Tag: yess good

If Harry had gotten a less conventional, but more loving adoptive family…

emeraldbirdcollector:

Dear
Minerva,

Thank
you so much for your kind letter of the 17th. It is always a pleasure
to hear from you. I do appreciate your waiving the rules about
familiars to allow Wednesday to bring little Homer – she dotes on
that spider, and I don’t think she could consider Hogwarts home
without his company.

We
were delighted but completely unsurprised by the children’s Sorting.
Of course Wednesday is a Ravenclaw – she has always had a brilliant
mind, and it is rather traditional for the women in our
family. Slytherin might have been a possibility, with her cleverness
and ambition, but sadly (and quietly, between friends) I must admit
the wrong sort have rather taken over that House at the moment. Death
Eaters are so vulgar. Gomez, naturally, is over the moon about
our little Harry being a fellow Gryffindor – the world does need more
dashing, brave, and reckless men. They make life so interesting for
the rest of us, don’t you agree? And I am certain he will be safe
under your care, after his rather difficult start in life, poor
child. That aunt and uncle of his are just too terribly common to
protect him adequately – I am grateful Albus saw sense and left him
with us rather than her.

I
appreciate your bringing to my attention the small difficulty between
Harry and Draco – I shall have a word with Narcissa. (Lucius is still
being terribly silly about that little peacock incident, and refuses
to speak to Gomez at all. Men can be so ridiculously proud. And they
really did look so much better in black.) Really, though, Harry was
only defending his friend. I probably should warn you that Wednesday
writes that she is teaching young Longbottom a few of her more subtle
defenses – I sincerely doubt Draco will trouble him in future if he
uses those. I assure you, none of them cause permanent damage, only
temporary discomfort, and she is well aware that they are only for
self-defense, not mere childish aggression. Addamses do not start
fights, but we do finish them, and Wednesday has always looked out
for her brothers.

At
least that little incident allowed you to see Harry’s flying skills
in time to recruit him for the Quidditch team. I think he shall be an
excellent Seeker – he was always the best at bat-spotting on summer
evenings, and then there was the time he “borrowed” Gomez’s
broom to rescue Pugsley’s pet octopus Aristotle, who had developed an
unaccountable taste for tree-climbing, but had neglected to learn how
to climb down. It was a successful rescue, even though he was mildly hampered on his descent by Aristotle clinging to his face in terror.

Please
send my apologies to Severus for that unfortunate incident in Potions
class. I should have warned him that Wednesday was experimenting
with, shall we say, some variant recipes. I am quite certain,
however, that Miss Parkinson’s hair will grow back normally, and that
the snakes are only a temporary embellishment.

My
best regards, and do drop by for tea if you ever happen to be in the
neighborhood. Thing has perfected your favorite shortbread recipe – I
do believe he has a little crush on you. Or perhaps it is merely that
you are the only visitor we have had, outside of family, who is
sensible enough to shake hands with him without flinching.

Yours
truly,

Morticia
Addams

schandbringer:

A routine, a routine

Commission for an anonymous person who asked for Jazz and Prowl having some post-work fun! Ahh this was fun to do and I think it helped me to get back into the swing of things, thank you so much for commissioning me, I really hope you like it!!

verseblack:

So I know we’re all  convinced that “The Shape of Water is going to end with all of us sobbing enough tears to allow the fish creature to swim comfortably through the theater.  But I started wondering about what a happy ending might look like.  And that got me thinking of magical little coastal Maine towns, such as Storybrooke and Haven, towns filled with fairy tale creatures, places where a lady and her fish fellow would just be par for the course.

A place where Elisa might help out with families who had married selkies, running after children and being an understanding ear to those whose partners spent months away in the sea.  I imagine her teaching sign language to sisters whose adventures left them with diamonds or toads falling from their lips whenever they spoke (as Neil Gaiman says, jewels are sharp and cold and can be as uncomfortable as snails in the mouth).  There would be young lovers who traded their voices for legs (or tails, or wings) and would need to be able to communicate.  I think of whole families who fled Hamelin, only to find that the music of the Pied Piper followed their children across the ocean and the centuries. They would fill their children’s ears with wax and for 15 years would have to speak with their fingers.

And I imagine the whole town discretely respecting the “do not disturb” signal of Elisa’s red shoes at the end of her dock.