Once is chance, twice is a coincidence, three times usually means someone’s trying to kill him.
“What are you doing?”
Draco turns toward the sounds of his voice and scowls. “Potter, I would have thought this level of stalking to be beneath you.”
“I’m not stalking you! You’re stalking me, if anything, because this isn’t even your world.” Draco doesn’t so much a flinch, and Harry’s shoulders slump. “Where did you even get that anyway?”
“I stole it,” he says, and Harry’s barely had the time to get outraged when he rolls his eyes, “I bought it, obviously. With money. You know what that is, don’t you?”
“Shut up,” he answers, and then, “How do you even know how to ride that thing?”
Draco shifts his weight, circling Harry on his skateboard, as comfortable as if he’d been walking. “Please, like it’s hard. You could probably even do it.” He’s dressed like a muggle again, ridiculously tight jeans and trainers and a dark green t shirt that Harry’s pretty sure could stand to be a size or two larger. The sleeves cut into his biceps in a way that can’t be necessary. “Want to try?”
Harry had been so busy staring at Draco he hadn’t noticed when he got close. “What?
“I’m headed to the skate park,” he says, “It will be a lot easier for you to continue following me if you can manage to not fall off a skateboard.”
“I’m not following you,” he says, then immediately follows it up with, “Yeah, sure, okay.”
It seems like this summer is getting away from him, maybe.
my problem with the ‘harry becomes lord of 2/¾/5 ancient noble houses’ trope is so unbelievably petty because its that fic writers don’t take it to the potential extreme. like, okay, you wanna make harry the bossest of bitches i get that, i understand, i have that urge too from time to time, but c’mon, be a little more creative about it please
so how about a fic where harry goes to gringotts after the fighting is all over to try to make peace with the goblin nation because this boy does not need more problems and after much hostility and some groveling and promises of future payments for damages caused a plucky goblin lass comes and shuffles harry into her tiny cube office to discuss the nature of his financial situation
(this is a grave insult among goblins. getting handled by a female, first of all, because they are supposedly less capable bankers, hello misogyny among other species, and because they consider anyone who needs help with his money to be lower than cave scum. harry doesn’t know about his. and if he did, he wouldn’t care because he does, desperately, need help)
and plucky goblin lass (who we will call PGL for short) brings out this MASSIVE tome of parchment and slams it down on her desk. a cloud of dust rises. harry sneezes and gets a terrible feeling. some of the parchment is mildewing. the stack is taller than his hand is wide. this can only end badly
PGL tells him that he’ll need to read the entire book to fully comprehend the new scope of his property and harry kind of weakly says “what??”
and it turns out that heyo, when the death eaters swore to follow voldemort with all their lives and souls and magic in their little racist hearts they actually swore a modified liege lord oath which also has the coincidental side effect of ceding all titles (and property connected to said titles) held to the lord in question too. haha how funny who knew
and that’s an ongoing thing. so voldemort was the de facto head of two dozen magical houses at the beginning of the war and he just picked up more as he gained more followers and he probably could have just voted himself and his crew into every position of the government and run the country like that if he cared to do it but voldemort was not about dat political life. he wanted change and he wanted it now. he wanted to MAKE AMERICA MAGICAL BRITAIN GREAT AGAIN. so he started a civil war and just never informed his loyal death eaters of that little fact because they didn’t need to know.
and you might think that gringotts vaults are tied into bloodlines but they’re really not. the malfoy family vault belongs to whoever is the current head of the malfoy family. normally, that’s a malfoy and his malfoy spawn becomes the next head and so it passes through the family, accumulating inherited wealth. it was a working system until voldemort got involved and exploited the ever-living hell out of it.
now this all becomes harry’s problem because it turns out that Right of Conquest is an actual thing. what was voldemort’s is now his and voldemort has has the time to accumulate A Metric Fuck Ton of stuff.
also connected to titles are votes in the wizengamot. and whoo boy, this is where harry’s problem becomes really really really problematic. because the noble families squabble over those votes like children, hoarding them and passing them down, occasionally trading them for advantageous marriages and such, but mostly jealously guarding them like the politcal gold they are. it’s such a bitterly tight-fisted market that any one family has ~maybe~ three or four votes.
and now harry bloody potter has a hundred of the things and a completely unintentional stranglehold on the government. whoops
and then hermione would shotput harry straight into the
wizengamot
against his protests and things would become so hilarious i just
some jerkass attempts to increase his own salary for doing basically nothing
“how about no,” harry and his hundred votes say.
somebody attempts to tighten restrictions on where magical creatures like vampires and werewolves can work
“how about no.” harry crosses his arms. “actually, how about we repeal those bullshit laws already in place that make it almost impossible for werewolves to get a job right now, hmmmm? and how about we put something in place to catch abusive owners of house elves? and make sure they get paid? and vacation days? and healthcare? actually how about we get healthcare for EVERYBODY HOW ABOUT T H A T?”
ten generations of purebloods cry out in horror. look upon him ye mighty and despair.
the years after voldemort’s defeat don’t go down in history as The Golden Era. in fact, thanks to harry bloody potter (and some incessant nudging by hermione granger), they go down as The Decade of Frankly Astonishing Strides Toward Equality *cough* enforced by a semi-plutocracy.
(all thanks to a third tier plot never really explored by a would-be dictator YOU’RE ALL WELCOME)
wednesday is at the local library with her father, searching the shelves for a book uncle fester told her about dangerous animals in south america. Gomez strikes up a conversation with the elderly librarian mrs. phelps to help wednesday find what they are looking for.
“That one? Or, Mr. Addams – I’m afraid it’s been checked out.”
a squeaky wheel catches wednesday’s attention, and right past her walks a girl with an ENTIRE red-rocket wagon topped full of books. the girl carefully looks over each book and drops them carefully into the book-return
that’s when wednesday sees it – the book she’s been looking for.
wednesday walked slowly up to the girl’s wagon, and touched the cover.
“I just finished that one,” the girl says. wednesday straightens up. “It has a fascinating chapter on the red-bellied piranhas of South America.”
“We’re looking at getting one for Pugsley’s tank,” wednesday says.
“A piranha? It will eat your fish,” she said.
“I’m counting on it.”
“Is Pugsley your fish?”
“My brother.” Wednesday replied.
The girl thought a moment. “You’ll need at least a dozen – they hunt best in schools.”
wednesday just barely smiled, a single corner of her lips turning up. “I’m wednesday addams.” she said, extending a hand.
“Matilda,” the girl replied, shaking her hand. “Matilda Wormwood.”
I think the best part about this is that the Addams would adore her and just shower her with love.
“Wormwood,” says Gomez, enchanted. “What a lovely name.“
ME, A NORMAL CONTRIBUTOR TO FANDOM: So let’s talk about the pedagogical implications Thanos’s snap would have on the Sesame Street curriculum within the greater MCU.
I don’t know how pedagogical it is, but I guess now I’m thinking about Bert sitting alone in a room, missing Ernie.
That is absolutely the emotional core of what a post-Snap episode of Sesame Street would be about (I feel like Bernice would be missing too, and Bert would try to play chess with Rubber Duckie?), but for the episode to function there needs to be something they’re teaching the audience besides ennui, and that is where I’m really stuck.
Because the emotional core wouldn’t stick if it’s not supported by the structure of the show! But it seems like the Snap destroys basically all structures in place. But that makes the structure of Sesame Street that much more necessary. And then I spiral like this for a while.
Disclaimer: I have not watched a full episode of Sesame Street in a long time
Big Bird has been waiting for the store to open for a very long time now. He’s a patient bird, and he knows about waiting his turn, but his watch has the big hand on the three and the little hand on the nine and he’s pretty sure that Alan usually open the store when the little hand is on the seven.
Finally, when the little hand goes all the way to the four, the door opens.
“Hi, Big Bird,” Chris says, his eyes red and puffy. “We aren’t going to open the store today.”
Big Bird doesn’t understand; Hooper’s store opens every day. “Why aren’t you opening the store, Chris?” Big Bird asks. “I need beakpaste, I’m all out.”
Chris just looks sad. “Big Bird, did you hear about The Snap?”
“No,” Big Bird says, and the way Chris is talking is very scary. He feels like he might need to sit down. “I don’t even know how to snap!”
Chris steps out form behind the door and gestures for them to sit on the stoop. When they’re settled, Chris takes a deep breath before he speaks. “Well, a bad man named Thanos came to Earth. Do you know about Thanos?”
“Yes,” Big Bird nods He heard some of the grownups saying that name. “He fought with the Avengers.”
“That’s right,” Chris says. “And the Avengers lost their fight. Sometimes, even when grownups try really hard, they can’t do all the things they want to do, and sometimes that means that bad things happen.”
“Did a bad thing happen?”
“Yes,” Chris says, taking Big Bird’s wing in his hand. “Because of Thanos, a lot of people are missing. And Alan is one of them.”
Big Bird has to think about that for a moment. He went missing one time, when he was a blue bird in a circus, but his friends found him and brought him home. But something about Alan’s face tells Big Bird that this isn’t the kind of missing where your friends can find you.
“Is Alan dead, Chris?” Big Bird asks. “I remember when Mr. Hooper died.”
“The honest answer is that we don’t know. He might be. Or he might just be missing.”
Big Bird tries to understand that. “Missing?”
“Yeah,” Chris says. “He might come back some day, and he might not. We just don’t know.”
Big Bird wants to cry. He loves Alan, and he doesn’t want any of his friends to be missing. “Is anyone else missing?”
“Yes,” Chris says. “Some of your friends may be, or their parents, or yours cousins and uncles and aunts. A lot of people are. And it’s very scary.”
“What can we do?”
Chris is crying a little, a few small tears pooling at the side of his eyes, and Big Bird wants to do something, wants to say something, but he kinda feels like crying too, and doesn’t know what will help. “I don’t know,” Chris says. “I think the only thing we can do is be here for each other, and love each other, and take care of each other. When things are scary, and when bad things happen, the most important thing to do is look around at the people who are still here, and try to do your best for them.”
Big Bird nods. “Hey Chris?”
“Yeah, Big Bird?”
“Do you want a hug?”
Chris nods. “I would very much like a hug, thank you.”
Big Bird does the only thing he knows how to do; he opens his wings and wraps them around Chris, doing his best to be there for the people who are still with him.
Hey, quick question, WHAT THE FUCK WHY WOULD YOU DO THAT OH MY GOOOOOOOOODDDDDDDDDDDDDD
a colouring practice that kind of. went out of hand. heres the sam/bucky coffee shop au that no one asked for because i had a frappe today and it was delicious
and it’s… fine. The prince is great! They’re in love, he’s very sweet and passionate, writing her poems and songs, giving her anything she wants. The time she spends with her husband is great.
but cinderella is not royalty, her family was noble but she never spent time in those circles. She’s used to being busy, she’s used to cooking and cleaning and mending. There are hours, days, where she has nothing to do.
time passes. cinderella learns the fancy lady type of needlework. Learns to ride horses. Reads a lot.
as is normal for royalty at the time, they travel and are hosted by nobles or stay at castles owned by the king. But even that variety begins to become routine. The prince is distracted, there’s a lot of young women living and working on their route. Daughters of nobles. Younger and prettier with soft hands that have never done a day’s work.
cinderella needs something to spend her time on, and there’s a part of her thinking a couple-only trip might get her husband’s attention again, so she suggests making an old castle that’s fallen into disrepair their “project.” It was built in the time when castles were made to be defensible, so it’s quite sturdy, but it’s overgrown and secluded. The prince doesn’t know why his family stopped living there either. A hundred years ago it was their summer home.
so they go. And they work. And for a while it’s great! But when they leave for winter cinderella’s husband forgets her once again. cinderella resolves to make the best of her life and stop worrying about a man who has gotten what he wanted from her.
summer comes again and this time cinderella goes alone to the old castle (minus staff, of course, but cinderella manages to narrow it down to only repair workers and one maid). She can cook and clean and mend again, but this time it’s her own choice. She is happy.
this summer they make more progress on repairs. The workers say that most of it can be salvaged, except one tower that’s been completely overgrown with vines and briars. It will have to come down, eventually, but for now it can be safely ignored.
cinderella has more free time now. The old castle has a surprisingly untouched library, though time and moisture have damaged many of the books. Behind a collection of greek poetry cinderella finds an old diary. Very old, in fact, at least a hundred years. It’s rude to read a diary, of course, but whoever wrote this is long dead, and cinderella is bored, so…
from the description of activities the author looks to have been nobility. Maybe even a princess. She’s sensitive and sweet and smarter than she seems to realize. If circumstances had been different cinderella wishes they could have been friends…
after the summer ends cinderella returns to her husband. He’s spending a lot of time with a young musician and cinderella can’t even work up the energy to care. She does some research about the castle and the family she’s married into, finds out the name of the princess who wrote the diary.
aurora. Cursed and forgotten. She died young, they say, in a plague that also took out the castle staff and her own parents. Luckily they avoided a succession crisis, but not so lucky for the dead.
time passes. cinderella goes to the old castle again and again, even out of season. Soon enough all that remains to be done is the old tower, and the builders say they should tear it down and fill the gaps before it gets cold.
one night cinderella is restless. The princess from the diary had been fond of that tower, and cinderella is far more attached to a dead woman than she ought to be. She gets out of bed, reads by candlelight, and finally goes to walk the empty halls.
she finds herself going to the tower. Pushing past the vines that don’t seem so troublesome really. They almost part before her. The stairs are perfectly intact, the door at the top is already cracked open. As if she should have done this years ago, cinderella steps into aurora’s bedroom.
she’s as beautiful as the stories say. And sitting under her hands, crossed across her stomach as it rises and falls, is a book of greek poetry.
years later, people will tell the story of cinderella as a cautionary one. Don’t seek above your station. Don’t marry for prestige. After all, a girl who grew up as a servant once married the crown prince, and disappeared after only three years. She ran away, they say, she couldn’t handle the lifestyle.
two old women who run a bookshop together agree with the lesson. Marrying for the wrong reasons never ends well. It’s best to wait for someone you have things in common with, shared interests.
or, failing that, the more linguistic of the two says, wait a decade or ten for someone to fall in love with you from your diary.
her partner laughs and hits her with the socks she is mending.
wupacing 