very nasty and well-publicized murders? Or that the government should have somehow foreseen the freak hurricane in the West Country that had caused so much damage to both people and property? And was it his fault that one of his Junior Ministers, Herbert Chorley, had chosen this week to act so peculiarly that he was now going to be spending a lot more time with his family?

His opponent had concluded what a grim mood this left the country in with a broad grin.

Sirius gave a bleak laugh before saying, "aw, look, the whole country's feeling the same way I am." He waited patently for Prongs to reach over and smack him, but his own smile didn't dim.

And unfortunately, this was perfectly true. The Prime Minister felt it himself; people really did seem more miserable than usual. Even the weather was dismal; all this chilly mist in the middle of July... It wasn't right, it wasn't normal...

"Speak of the You-Know-Who," Remus muttered snidely.

Lily tried for a smile, but it was flimsy at best.

He turned over the second page of the memo, saw how much longer it went on, and gave it up as a bad job. Stretching his arms above his head he looked around his office mournfully. It was a handsome room, with a fine marble fireplace facing the long sash windows, firmly closed against the unseasonable chill. With a slight shiver, the Prime Minister got up and moved over to the window, looking out at the thin mist that was pressing itself against the glass. It was then, as he stood with his back to the room, that he heard a soft cough behind him.

He froze, nose to nose with his own scared-looking reflection in the dark glass. He knew that cough. He had heard it before. He turned very slowly to face the empty room.

He called out, trying to sound braver than he felt.

Lily shifted uneasily in place. This wasn't even about Harry, but if this book started off with anther murder of a stranger being described like Harry's fourth year had, she'd start screaming already. Was it so impossible to keep going without all of this fear smothering them through these words.

For a brief moment he allowed himself the impossible hope that nobody would answer him. However, a voice responded at once, a crisp, decisive voice that sounded as though it were reading a prepared statement. It was coming - as the Prime Minister had known at the first cough - from the froglike little man wearing a long silver wig who was depicted in a small, dirty oil painting in the far corner of the room.

"Ah," they muttered, mostly in further confusion. This man was a Muggle, what was he doing with a Wizards painting? And the description wasn't one they exactly enjoyed, it reminded them far to much of pink, a reminder no one needed as of now.

The painting stated of the urgent business from Fudge and if he could be seen now? After a tiff about his phone call being rearranged against his wishes by this Other Minister, the Prime Minister agreed to see Fudge.

"What was the point of posing it as a question if he was just going to barge in anyways?" James said through gritted teeth, all of them red faced with anger. They'd rather focus on just about anything than hearing more of that dunderhead.

No one responded, but Lily wasn't surprised. It seemed just like Fudge to find himself important enough to rearrange someone else's life for whatever this was that involved him.

He hurried back to his desk, straightening his tie as he went. He had barely resumed his seat, and arranged his face into what he hoped was a relaxed and unfazed expression, when bright green flames burst into life in the empty grate beneath his marble mantelpiece.

"Better than apparating I suppose," Remus couldn't help but grudgingly give credit for this. "Least the flame's a bit of a warning, would have given the man heart failure to just appear out of nowhere instead."

He watched, trying not to betray a flicker of surprise or alarm, as a portly man appeared within the flames, spinning as fast as a top. Seconds later, he had climbed out onto a rather fine antique rug, brushing ash from the sleeves of his long pin-striped cloak, a lime-green bowler hat in his hand. He greeted it was good to see the Prime Minister again, but he could not honestly return the compliment,

None of them could help a little snort of laughter, honestly they all agreed with that.

so said nothing at all. He was not remotely pleased to see Fudge, whose occasional appearances, apart from being downright alarming in themselves, generally meant that he was about to hear some very bad news. Furthermore, Fudge was looking distinctly careworn. He was thinner, balder, and grayer, and his face had a crumpled look.

Harry frowned, though not in sympathy. It was about time someone other than him felt the pressure of what was going on, and if Fudge had only listened sooner maybe he wouldn't be looking so bad.

He shook Fudge's hand very briefly and gestured toward the hardest of the chairs in front of the desk.

"Man knows how to send a message," Sirius said after a heavy chuckle.

The Prime Minister asked how he could be of help, while making it clear as possible he wanted to do no such thing after the week he'd had. Fudge pointed out they'd been having the same bad week. The Brockdale Bridge collapse, the Bones and Vance murders,

Lily couldn't help but pause at the last name Vance. Emmeline was one who'd actually survived through the first time in the Order, and it would truly be tragic for her to lose someone else now, yet she'd wish that fate upon no one, especially not Emmeline's niece or any other member of her family that could apply to.

not to mention the ruckus in the West Country.

The Prime Minister had to confirm some of Fudge's people were involved in those?

"I do like that he didn't automatically blame us, considering he knows of us," Lily said with a small smile.

Fudge fixed the Prime Minister with a rather stern look, stating of course they were, surely he'd realized what was going on?

"Why would he do that? You certainly didn't," Remus snapped.

It was precisely this sort of behavior that made him dislike Fudge's visits so much. He was, after all, the Prime Minister and did not appreciate being made to feel like an ignorant schoolboy. But of course, it had been like this from his very first meeting with Fudge on his very first evening as Prime Minister. He remembered it as though it were yesterday and knew it would haunt him until his dying day.

James knew that feeling all to well, he'd had several of them in the past week alone, since Harry had arrived here a grown man.

He had been standing alone in this very office, savoring the triumph that was his after so many years of dreaming and scheming, when he had heard a cough behind him, just like tonight, and turned to find that ugly little portrait talking to him, announcing that the Minister of Magic was about to arrive and introduce himself.

Naturally, he had thought that the long campaign and the strain of the election had caused him to go mad.

"Naturally," Sirius giggled.

"Actually, I've never thought about this," James still had that interested smile in place. "I knew that the Muggles often reported our news, usually to keep them aware of...well anything majorly bad going on, but it never occurred to me who told them, or how they knew."

"Hooray for answers you never asked," Remus rolled his eyes.

He had been utterly terrified to find a portrait talking to him, though this had been nothing to how he felt when a self-proclaimed wizard had bounced out of the fireplace and shaken his hand. He had remained speechless throughout Fudge's kindly explanation that there were witches and wizards still living in secret all over the world and his reassurances that he was not to bother his head about them as the Ministry of Magic took responsibility for the whole Wizarding community and prevented the non-magical population from getting wind of them. It was, said Fudge, a difficult job that encompassed everything from regulations on responsible use of broomsticks to keeping the dragon population under control (the Prime Minister remembered clutching the desk for support at this point).

"Can't even blame him there," Sirius shook his head in sympathy, he knew he still wanted to duck and cover at the mention of those beasts, imagine that being one of the first things you heard.

Fudge had then patted the shoulder of the still-dumbstruck Prime Minister in a fatherly sort of way.

Harry twitched in agitation, remembering that all to well, and knowing what Fudge would really be like in a matter of years.

He'd concluded this was nothing to worry about, he'd only see Fudge again if something serious was going on,

"He wasn't kidding," Sirius stated with a bleak smile, that turned into a true one when Harry still managed a slight giggle at this never ending joke no matter how much the others groaned in misery.

something that's likely to affect the Muggles. Otherwise, it's live and let live. He even congratulated the man on how well he was taking this, his predecessor had tried to throw Fudge out the window, thinking him a hoax.*

"I'd do it for an entirely different reason, but to each his own," Remus pleasantly informed.

At this, the Prime Minister had found his voice at last. It had been his last, desperate hope this wasn't a joke.

Fudge gently told it wasn't, and proved as much by changing a teacup into a gerbil.

"Honestly the perfect amount of flamboyant," Lily couldn't help but smile, knowing certain others who would have gotten carried away proving what they were saying.

The Marauders had the decency not to bother denying what she was implying.

The Prime Minister watched his teacup chew on the corner of his next speech,

"Please tell me he named it Teacup?" Sirius chuckled.

while demanding why no one before had told him of this?

Fudge laughed at this, and asked, would he be telling anyone?

"He's got him there," James chuckled.

Still chortling, Fudge had thrown some powder into the fireplace, stepped into the emerald flames, and vanished with a whooshing sound.

"Rude," Lily sniffed, wishing he'd stuck around encase the poor man had more questions, but at the same time she could understand anyone not wanting to linger, the Muggle needed a chance to recharge after an encounter like that.

The Prime Minister had stood there, quite motionless, and realized that he would never, as long as he lived, dare mention this encounter to a living soul, for who in the wide world would believe him?

"Another wizard," Sirius said in a duh voice.

"What are the odds he would run into one while sharing this?" Remus rolled his eyes.

The shock had taken a little while to wear off. For a time, he had tried to convince himself that Fudge had indeed been a hallucination brought on by lack of sleep during his grueling election campaign. In a vain attempt to rid himself of all reminders of this uncomfortable encounter, he had given the gerbil to his delighted niece and instructed his private secretary to take down the portrait of the ugly little man who had announced Fudge's arrival. To the Prime Minister's dismay, however, the portrait had proved impossible to remove.

"I wonder how that conversation went," James ruffled his hair curiously, imagining Muggles trying to explain away permanent sticking charms and the like.

When several carpenters, a builder or two, an art historian, and the Chancellor of the Exchequer had all tried unsuccessfully to prise it from the wall,

Lily groaned and grumbled a bit. She wasn't even that high in the Ministry yet and could imagine all the paperwork that would have caused to help smooth those things over, Fudge really should have at least explained that!

the Prime Minister had abandoned the attempt and simply resolved to hope that the thing remained motionless and silent for the rest of his term in office. Occasionally he could have sworn he saw out of the corner of his eye the occupant of the painting yawning, or else scratching his nose; even, once or twice, simply walking out of his frame and leaving nothing but a stretch of muddy-brown canvas behind. However, he had trained himself not to look at the picture very much, and always to tell himself firmly that his eyes were playing tricks on him when anything like this happened.

"That sounds far more like he'd be going mad than anything else," Sirius said in exasperation. He certainly knew the more you tried not to do something the more tempting it became.

Then, three years ago, on a night very like tonight, the Prime Minister had been alone in his office when the portrait had once again announced the imminent arrival of Fudge, who had burst out of the fireplace, sopping wet and in a state of considerable panic. Before the Prime Minister could ask why he was dripping all over the Axminster, Fudge had started ranting about a prison the Prime Minister had never heard of, a man named

Lily paused with some torn expression on her face. It was part tight lipped pain for something, and part long exasperation for an overplayed joke that they didn't understand until Lily spelled out the word,

"Serious" Black,

Sirius at least burst out laughing the Muggle had no clue of what had been going on, but the others couldn't muster up the same. Who knew hearing of Sirius getting out of Azkaban would be the highlight when it came to what his life would hold.

Harry in particular shivered and leaned just a bit closer to his godfather for the reminder he would have been all to happy to forget all over again of the travesty, but Sirius just threw an easy arm around him and happily encouraged Lily to go on like he was hoping more name puns would appear any moment.

Lily admired his optimism even as she wished James would smack him again.

something that sounded like "Hogwarts," and a boy called Harry Potter, none of which made the remotest sense to the Prime Minister.

Harry at least got a smile for that, always enjoying the phenomenon of someone not knowing who he was. Maybe he should spend more time in the Muggle world.

Fudge's explanation about coming from Azkaban was not pleasant, nor the information he shared about Black being a known Muggle killer and planning to rejoin You-Know-Who.

Lily only got that out through heavily gritted teeth, the pain and anger still lingering of all the things surrounding Sirius, and just because he wasn't around to suffer this injustice anymore didn't make that slight any better in this time!

But of course, the man didn't even know who You-Know-Who was.

Remus clucked his tongue in agitation. He'd always found it stupid to refer to Voldemort as that, and this was a prime example of why. That was a ludicrous sentence if ever he'd heard one.

He had gazed hopelessly at the Prime Minister for a moment, then offered some whiskey while he explained.

The Prime Minister rather resented being told to sit down in his own office, let alone offered his own whiskey, but he sat nevertheless. Fudge pulled out his wand, conjured two large glasses full of amber liquid out of thin air, pushed one of them into the Prime Minister's hand, and drew up a chair.

Fudge had talked for more than an hour. At one point, he had refused to say a certain name aloud and wrote it instead on a piece of parchment, which he had thrust into the Prime Minister's whiskey-free hand. When at last Fudge had stood up to leave, the Prime Minister had stood up too.

He tried to paraphrase the whole thing, saying this Lord Vol-

"Honestly though, why the title again?" James snarked rather than thinking about whatever else was shared that night, as if he needed more of a reminder of all Harry went through.

Fudge cut in with a snarled reminder he was to be called He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named!

The Prime Minister corrected himself this He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named was alive.

Fudge said Dumbledore certainly thought so,

"Which will apparently mean nothing in a very short time," Sirius snarled what no one needed reminding of.

but he wasn't dangerous until he had support.

Remus looked a tad interested at this line of thinking on the mans part. He wasn't wrong of course, but also it was a useless statement as a madman would always have power, and therefore would always have those seeking it and therefore support.

so it's Black they ought to be worrying about.

Sirius flinched that Lily could hardly say his name without a bit of a hitch in her throat. It was like that first book all over again, and now his own name would feel as terrible a constant reminder as her own.

He of course couldn't stand for that, so told her, "what's with the tone Lils? I know you worry about me on a constant basis without anyone telling you to."

Her nostrils flared for a moment as she eyed him, but couldn't quite hide a smile either when she snapped, "then stop giving me reasons to you idiot."

He encouraged a warning to be put out before hoping they never had to see each other again,

"You and me both," James snapped.

and vanishing back into the fireplace.

But they had seen each other again. Less than a year later a harassed-looking Fudge had appeared out of thin air in the cabinet room to inform the Prime Minister that there had been a spot of bother at the Kwidditch (or that was what it had sounded like)

Lily's mouth twitched in a smile again, she didn't even need to look up to visualize the four agitated expressions for the butchering of that word.

World Cup and that several Muggles had been "involved," but that the Prime Minister was not to worry, the fact that You-Know-Who's Mark had been seen again meant nothing; Fudge was sure it was an isolated incident, and the Muggle Liaison Office was dealing with all memory modifications as they spoke.

Oh, and because of the Triwizard Tournament, the one tiny detail that they were bringing dragons into the country should be told according to the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical creatures.

"Thank you for summarizing all of my hatred for that year in one sentence, much easier that way," James scowled.

Despite the Prime Minister stuttering in surprise, Fudge merely repeated himself before vanishing again.

Remus couldn't help but snicker just a bit, Fudge really had always been terrible at his job.

The next visit less than two years later was no more pleasant. He stepped out of the fire long enough to announce a mass-breakout from Azkaban before already putting one foot back in to depart,

Lily couldn't help but scowl at bit, this man was just useless.

promising they'd have them rounded up in no time!

"He hadn't even caught the last one yet!" Sirius threw his hands up in the air in exasperation, though he threw his voice like he was trying to mimic this Prime Minister instead to further put on a joke instead of reminding them all of how not funny all of this was.

And before the Prime Minister could shout, Fudge had vanished in a shower of green sparks.

Whatever the press and the opposition might say, the Prime Minister was not a foolish man. It had not escaped his notice that, despite Fudge's assurances at their first meeting, they were now seeing rather a lot of each other, nor that Fudge was becoming more flustered with each visit. Little though he liked to think about the Minister of Magic (or, as he always called Fudge in his head, the Other Minister), the Prime Minister could not help but fear that the next time Fudge appeared it would be with graver news still.

Harry couldn't help a sigh while rubbing at his scar already. It hadn't escaped his notice he'd been involved in every instance Fudge had appeared for, clearly his hope from before was already eradicated, he couldn't even get by in the Muggle world.

The site, therefore, of Fudge stepping out of the fire once more, looking disheveled and fretful and sternly surprised that the Prime Minister did not know exactly why he was there, was about the worst thing that had happened in the course of this extremely gloomy week.

He demanded how he should know anything about the Wizarding community in relation to his concerns-

Fudge cut him off to again point out they were all the same concerns, every instance the Prime Minister was dealing with were all magically done. Even Herbert Chorley was safer with them for now since he was suffering from a poorly done Imperius curse.

The Prime Minister could only bluster in surprise for a moment.

"That poor man," Lily couldn't help but mutter, suddenly seven years old again and having far to much explained to her all at one time.

Fudge took a breath and then parted the news that You-Know-Who was back. He couldn't even properly explain how he was alive, Dumbledore wouldn't explain properly,

"At least it's not just us," Lily grumbled, or Harry, more accurately, but the point still stood.

but for the purposes of this discussion he was walking, talking, and killing.

The Prime Minister did not know what to say to this, but a persistent habit of wishing to appear well-informed on any subject that came up made him cast around for any details he could remember of their previous conversations.

"I really do like him. Muggle or no, can we have him as Minister," James sighed.

He began to ask if

Lily couldn't help but stop and giggle this time before spelling out again the Muggle's misuse of Sirius' name, causing the man to preen and his friends to roll their eyes yet again.

Serious Black was with He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named?

Their amusement died that instant though, this was just something they could never joke about considering all there was to be said on the subject.

Fudge distractedly informed that Black was dead.

Lily's voice hitched hard, she could hardly say the word without flashing back to that dark room, that veil, and this time Sirius was all out of breath right with her.

Turned out they'd been mistaken, he was innocent.

James's lip curled, the vicious comment on the tip of his tongue of how at least he could say that at some point...even when it was too late!

He hadn't been in league with He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named either.

"Headliner news, honestly," Sirius snarked.

Fudge defensively pointed out they'd had fifty eyewitnesses saying otherwise, but the point was he was dead now.

Lily couldn't stop her voice hitching any harder the second time she was forced to say that, it wouldn't get any easier to think of anymore than her own.

Murdered, as a matter of fact.

Harry tensed at his side, his face set with that scary calm expression of just who he owed for this fact.

On Ministry of Magic premises.

"Right under their noses," James stated, keeping himself carefully neutral or he'd start screaming again.

There's going to be an inquiry in fact.

Remus made an annoyed little huffy noise that of course this was what mattered most to Fudge.

To his great surprise, the Prime Minister felt a fleeting stab of pity for Fudge at this point.

"Far more than I'd give him," Sirius huffed.

It was, however, eclipsed almost immediately by a glow of smugness at the thought that, deficient though he himself might be in the area of materializing out of fireplaces, there had never been a murder in any of the government departments under his charge... Not yet, anyway...

Lily couldn't help but stop for just a moment, honestly hoping one of her boys would further that with a joke, but none did. They just couldn't make light of any of this when they kept being reminded of far worse things.

While the Prime Minister surreptitiously touched the wood of his desk, Fudge continued, that Black was by-the-by now.

"The most tragic thing anyone could have said about my life, I was forgotten!" Sirius declared.

He got a real smile for his comment all for himself when he saw Remus and Harry try to glare at him proving otherwise.

The point was they were at war, again reminding of the incidents as facts. The Brockdale Bridge, You-Know-Who had done it in retaliation for Fudge not stepping down for him.

While surely this was not the first time something like this had happened, Lily still froze for the position Fudge had been put in. She couldn't imagine what the right answer to that was, and wished the question on no man.

The Prime Minister was in shock it was his people at fault for that!

"Fault," Remus repeated with a heavy sigh. "Must there always be fault."

Fudge was clearly agitated at this, saying would he have caved to blackmail?

The Prime Minister agreed not, but he would have put all his efforts into catching the blackmailer before it went as far.

"Well sure it's obvious enough to say," James grumped, not nearly as enamored with this Muggle minister anymore. While not as annoying as Fudge, yet, clearly all politicians really were the same, speaking the obvious answer and expecting someone else to do the hard work.

Fudge snapped right back they'd certainly been trying, but he'd already been alluding capture for three decades!

"I mean, he actually was dead for some of that," Sirius did offer, whatever form of not around Harry he was anyways for eleven years.

It was infuriating to discover the reason for all these terrible disasters and not to be able to tell the public, almost worse than it being the government's fault after all.

"Why are we passing this news along to him then?" Sirius huffed. It wasn't doing the man any good.

"I'm confident he was there to deliver the message about Voldemort and got sidetracked into this," Lily reminded.

He asked how the hurricane was involved, and Fudge explained that was no hurricane.

The Prime Minister barked his confusion while nearly stamping in place at this point.

"Thank you for the mental image though," James tried for a smile again, and Sirius was snickering so much in agreement he didn't even make a dog joke.

Fudge impatiently explained it was giant involvement that had ripped apart those houses. They had the whole Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures running around Somerset,

"Good to hear they're actually doing something of use," Sirius muttered, shifting restlessly at mention of that Department and glancing at Remus who still tried to force himself not to flinch at the name.

but it wasn't doing much good. Morale was already even lower with the loss of Amelia Bones.

The name had niggled at something in Harry before, but now he heard the first name he recognized one of the few people at the trial who'd given him a chance. To hear she'd now been lost as well was still yet another blow, as if no decent people had a chance at living through this.

They were under the impression He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named may have murdered her in person, all the evidence was that she put up a real fight.

The bit of Voldemort doing it personally was sadly the only shocking part to them, they'd heard this far to many times in multiples over their time with the Order. It just never made the news easier to hear.

Then there was Emmeline Vance,

Lily felt as if her feet had been knocked out from under her, the room spun crazily for a moment and she had to shake her head hard to keep focus. How was it that every time she pictured all the faces of the Order, another was left out...

maybe he hadn't heard about that one-

Oh yes the Prime Minister had! It had happened around the corner from his office! The press had been having a field day with it happening in his backyard-

"Next time we'll have it done a few dozen blocks away, make it more convenient!" Lily seethed, such anger coming from her words they expected her to spit fire next.

Fudge hardly heard him as he concluded all this mist was because of the dementors attacking everything at every opportunity.

Harry shifted restlessly, clutching his wand tighter to him for a moment as if preparing to throw up a Patronus now at just the thought of those things. He had no want for those to be back in his life, to have Sirius' final words to him play out in his head again, and again...

Once upon a happier time this sentence would have been unintelligible to the Prime Minister, but he was wiser now.

James made a little humming noise, like he wanted to chuckle at that but the mood was still beyond him.

He reminded he'd been told dementors were prisoner guards,

"Credit to the man remembering that so many years later," Remus forcefully tried for a pleasant comment.

Sirius ruined it at once by hissing, "not a conversation easily forgotten."

but Fudge explained they'd deserted the place.

The Prime Minister was in shock, recalling that these things drained happiness!

Fudge agreed that was true, and they were breeding.

Harry gagged in shock, never before having wanted to question how the things came into existence, and no happier to hear an explanation now!

Remus eyed him for a moment but kept details to himself, for once, he could tell Harry wanted to hear none of them.

That's what was causing all this mist.

The Prime Minister sank, weak-kneed, into the nearest chair. The idea of invisible creatures swooping through the towns and countryside, spreading despair and hopelessness in his voters, made him feel quite faint.

"Well that was, almost sweet," Lily muttered, her nails nearly breaking through the page already and having to force her hand to relax. They were only a few pages in and this was already relentlessly depressing!

He demanded that this was Fudge's responsibility as Minister of Magic to do something-

but Fudge cut him off he really thought he still held that position after all this?

Finally, all five of them had a reason to perk up with interest, actual excitement for the prospect of news that didn't create more gloom for them!

He'd been sacked three days ago! The whole Wizarding community has been screaming for his resignation for a fortnight. He'd never known them so united in his whole term of office! Fudge concluded with a brave attempt at a smile.

"The man still has a sense of humor!" Sirius yelped, that was the first bit of good news he'd ever heard about him.

"Wish we'd seen more of that than his blithering ways," James agreed, but quickly waved Lily on to hear of a replacement who hopefully wasn't such a dunderhead.

The Prime Minister was momentarily lost for words. Despite his indignation at the position into which he had been placed, he still rather felt for the shrunken-looking man sitting opposite him.

Remus was saddened at the display of empathy, as if they needed more people understanding the woes of their world.

He'd tried of course to hang on, though Dumbledore had been no help.

"Can't even blame the man," James said scathingly. Even with all Dumbledore had done to them recently, he could still understand being like this to someone at least minorly responsible.

If he'd just been prepared to persuade the boy, he might still be...

Lily's brows shot up in confusion for that, but Harry just shrugged with as much knowledge as anyone for what that could have meant.

Well, maybe Scrimgeour would have more success.

"Finally a man that makes sense." Even at his words James was blinking in mild confusion why Scrimgeour had gotten the job. He was a high end Auror now, not quite as well known as Moody, but certainly none to be trifled with. Yet he'd never seemed one for politics that they'd known of, clearly something had changed though for this kind of step to be taken, not at all a bad thing considering what Harry had been putting up with.

Fudge subsided into what was clearly an aggrieved silence, but it was broken almost immediately by the portrait, which suddenly spoke in its crisp, official voice to announce the arrival of the very man.

Harry's brows ruffled as he picked upon this name that shouldn't be so new to him. Considering his interactions with Fudge, he supposed not feeling black anger for the man was off to a good start, but he wasn't really sure what he felt either.

The Prime Minister distractedly agreed to see him,

"Would he really say no at this point?" Sirius muttered.

and he barely flinched as the flames in the grate turned emerald green again,

"Adapting," Remus tried to say in a chipper tone of voice, but they were already exhausted and wanted this to be done with. They'd had enough of hearing about Ministers already, another arriving wasn't going to give them much heart.

rose up, and revealed a second spinning wizard in their heart, disgorging him moments later onto the antique rug.

The Prime Minister's first, foolish thought was that Rufus Scrimgeour looked rather like an old lion.

That at least gave them a small laugh for such a description arriving, clearly Scrimgeour had gotten on in years more than they'd initially thought.

There were streaks of gray in his mane of tawny hair and his bushy eyebrows; he had keen yellowish eyes behind a pair of wire-rimmed spectacles and a certain rangy, loping grace even though he walked with a slight limp. There was an immediate impression of shrewdness and toughness; the Prime Minister thought he understood why the Wizarding community preferred Scrimgeour to Fudge as a leader in these dangerous times.

"I can't say another solider pushing for firepower will make it better though," Lily argued what she'd said many times in the past few weeks as the change was coming for a new Minister soon.

"Can't hurt either," James disagreed.

The two met eyes with a smile just for each other.

The Prime Minister greeted him politely enough, but Scrimgeour hardly had a care for formalities, at once locking the door and shutting the curtains against the Prime Ministers wishes.

"I don't blame the man needing an escape from these two," Sirius agreed.

His only response was to say he didn't want to be watched, or interrupted.

"Well he certainly makes an impression," James couldn't help but agree with this logic right off the bat.

He began ticking off a mental list it seemed, starting at once that the man needed better security-

The Prime Minister cut in he wasn't getting rid of Kingsley Shacklebolt!

The lot of them snorted in surprise at Kingsley showing up again like this, though it was just a bit more forced than they would have liked...considering his last assignment was no longer needed.

He's highly efficient, gets through twice the work the rest of them-

"Humm, I wonder why," Sirius said dryly, his voice far more high pitched than he'd meant from continued stress watching everyone around him fidget with unease that even a person once associated helping him now doing something else could still so easily upset.

Scrimgeour cut in that was because he was one of their wizards, an Auror and the very protection he'd been speaking of.

"I wonder how often that happens," James muttered without much care for an answer this time. He wasn't surprised when no one knew.

The Prime Minister furiously tried to refuse these people couldn't just place others in his office!

"Bit of a tail chaser this one is," Remus got a half smile for that, this Muggle really had a problem picking a side, but then, who could blame him with who he was dealing with.

Scrimgeour coolly reminded he'd just been defending this, and the Prime Minister lamely had no choice but to admit-

"I can tell how well this relationship's going to go," Sirius snorted.

Scrimgeour just kept plowing on into the topic of Herbert Chorley's poorly done Imperius Curse-

"Clearly," Lily repeated snappily, she already wasn't having to high an opinion for this new Minister, a little sympathy wouldn't kill the man fighting this war.

the Prime Minister tried to defend he was only quacking.

"Not much of a problem at all," Sirius agreed, smiling much easier at a pun he would have loved to insert about barking being much harder to cope with, but Lily wasn't waiting around for it.

Scrimgeour pointed out he'd already tried to strangle three Healers at St. Mungo's, so it was best to keep him where he was sedated.

"Eesh," Harry winced, rubbing at his neck. He'd never thought of Healers having to restrain violent patents and wasn't happy doing so now.

When the Prime Minister asked if he'd be alright, Scrimgeour merely shrugged, already moving back toward the fireplace.

Lily scoffed heavily now with a nasty catch in her throat. How was a lack of caring for the people better than Fudge's lack of caring for the truth?

That was everything, if there was more he'd likely send Fudge along, who had agreed to stay with the Ministry in an advisory capacity.

While none of them carried much for Fudge after all he'd done to Harry, they certainly didn't hate him enough to laugh at this predicament of being demoted like that, it was just insulting the way Scrimgeour put it.

Fudge attempted to smile, but was unsuccessful; he merely looked as though he had a toothache. Scrimgeour was already rummaging in his pocket for the mysterious powder that turned the fire green. The Prime Minister gazed hopelessly at the pair of them for a moment, then the words he had fought to suppress all evening burst from him at last.

They were wizards! Couldn't they solve all of this with a simple wave!

"Ah the ignorance of Muggles," James sighed, twirling his wand around with loaded eyes out the window.

Scrimgeour turned slowly on the spot and exchanged an incredulous look with Fudge, who really did manage a smile this time as he said kindly, that the trouble was, the other side could do magic too.

"What's worse, magic we can't use without turning into them as well," Sirius added on quietly for Harry, who only nodded without surprise. Gone were the days where he was confused at comments like this.

And with that, the two wizards stepped one after the other into the bright green fire and vanished.

"Well that was a terribly depressing way to start," Lily snapped, shoving the book towards James with such force he let out a woof of air when it hit him.

She uttered a genuine apology which he gratefully accepted, kissing her temple before flipping to the next one.

HPHPHPHP

  *Fun fact, the Mayor being spoken to may have been John Major according to the timeline, but the misstep is that the Minister before would have been a she, Maggie Thatcher, making this statement of the previous also being a male clear that JK had no intentions of basing this off of real Muggle Prime Ministers.

[whitehotharlots]

Previewing the 2024 Democrat Primary

Within a couple weeks of his being sworn in, just about every person on earth will wish Joe Biden was no longer president. Sure, the few surviving John B. Anderson voters will be thrilled to see 4 years of crushing austerity and half-assed attempts at Keynesian stimulus. But most people will begin dreaming about a brighter future.

Good news! The 2024 Democratic primary field is going to contain dozens of options. Bad news! They are all going to be disgusting piles of shit. 

The “top tier”

While it’s too early to do any handicapping, these are the candidates the media will treat as having the most realistic chances of securing the nomination. 

Kamala Harris

Kamala did not win a single primary delegate in 2020. This is because she dropped out before the first primary, and that was because no one likes her. She has no base beyond a few thousand of twitter’s most violent psychos. Her disingenuousness approaches John Edwards levels: any halfway incredulous person can see immediately beyond her bullshit. She has no principles whatsoever, and while that may be par for the course for Democrats, she lacks even the basic politician’s ability to intuit anything that might, hypothetically, constitute a principle. 

Even better: she is an awful public speaker. She sounds like how a talking dog would speak if he were just caught stealing people food off the kitchen table. She communicates in weird grunts and faux sassy squeaks, which is how she imagines real black women sound like, but something about her is unable to sell the bit. She begins her sentences in halfhearted AAVE, stops and panics halfway through as she realizes that maybe this sounds fake and offensive, and then reminds herself oh wait, no, this is okay since I’m black. This doesn’t happen once or twice per speech. This is how every single sentence sounds. 

Kamala is like Nancy Pelosi in that no sketch show will ever impersonate her correctly, because anything that came close to authenticity would be considered far too cruel. This might benefit her in the primaries, as she exists in the minds of Democrats as someone and something she absolutely is not in reality. Nominating her would be like allowing your child’s imaginary friend to attempt to drive you to the store. 

Andrew Cuomo

Easily one of the 50 worst people alive, Cuomo has a solid chance because Democrats, same as Republicans, are unable to differentiate between electability and self-serving ruthlessness. Cuomo used the deadliest public health crisis in American history as a pretext for cutting Medicaid and firing 5,000 MTA workers, and his approval rating increased. New York Dems are little piggies who love eating shit. If we assume that the political media will continue their habit of refusing to discuss the legislative history of right wing Democrats, Cuomo might well cruise to the nomination and then lose to literally any human being the GOP nominates by an historic margin. 

Joe Biden

The party loves him because he is a right wing racist. “Progressives” tolerate him because black primary voters over 40 supported him, and their opinion is supposedly a magic window into god’s truth. Everyone else can tell he is manifestly senile. I don’t put it above the DNC to pick a candidate who is in horrible health, dying, or even dead--whatever the financial sector wants, they’ll get. But I would be shocked if his approval rating is above 39% by mid-2023, and by that point deep fake technology will be advanced enough they’ll put out a very lifelike video in which the Max Headroom version of Joe explains he’s proud of his accomplishments--that budget’s almost balanced already--but, man, I gotta abd--I gotta abdica--, uhh, I gotta, I, uhh, I gotta move down, man. 

Wild Cards

These candidates would have all have a chance if they ran, but they could all much more easily retire to Little Saint James off of kickbacks they’ve gotten from Citibank and I.G. Farben. 

Rahm Emanuel

Rahm is going to receive some hugely influential post in the Biden administration. Let’s say he becomes Secretary of Education. His signature achievement will be replacing all elementary school teachers with Amazon’s Alexa, which saved the taxpayers so much money we were able to quadruple the number of armed police officers we put into high schools. This will give him several thousand positive profiles on network news programs and the near-universal support of the Silicon Valley vampires who will own 99% of the country by the time Biden’s term ends. They will use their fancy mind control devices to convince geriatic primary voters that Rahm’s the one who will bring Decency back to the white house. His candidacy will be the paragon of wokeness, as expressing concern toward the fact that he covered up the police murder of a black guy will get you called a racist. 

Rahm has a bonus in that Jewish men are now Schrodeniger’s PoC. When they are decent human beings, they are basic, cis white men who are stealing attention from disabled trans candidates of color. When they love austerity and apartheid, they become the most vulnerable people of color on earth and criticizing them in any way is genocide. No one will be able to mention a single thing Rahm has ever done or said without opening themselves to accusations of antisemitism, and that gives him a strong edge against the rest of the field. The good news is that an Emmanuel candidacy would result in over 50% of black voters choosing the GOP candidate--which, I guess that’s not really good but it would certainly be funny. 

Gavin Newsom

Newsom is every bit as feckless as Cuomo, but he doesn’t put off the same “bad guy in an early Steven Segal movie” vibes. He will mention climate change 50 times per speech and no one will bother to mention how he keeps signing fracking contracts even though his state is now on fire 11 months of the year. If anything, this will be spun into an argument about how he’s actually the candidate best suited to handle all the water refugees gathering on the southern border. Look for his plan to curb emissions by 10% by the year 2150 to get high marks from Sierra Club nerds. He’s also a celebate librarian’s idea of what constitutes a handsome man, so he’ll have some support from the type of women who claim to hate all men. 

Larry Summers

I mean, why not? Larry, like most members of the Obama administration, has politics that are eerily similar to those of Jordan Peterson. In normal circumstances, this makes a person a dangerous fascist who should not be platformed. But if that person has a D next to their name this makes them a realistic pragmatist who has what it takes to bring suburban bankers into our tent. If current trends in Woke Phrenology continue apace, Larry’s belief that women are inherently bad at STEM will be liberal orthodoxy by 2023, and his dedication to the Laffer Curve could see him rake in massive donations. Seriously, I’m not kidding: cultural liberalism is now fully dedicated to identity essentialism and balanced budgets. Larry is their ideal candidate. If he were black and/or a woman, I’d put him in the very top tier. 

Jay Inslee

Unlike Newsom, Inslee’s attempt to crown himself the King of Global Warming won’t be immediately derailed, since his state is only on fire because of protestors. This, however, poses a different problem. He’s going to be a good test case for the Democrat’s uneasy peace with the ever increasing share of the electorate who become catatonic upon hearing a pronoun. On the one hand, you need to take their votes for granted. On the other hand, they’re not like black people or regular gays: most voters actively, consciously despise wokies, and associating yourself with them will ruin a campaign even in deep blue areas. There’s still gonna be riots in a year. Biden’s gonna announce the sale of all our nation’s potable water to the good folks at Nestle and some trans freak named Sasha-Malia DeBalzac is going to use that as an opportunity to sell their new pamphlet about how it’s fascist to not burn down small businesses. No matter what Inslee does in response, it’ll end his career. 

AOC

I’m not one of those “AOC is a secret conservative” weirdos, but I am aware enough of basic reality to know she has zero chance of coming close to the nomination. The right and the center both regard her as a literal demon. The party is already blaming her for the fact that a handful of faceless Reagan acolytes failed to flip their suburban districts even though they ran on sensible pragmatic proposals like euthanizing the homeless. The recriminations will only get more unhinged when the Dems eat shit in the 2022 midterms. She will be a Russian, she will be white male, she will be a communist, she will be a homophobe: any insult or conspiracy theory you can name, MSNBC will spend hours discussing. Her house seat challenger will receive a record amount of support from the DNC in 2024 and it’ll be all she can do to remain in congress.

Larry Hogan

Don’t be dissuaded by the fact that he’s a Republican. Larry is the DNC’s ideal candidate: a physically repulsive conservative who owes his entire career to appealing to the most spiteful desires of suburban white people. He’s an open racist in a material sense--if you’re old-school enough to think racism is a matter of beliefs and actions, rather than the presence of cultural signifiers--but his is the beloved “never Trump” style of racism that Dems covet. He’s also a Proven Leader who thinks the role of government should be to finance the construction of investment property and give police the resources they need to run successful drug trafficking operations. Few people embody the Democrat worldview more than Larry. 

The Losers Bracket

These people will have at least a small chance due solely to the fact that the Democrats love losing. They have lost in the past, and in the Democrat Mind that makes them especially qualified.

Joe Kennedy

The man looks like a mushroom-human hybrid from a JRPG. Trump proved that physical hideousness need not doom a presidential bid, but a candidate still needs some kind of charm or oratorical abilities or, god forbid, a decent platform. Joe aggressively lacks all of these things. A vanity campaign would be a good way to raise money and perhaps secure an MSNBC gig, so Joe might still run. 

Mayor Pete 

I am 100% convinced that Pete’s 2020 run was a CIA plot meant to prevent working class Americans from ever having a chance of living decent lives. I am also 100% aware that Democrats are dumb enough to enthusiastically support a CIA plot meant to prevent working class Americans from ever having a chance of living decent lives. If we have some sort of military or terror disaster between now and 2023 the Dems are sure to want a TROOP, and wait wait wait you’re telling me this one is a gay troop? Holy hell there’s no way that could lose!

Stacy Abrams

Never underestimate the power of white guilt. She lost the gubernatorial race to Gomer Pyle’s grandson, and her spiritual guidance of the Dems saw the party lose black voters in Georgia in 2020. Nonetheless, she is regarded as a magic font of fierceness within the DNC. She might stand a chance if she can establish herself as the most conservative non-white candidate in the field, but there’s going to be stiff competition for that honor.

Elizabeth Warren

Liz is probably angry that the party so shamelessly sold her out even after she was a good little girl and sabatoged Bernie’s campaign for them--yet another example of high ranking US government officials reneging on their promises to the Native American community. Smdh. The fact that this woman hasn’t been bankrupted a dozen times over by various Wallet Inspectors genuinely astounds me. So Liz is probably going to run again, and her campaign will be even sadder the second time around. 

It might surprise you to hear this if you don’t work at a college or NGO, but Liz diehards actually do exist. She’ll get even less support this time because there will be no viable leftist in the field for her to spoil, but she’ll still hang in long enough to make sure the very worst possible candidate beats out the second worst possible candidate. Maybe she’ll fabricate a rape accusation against Sherrod Brown. Maybe she’ll spend her entire allotted debate time doing a land acknowledgment. With Liz, anything is possible--so long as it ends in failure. 

Amy Klobuchar 

Amy was the most bloodthirsty of the 2020 also rans. She will double down on the unpopular failures of the Biden administration, explaining that if you weren’t such a selfish idiot you’d love the higher social security retirement age and oh my god are so such a moron you think you shouldn’t go bankrupt to get a COVID vaccine? There’s a non-unsubstantial segment of the Democratic base that’s self-hating enough to find this appealing, but it won’t be enough to make her viable. 

Martha Coakley

She lost Ted Kennedy’s senate seat to a retarded man who was pretending to be even more retarded than he actually was. Then she lost a gubernatorial race to a guy who openly promised Massachusetts voters that he would punish them for electing him. Her record of failure is unparalleled, making her perhaps the ideal Democrat standard bearer for the twenty twenties. 

[bottomlouisficfest]

The second half of the Bottom Louis Fic Fest is complete! We posted 21 fics since the first masterpost and we know it was a lot to keep up with, so we wanted to compile them all so you can make sure you’ve read every single one of these fics. Please give all of these fics a chance and be sure to give the authors kudos, reblogs, retweets, and comments so they know how appreciated they are. We hope you’ve enjoyed the fest as much as we have!

You can also find the first half of the BLFF fics here, so check out those out as well!

you contain in your eyes the sunset and the dawn

A fic by tomlinvelvet on AO3 | @tomlinvelvet-ao3 on Tumblr

38k | Mature | Louis/Harry | Tumblr post | Twitter post

Louis moaned prettily as he grabbed one of the hybrid's thighs and inched it up, his hand big enough to cover almost the entire of it. When he looked into Louis' eyes, they were practically just black, a pool of lust and tension rendering the baby blue of his eyes intense and rich. And they kept kissing until their lips tickled, until they were sure they would bruise and turn a deep burgundy colour.

"How was I supposed to know?" Harry mumbled in the crook of Louis' neck, letting his tongue and teeth play with the skin there.

"Couldn't you just talk to me?" was Louis' answer, and Harry thought.

He thought of how much time they had wasted because of him. --

Harry Styles was to spend six months at AT&T Inc. of all telecommunications companies in the world, also known as the largest one in its field. This was the biggest deal of his life; it will both improve his expertise in the domain and maybe secure the job of his dreams. There was only one problem standing in the way, and it came in the form of a stunning, irresistible and intimidating cat hybrid of the name Louis Tomlinson. In other words, his boss.

there's more than one place to call home

A fic by rina_a on AO3 | @lougendarey on Tumblr | @lougendarey on Twitter

8k | Explicit | Louis/Harry | Tumblr post | Twitter post

Harry never asked for much from his neighbors - he didn't care about barking animals during the day or loud talking during the night.

The only thing he needed was silence when he was writing. And that was the only thing his new neighbor wouldn't give him.

Deciding to confront the loud guy who lived next door, Harry found himself ringing his doorbell one night. And that decision just may be the best thing that's ever happened to Harry.

(you're gonna see me in a) new light

A fic by thepolourryexpress on AO3 | @thepolourryexpress on Tumblr | @ZOUlSBUSONE on Twitter

13k | Mature | Louis/Harry | Tumblr post | Twitter post

a fake relationship au where everyone knows it's real but louis

Strangers in Love

A fic by sweetums on AO3 | @darlou on Tumblr

42k | Explicit | Louis/Harry | Tumblr post | Twitter post

Louis wakes up to find himself in a marriage with the last man he thought he'd ever end up with.

-

Prompt 51: An amnesia fic where louis and harry were enemies to lovers but after an accident, louis only remembers those memories that him and harry hated each other. now harry has to fix it. I think something like this less dark and less angsty compared to other amnesia fics and it could be funny

My Kingdom for Your Graces

A fic by nsfwtomlinson on AO3 | @nsfwtomlinson on Tumblr

5k | Explicit | Louis/Harry | Tumblr post | Twitter post

Louis wakes up to find himself in a marriage with the last man he thought he'd ever end up with.

-

Prompt 51: An amnesia fic where louis and harry were enemies to lovers but after an accident, louis only remembers those memories that him and harry hated each other. now harry has to fix it. I think something like this less dark and less angsty compared to other amnesia fics and it could be funny

Cooking with Styles

A fic by adoringsmiles on AO3 | @adoringsmiles on Twitter

9k | Explicit | Louis/Harry | Tumblr post | Twitter post

Anyone can cook— or so they say.

UN(RE)SOLVED.

A fic by feermartsant on AO3 | @boldbabe on Tumblr | @babeharrie_ on Twitter

28k | Explicit | Louis/Harry | Tumblr post | Twitter post

The ghoul boys are back, but this time around there are some unresolved feelings involved. Harry is a skeptic, Louis is not. Watch them go on their ongoing investigation into the question: are ghosts real?

Or, BuzzFeed Unsolved AU.

Weightless

A fic by smittenwithlouis on AO3 | @smittenwithlouis on Tumblr | @smittenwlouis on Twitter

25k | Explicit | Louis/Harry | Tumblr post | Twitter post

He hopes that Harry still thinks of him. God knows Louis thinks of him every day.

Or: Harry is the best dragon racer the world has ever seen and Louis is an almost-vet who feels like he is carrying the weight of the world.

Canyon Moon

A fic by delsicle on AO3 | @eeveelou​ on Tumblr | @itsdelsicle on Twitter

40k | Explicit | Louis/Harry | Tumblr post | Twitter post

For as long as Louis has remembered, he has been promised to be mated to Harry, his best friend and the future pack alpha. But Louis’s heart belonged to the forest and to the hunt more than he could ever imagine it belonging to Harry.

Then Harry’s father dies in a violent accident, and Louis’s future alpha disappears on the wind.

An A/B/O Lion King AU

keep it sweet in your memory

A fic by Safetypinprince on AO3 | @roselouis on Tumblr | @brtlyb on Twitter

17k | Explicit | Louis/Harry | Tumblr post | Twitter post

'How'd it go?' Harry pushes them into Niall's room and shuts the door behind him, so Georgia doesn't overhear.

'It was good. We just caught up, mostly... I may have done something a little stupid, though.'

And Niall's eyebrows are in his hairline at that.

'I mean. Okay, so I invited Louis out on Saturday.'

'Saturday? Your--'

'Yes, my bachelor party...' and then Harry has to explain himself, 'I just felt guilty. I think. He was like. Telling me he wanted to hook up.'

'He WHAT!?'

'No. I mean, not with me. Like. He wants to go out and meet people.'

'He'll hate that. He's too much of a romantic.'

'Yeah, well. Whatever his name was messed him up a little, it would seem.'

We Can Go On Forever (When Everything’s Gone Forever)

A fic by jurassiclouis on AO3 | ​@jurassiclouis on Tumblr

39k | Mature | Louis/Harry | Tumblr post | Twitter post

Harry spent most of his adult life focused on either his studies or his books - 5 of which he has already had published before he was 30. Immediately after completing his dissertation, he was offered a lectureship at Cambridge University where he’s been for 2 years now.

This wasn’t the first time in his life that he had felt the incessant itch to know more about a subject by any means. However, this was the first time the subject had been an Omega.

Prompt: Fluff (a/b/o) AU / University History Professor and Kindergarten teacher.

the way the storms blow

A fic by rbbsbb on AO3 | ​@rbbsbb on Tumblr | @deeperthanink on Twitter

21k | Explicit | Louis/Harry | Tumblr post | Twitter post

Louis doesn’t have a habit of thinking about Harry’s dick.

That would be weird, seeing as they’re best mates, and they share a flat, and they’ve spent holidays at each other’s family homes. Their friendship hasn’t ever risen to a point where Louis should want to see his mate’s dick, and he’s happy to keep it that way.

Except, all that Louis can think about is exactly that. The size of it. The shape. The amount of people it’s been in.

Maybe it’s the tequila talking, or the fact that Louis’ just recently walked in to an eyeful of Harry taking turns on some slags that he’s never seen before, but. Louis’ mind can’t stop obsessing over the idea.

“If I Cut Out a Heart...”

A fic by Typosmyown on AO3 | @palosquared​​ on Tumblr

65k | Explicit | Louis/Harry | Tumblr post | Twitter post

Harry Styles is reluctant to assume a role as the owner of a gay strip club. The disappearance of his step-father puts Harry in this position. Along Harry’s path of discovering what happened to his step-father, between the abundant twerking, jigging arse of the club’s star stripper, a mystery deepens. Harry learns of several murders that all tie to his star stripper, Louis, The Tommo Tease.

I Couldn’t Get Away From You

A fic by Once_upon_a_larrie (once_upon_a_larrie) on AO3 | @once-upon-a-larrie28 on Tumblr

5k | Mature | Louis/Harry | Tumblr post | Twitter post

Harry Styles is reluctant to assume a role as the owner of a gay strip club. The disappearance of his step-father puts Harry in this position. Along Harry’s path of discovering what happened to his step-father, between the abundant twerking, jigging arse of the club’s star stripper, a mystery deepens. Harry learns of several murders that all tie to his star stripper, Louis, The Tommo Tease.

Something Wicked This Way Comes

A fic by MuggleMirror on AO3 | @mugglemirror on Tumblr | @archerlouist on Twitter

16k | Explicit | Louis/Harry | Tumblr post | Twitter post

They say one can resist everything but temptation. The desire that leads to the passionate pursuit of climax that has built and broken empires. So what was stopping Harry from giving in to the temptation of Louis Tomlinson?

Or

A regency murder mystery au where Louis is married to an earl and Harry is a detective. Hatchets are buried but not everyone is as they seem.

blue lotus

A fic by thedeathchamber on AO3 | @louehvolution​ on Tumblr

29k | Explicit | Louis/OMC | Tumblr post | Twitter post

After the Second Rebellion and the dismantling of President Cowell’s regime, Louis struggles to make sense of life.

A post-Hunger Games AU

letters from boston

A fic by tilthesundies on AO3 | @tllthesundies​ on Tumblr | @tiIthesundies on Twitter

3k | Explicit | Louis/Harry | Tumblr post | Twitter post

Louis’s standing in the kitchen when he opens the first letter.

Hey,

I used to live in your house. I’m drunk in Boston, and it’s the only address I know.

Happy holidays.

don’t know if i could ever go without

A fic by ifthat on AO3 | @lovehl on Tumblr | @alltheghost on Twitter

14k | Explicit | Louis/Harry | Tumblr post | Twitter post

“We’ve come up with a solid solution. You’re not going to like it.”

“What is it?” Louis narrows his eyes suspiciously, glancing at a visibly enthusiastic Liam.

“What if you pretended to be an Alpha?” Zayn suggests.

Glow, Chrysó Mou

A fic by bluestarwitch on AO3 | @IwtstarIight on Twitter

21k | Not Rated | Louis/Harry | Tumblr post | Twitter post

The sun is the one who braves darkness the most.

The sun isn’t the one who never gets tired.

I’ll Light the Fire

A fic by pinkvinyl on AO3 | @pinkvinyl on Tumblr | @PlNKVINYL on Twitter

7k | Explicit | Louis/Harry | Tumblr post | Twitter post

“Alright, baby, we can do that next time, okay?” Harry says, trying to hide the smile in his voice and moving between Louis’ spread thighs. Harry wishes he had his camera handy so he could snap a photo of the vision in front of him; the way Louis’ caramel skin is contrasting with the white sheets, his eyelashes fanning over his cheeks, and the sun rays bouncing off his back. Fucking gorgeous. Harry runs his hands up the length of Louis’ legs, digging his thumbs into the soft skin on the innermost part of his thighs. He makes a mental note to move his polaroid within arms reach of their bed.

“I might change my mind, that sounds like a lot of wor-, oh god,” Louis gets cut off as Harry licks a broad stripe up his taint to his hole, practically purring into the pillow.

The Space Between

A fic by emma1234 on AO3 | @lads-laddylads on Tumblr | @lads_laddylads on Twitter

40k | Explicit | Louis/Harry | Tumblr post | Twitter post

Harry Styles is the alpha rockstar who can’t sleep and doesn’t know why.

Louis Tomlinson is the omega PhD student who helps him figure it out.

[homeformyheart]

first choice (part 1) - noah harris x mc (mtfl)

author’s note: i wanted to write something where MTFL mc puts herself first rather than getting wrapped up in relationships but still ends up with noah. i hope you enjoy! *heads up: there is a reference to both HSS and ROD :) i couldn’t help myself!

copyright: all characters owned by pixelberry studios. pictures from unsplash. series/pairing: my two first loves - noah harris x mc (emma price) cross-series references: jordan lee, michael harrison, myra khandaar (hss); logan (rod as a movie) rating/warnings: 13+; some teen angst word count: 3.2k summary: after the fiasco at the homecoming dance, emma decides what she really needs to do is focus on herself and figuring out what she wants. and so she transfers to berry high.

read part 2.

first choice (part 1)

emma sat on her bed with her legs crossed and laptop open. she was almost done with her application. all that was left to do was pick her potentially award-winning photograph from the two she had narrowed it down to. she couldn’t help but smile at the memories associated with each picture, back when things were definitely more exciting and drama-filled.

12 weeks earlier

mason parked outside emma’s house. the lights were on, so emma knew she only had a few minutes before her dad would inevitably walk outside and see she was sitting in a car alone with a boy. she felt like she was on an emotional rollercoaster and bit her lip in an attempt to stop herself from just breaking down into tears.

“you keep saying nothing’s changed, but everything changed when you started dating ava and when she needed to come first instead of me. i deserve to find happiness for myself too,” emma said, blinking rapidly to hold back tears.

“and you think that’s going to be with noah? he’s not a good person,” mason replied, the grip on his steering wheel tightening so much that emma could see the vein bulge on his right hand.

the part of her that was in love with mason desperately clung on to his words and attempted to convince herself it was jealousy, that mason wasn’t in love with ava and wanted to be with her. but the part of her that always tried to be rational scolded her instead to accept that mason had always seen her as a sister and was just being protective.

“noah’s been good to me and that should be enough. you don’t get a say in who i date, mason. not since you and ava started dating without giving me a heads up,” emma said after a moment and opened the car door.

8 weeks earlier

dave price read the piece of paper in his trembling hands, and then re-read it again. he read it a third time, just to make sure his understanding was correct. the words “accepted,” “transfer,” and “welcome” kept swirling around and he finally looked up from the paper to his daughter who was wringing her hands nervously and biting her lip.

“i just don’t understand why, or how, or when…?” he trailed off, looking back down at the paper again.

emma inwardly reminded herself it was too early to celebrate even though her dad’s initial reaction to the news was much better than expected. she would take confused over angry any day. she moved to sit down on the living room couch, motioning for her dad to sit down next to her. she grabbed the photo binder sitting on the coffee table and handed it to her dad.

“i realized that i haven’t really been thinking about my future or what i want to do after high school. i’ve been so focused on following in mom’s footsteps with cheerleading that i’ve ignored things i could be passionate about, things that make me my own person,” she started slowly, watching her dad’s face closely as he flipped through the binders.

“until recently, i forgot how much i love photography. after mom died, it was too painful to think about. i helped take some yearbook photos earlier this year and realized how much i missed it. i don’t want to cheer anymore, but i do want to pursue photography. eastridge doesn’t have a great arts curriculum but berry high does,” emma started talking more animatedly about the arts programs at berry high and the how arts are integrated with extracurriculars and school activities. mr. price looked on at emma, stunned. he couldn’t remember a time since his wife died where emma was this excited.

mr. price looked back down at the acceptance letter in his hand. emma continued softly, “i just looked into their transfer requirements to see if they would accept my credits and let me join the arts program. i think this could be the fresh start i need to figure out my own path.”

“your mother wanted to do the same thing when she was your age. and these photos are absolutely beautiful, emma. you have a real talent. go ahead and transfer,” mr. price said, giving his daughter a hug.

4 weeks earlier

every time he heard the bell that signaled someone opened the door to the diner, mason looked up, tense. and every time it wasn’t emma, his gaze dropped and he tried to take a deep breath. when it finally was emma, his gaze searched her face for some sort of clue as to how she was feeling.

emma could feel mason’s eyes on her as soon as she walked into the diner. she walked over to the booth before sitting down across from him, pausing for a moment to take in his appearance. a purple bruise had formed on his cheek and there were bags under his eyes, like he hadn’t slept the last couple of days. to be fair, emma hadn’t really slept much since the homecoming dance either. regardless, mason looked as gorgeous as ever in his gray sweater, which brought out the blue of his eyes that emma had loved staring into for as long as she could remember.

mason nervously cleared his throat. “thanks for coming, emma. i’m really sorry for what happened at the dance,” he said, taking emma’s hand with both of his on top of the table. “i didn’t mean to hurt you.”

“what are you sorry for, mason? crashing my date twice or getting into a fight with noah twice in one night?” emma asked sarcastically. mason flinched slightly at her tone. “you weren’t interested in me until after i started hanging out with noah. what happened between the two of you?” emma said.

mason dropped his gaze and stroked the back of her hand with his thumb. “that’s not true, em. i’ve had a crush on you for a long time, i just wasn’t sure if you’d ever see me as more than just your best friend and i spent all summer trying to forget my feelings so i wouldn’t ruin our friendship. as for noah, it’s… complicated.”

“is that all you have to say?” emma pulled her hand out of mason’s grasp and crossed her arms over her chest.

“is this because of noah? if he hadn’t come back this year, we wouldn’t be having this conversation. this is not how i imagined senior year going with you,” mason said, his tone bitter and defensive.

emma’s eyes narrowed. “this has nothing to do with noah. you want to talk about how senior year was supposed to go? let me tell you how i imagined it. in wisconsin, i promised myself i would be honest with you about my feelings for you when i got back. and i stupidly hoped that something would change for the better and i was looking forward to senior year. instead, i find out that you decided to date my other best friend without telling me. do you know how much it sucks to be away from your best friends for months having a miserable time and then come back to what feels like the worst news since my mom died?”

emma unfolded her arms, her shoulders sagging in defeat before continuing, “the decent thing would’ve been to give me a heads up about you and ava before school started. finding out about the two of you in the parking lot on the first day is forever ingrained in my mind as the moment everything changed between us, and not in a good way. i was heartbroken and it felt like i lost the relationships i had with both of you at the same time. noah was a friend to me through all of that and was there for me all the times you weren’t this year.”

mason at least had the decency to look ashamed. “i’m sorry, emma. i’m not proud of how i handled my relationship with ava. but i broke up with her once i realized i might have a real chance with you, that you might actually feel the same way i do. i’m not sorry about taking a chance on that.”

emma let out a long sigh. even though it was everything she had wanted to hear from mason for the longest time, she was too emotionally exhausted to feel anything other than tired right then. “well, your timing sucked. i’ve been doing a lot of thinking and i realized something. since my mom died, i don’t think i cared to focus on what i wanted for once.” emma could see that mason was about to interrupt and raised a hand to stop him. “i don’t want to be an accessory to the story of your history with noah or your relationship with ava. i’m taking senior year into my own hands and changing what i can.”

mason’s eyebrows furrowed in thought. “what are you saying, em?”

“i’m didn’t come here to argue with you about homecoming or noah or ava. i came to say goodbye,” emma said, looking up from her hands to take in mason’s eyes that had just widened. “i’m transferring to another school starting next quarter. and i don’t think we should hang out for a while. maybe some time apart will help us figure out how to be just best friends again.”

2 weeks earlier

emma was already feeling more at home at berry high than she ever did at eastridge. it was only a couple of weeks but she already made a few friends. the yearbook editor-in-chief, jordan lee, who hadn’t given up trying to get her to join the cheerleading squad for winter quarter, band vice president myra, who wanted to hear all about her relationship drama at eastridge and set her up with someone at berry, and jordan’s boyfriend, michael, who had also been a huge help in helping her get up to speed on her photography skills. he was more into videography but some technical components like framing a shot and managing the lighting were things emma hadn’t really considered before. they both also made sure to introduce her to their friends and it was nice to be around people who created a supportive, rather than toxic, environment.

mason still came by at 7am every weekend for their jogs, but emma had started leaving at 6:30am so they wouldn’t cross paths. she meant what she said about not seeing him for a while and kept her replies to his texts short. it hurt and she missed her best friend, but it also meant she had more time to catch up on her photography and painting skills. and it’s not like she wasn’t busy. she was helping to paint the sets for the fall play and jordan’s friends dragged her to berry high’s football games every weekend.

noah was waiting by his bike in front of her house after school one day. they still texted even after she told him she was transferring but hadn’t really seen each other. to be honest, emma was kind of avoiding him after what happened at homecoming.

noah’s face was stoic as she approached but she thought she saw a flicker of emotion in his eyes. “can we talk?”

emma nodded. he drove them to the hill overlooking the city and they talked for a while about what happened at homecoming and everything that had happened at eastridge since she transferred. eventually, the conversation circled back to the one topic emma had been avoiding… “them.”

1 week earlier

“so, who are you going to be rooting for?” myra asked, earnestly. “hello? earth to price?”

emma’s gaze snapped up. “oh sorry, i don’t know yet. i’d be fine sitting with berry high but…”

“but mr. tall, dark, and brooding is playing for eastridge and wants to see you in his letterman jacket,” jordan teased, nudging emma’s shoulder playfully.

“oh my god this is just like a romantic movie…” myra stared off dreamily as emma hastily excused herself.

the game would be starting soon and emma had a decision to make. she stood in front of her locker, staring at the red and cream colored eastridge letterman jacket with the number 17 and thought back to the conversation she had with noah a week ago.

“i don’t want to wait around for someone who doesn’t want to be with me. i deserve to be someone’s first choice,” noah said, softly. he had taken her to his favorite hill and they were sitting side-by-side on a blanket he had brought.

emma fought the urge to scoot closer to him and lean into his shoulder. “i really like you noah, but there’s a lot i still don’t know about you and this beef you have with mason is concerning. i don’t want to get hurt.”

noah lifted her chin so she was looking him in the eyes. “i promise i’ll tell you what you want to know soon. and to be honest, you’re more likely to end up hurting me when you realize you’re better off without me.”

emma folded her arms over her chest. “i know how this story ends, noah. i saw ride or die last year. you would totally pull a logan and end things because you’re ‘looking out for me’ and that would just… really hurt.”

noah just smiled. “good to know you’re team logan. i promise, i’m all in. no more secrets, no more running.”

the bell signaling the end of the school day jolted emma out of her thoughts. he had handed his jacket to her and said she had a choice. she could wear it to the berry/eastridge game and cheer for him or she could give it back to him at the end of the game. either way, he would respect her decision. and as much as emma wished it wasn’t, it was decision time.

she grabbed the jacket and tied it around her waist before heading out to meet michael at the football field. she was helping him film the game from the sidelines, while taking photos for the yearbook as well. it wasn’t long before the stands were full, the cheerleaders from both schools were in formation, and the game was underway.

both teams were evenly matched and emma was furiously clicking away to get as many notable shots as possible from every angle around the field. she realized she was capturing moments for both schools, except her shots of eastridge were centered around a certain quarterback, who was calling plays and scoring touchdowns himself, running as though an angry mob with pitchforks was coming after him and his life depended on his ability to stay at least ten feet ahead of them. to be fair, it was football, so he was definitely being chased. eastridge was down by six points with the ball on their 30-yard line and one minute left in the fourth quarter. the game was pretty much over.

eastridge called a timeout and all the players came off the field. emma started reviewing the photos she had taken so far, making a mental note of which ones to review on a computer later when a shadow suddenly appeared overhead, blocking out the sun. she lifted her head slowly to find noah towering over her, with his sexy trademark smirk.

his eyes twinkled mischievously and emma felt the weight at her waist disappear and looked down to see that he had untied the jacket. he held it behind her without breaking eye contact. emma swallowed and put her hands inside the sleeves as noah pulled the jacket forward so it enveloped her berry high shirt.

“if i remember correctly, i asked you to make sure i could see you wearing the jacket,” he murmured, leaning in by her ear.

emma blushed. “well, you know, i’m supposed to be taking pictures for berry high and well—” she was quickly interrupted by a searing kiss, followed by another, and another that left her slightly dizzy and out of breath.

“does this mean you’re all in?” he asked quietly after pulling away. his smirk was still there but emma could see the vulnerability in his eyes.

she smiled brightly and nodded. she realized she had known all along what she wanted and was finally ready to admit it. “you’re my first choice, noah.”

“good. i’ll see you after the game then, babe.” noah winked and jogged off to join his teammates. emma took a quick picture of the eastridge team huddle with the number 17 front and center to try to calm herself down.

present day

the two photos in front of her were so different from each other that she wasn’t sure how she could pick just one for her submission. they were both from the day of the berry high/eastridge football game, when noah became her boyfriend.

even emma was amazed at the clarity of the first photo, which perfectly captured the exact moment noah made a game-winning touchdown. emma remembered it happening as if it were in slow motion, and her fingers moved over the shutter of their own accord. with less than a minute left, noah picked up the fumbled ball that fell from his receiver and ran over 50 yards, dodging defenders left and right to get to the goal line. emma had captured the exact moment he leaped over a berry high defender to score the final touchdown that brought eastridge a win after being down six points. the best part was that even though she was standing at least 15 feet away, and the football team had pulled him into a mob and were trying to raise him up, emma could tell that noah was looking at her and she somehow just knew that he had scored that goal for her.

the second photo was less action-packed but just as, if not more, sentimental to emma. it was later that evening, when he took her to his favorite hill and held emma close, with her head resting on his chest. it was their first date since becoming boyfriend and girlfriend and emma thought that night was very poetic in a way. they were looking up at the stars in the sky, perfectly framed by the peaks of the surrounding trees and she couldn’t help but take a picture. she wanted to remember that moment forever. she remembered noah telling her about his parents’ first date being under the stars and was reminded of how the stars were part of her own parents’ love story. now it was part of theirs.

emma really had no clue how she was supposed to pick one. so she picked up the phone.

“hi babe.” emma heard noah’s husky (not to mention sexy) voice after two rings and blushed immediately.

“i am never going to get tired of hearing that and i can’t believe i get to call you my boyfriend,” emma sighed happily. “but i’m calling because i can’t decide which photo i want to submit to the contest,”

“i’ll be right there.” emma put her phone down and laid out the two photos and accompanying write-ups to both out on her bed while she waited.

* * * * * mentions: @khoicesbyk​; @nyastarlight​; @chetachisblog​; @robintora​;​ @shows-simp-card​;

[penig]

The only reason we didn't flip last time is we're gerrymandered to hell and gone.

My own county has been blue for a long time. Every day I go out I pass dozens of yard signs - so far this year there is one sign for the traitor. Sometimes GOP names crop up in a yard full of Democrats, but always in conjunction with other words like "Mothers Against Greg Abbot" and "Lose the Cruz." Although too many signs first-name Harris, one of them on the south side calls her "La Kamala," and I can live with that. (i.e., she is The Kamala.)

We get enough people to the polls, count on it, Texas will be blue from top to bottom.

But it's gonna take a lot of people, 'cause those districts are whack.

Early-voting turnout in Texas is off to a hot start. 🔥 More than 840,000 people have cast their ballots in person statewide, almost 100,000 more than 2020!

On top of that, the number of registered voters in Texas grew more than 10% between 2020 and 2024.

What are you waiting for? 🤠 Make your plan to vote and go #VoteEarly at WeAll.Vote/voterhub.

📹 : eureka.dawn.lmti