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reallyhardy · 2 years ago

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Bestie, please break down those costumes.Plssss.I am soooooo jealous of U🫀❤️♥️

of course!

the 2018 regent's park open air theatre little shop of horrors production is pretty standout visually because (while they didn't change the script by updating it) they did move away from the typical 1960s historical fashion for the characters and instead played with modern outfits and a blend of textures. the whole show had a strong colour scheme of black and white, neon green, pink, and blue. costumes & scenic design was by tom scutt.

we'll start with seymour, as played by the lovely marc antolin. his outfit is all blue, down to his glasses. (why are the curtains blue? you could say for his boyishness, or that he's kind of a melancholy character, or that white guys always wear blue, take your pick haha)

the main bit is a boiler suit made of different patchworked denim in various contrasting stripes and tied around his waist. his short sleeve button up continues the patchwork vibe with the painted brushstroke-esque check pattern. he also wears a shacket at certain points, and while hard to see in the above image it also had a thin pinstriped pattern. seymour is all about pattern mixing. a fun detail to note is that audrey ii's main colour is obviously green: in the centre bottom photo you can see he wore green band-aids on his fingers :')

also: while in these above photocall pictures that were used in promotion here had him in yellow socks, it's important to note that, at least when i saw it, his socks were pink. who's main colour is pink? it's audrey.

actually, her first outfit is also mostly blue. seymour and audrey have the most similar colour scheme so that gives them a strong visual link. so her first outfit is very much giving sexy: she's got a frilly top that we can see her bra through. we have a nod to vintage fashion with her cigarette pants. also while these photos show her wearing fluffy slide slippers, when i saw it she was wearing the little clear plastic kitten heels shown in the design sketch - we can tell this is her 'im trying to look sexually appealing to my boyfriend' look. she's showing it all off.

but notably, her hair is this adorable bubblegum pink shade, so i thought it was extra cute that seymour had socks to match. just a little hint of who he's thinking about.

anyway, during act 2, when audrey & seymour's relationship is blossoming further, audrey debuts a different look entirely:

(concept sketch shown along with a photo of understudy rosalind james.) in dramatic constrast to her 'sexy-for-orin' look, now she's in dungarees and a cute sweater, and she's swapped the heels out for sneakers. also, she's got on a pair of pink glasses, suggesting that contact lenses were part of her sexy look. this look is all about comfort: because she's happy and in love with seymour, who makes her feel more comfortable than orin did, and this outfit looks nicely like the 'partner' look to seymour's outfit.

this is getting long, so the rest is going under a readmore. click through!

so this is her 'sominex' outfit, the look she wears when she encounters audrey ii just before she dies. the clear raincoat is honestly just fun. i think if i recall right the stage directions in the script do call for her to be wearing a yellow rain-slicker, but pink is this audrey's colour, so she's rocking this. the glasses are still on too.

underneath, she's wearing this fun floaty half-blue half-pink nightie with matching 'mismatched' pompom slippers. she is giving everything in this look honestly. the meeting of the pink-and-blue, because she's wearing both her own and seymour's main colours (she'd still love him, even if he'd never found the plant, and all she wanted was to be with seymour 😭)

i'll do orin next:

absolutely obsessed with matt willis as the dentist. as a busted fan in my childhood, i went to see this production specifically for him :') so he's got a much more dishevelled punk look he's very ghoulish with his white foundation and heavy black eyeliner. also love the detail of him having a blacked-out tooth too, really emphasises how he's probably not the best of dentists. his dentist gear including bloody apron is in a very medical neon blue-green, and i love how utterly sci-fi horror the gas mask harness is. LOVE the ripped off sleeves on his white coat. he also had this amazing leather jacket with tooth design on and the ensemble had matching outfits:

get a load of the teeth print leggings on the backup dancer on the middle left, absolutely obsessed. love the 1980s punky vibe for the 'dentist' number. this production makes great use of matt willis' own tattoos: after seymour kills orin, he came back on stage with some dismembered orin bits, and the creative team had gone to the effort of painting matt willis' tattoos onto the fake arms that seymour fed to the plant :')

okay let's move on and look at mr mushnik, played by forbes masson:

small guy, huge voice, absolute standout. they've gone for 'little greasy man' as the vibe here, complete with a drawn-on pencil moustache. his outfit, much like the ensemble, doesn't have a lot of colour, just a fairly normal grey suit with a work jacket. the most notable thing about his look is that while he starts out in a purple bow tie, once the shop starts seeing success, he wears a bow tie in audrey ii's neon green. like seymour's band-aids, audrey ii's colour (and therefore her influence/impact) shows up in the costumes of a lot of the other characters.

let's do audrey ii next then, as played by vicky vox:

so this production makes use of both the usual 'audrey ii is a puppet' situation plus then having the drag queen performer on stage to interact with the other characters as like, the plant personified. absolute LOVED it. let's start with the puppet:

we've got the baby form and slightly bigger form i think here, it's a fun alien looking plant, love the spherical head with human teeth. for the plant to 'grow', a bigger version of this plant head is placed inside of a 'mouth' that can open and close sort of like an aperture:

and upon opening it, drag queen audrey ii steps out. she kind of comes in and out of it, and mostly just interacts with seymour.

this outfit is absolutely fabulous, and i especially love the 'HERE IT IS' pointing down to her booty on the back of the jacket.

then a notable progression for audrey ii's appearance is the changing wigs. we can see that her first wig shown here below is the direct partner of audrey's, (after all, the plant was named after her) and is styled the same way.

when i saw the show, both audreys were wearing different wigs that i thought weren't really as pretty as the ones from the photocall, these wigs are on the left of the above image. i'll call these the round wigs.

the most important thing to note though is that when audrey ii first appears, she has that strong visual link to original audrey. and this is played up in the way that audrey ii interacts with seymour during 'feed me' - audrey ii acts quite flirtatious with seymour and he seems receptive to it and has to visibly shake himself out of it. then in the second act, audrey ii switches wigs to the style in the above middle. during suppertime, there was more of audrey ii trying to be flirtatious with seymour, but at this point he is much more disgusted by it: audrey ii's wig no longer resembles original audrey’s, and by now seymour hates her guts.

the final look for audrey ii via photocall features what seems to be the original wig but with the curls blown out, styled to be more messy and windswept, but by the end of the run during the finale audrey ii just wore the round wig, with the added venus flytrap headpiece and feathered cape.

apologies for the terrible screencaps: the fabric the cape was made of featured green rocky horror-esque lips showing teeth. it was mega. the wig also featured some long pink extensions at the back.

let's go back a bit to some other characters who have been wearing audrey ii's green consistently, and that's the urchins:

they wear these punky, i would say more 1990s streetwear inspired costumes throughout the whole show, and don't change until the end. the two gals on the left wear pieces that tie in strongly to the set, which is a crumbling grayscale newspaper-inspired city/drive-in theatre set proclaiming 'GOD BLESS AMERICA' across the top.

we can see the girl on the far left has a grayscale US flag top, while the middle girl has grey cityscape patterned sweatpants. then all three of them are wearing the bright neon of audrey ii, reminded us and the audience who's story they're telling. out of the 3, my definite fave look is the girl on the right, with the green jacket and shiny 'FEED ME' print leggings. i need those leggings. but yes what we can notice is that 2/3 urchins' outfits align strongly not only with audrey ii's green but with the same grayscale/cityscape patterns that the ensemble wear during skid row & other scenes:

anyway i like that the ensemble's look speaks to like... the set coming alive to tell the story. it's cool. this comes back during act 2 when the ensemble put on gloves that resemble audrey ii's vines and push around shopping trolleys with bits of building set inside:

not so easy to see that they were wearing the gloves, but basically they had long fingers that looked like smaller versions of these vines.

and with all this green let's get to the finale, where everyone has a different look. we've already seen audrey ii, here's the urchins.

lovely and shiny looks, this time they're all wearing the same thing. these are their sort of... idk i guess this is circus vibes tbh? welcome to this absolute circus: the finale definitely DOES have a circus vibe, making clowns of the cast, particularly seymour. here's a look at everyone with audrey ii lording over everything at the top:

the enesmble have VERY fun alien plant costumes on, with a big focus on toothy mouths and floppy tongues (we've seen audrey ii's cape with its green lips so it's all on the same oral fixation) let's take a closer look at seymour's outfit, which is definitely giving clown, considering he was the great fool of the story.

so it's this great big fluffy clown suit over his blue shirt that now his this shiny blood appliqued on, love it, with the green on the limbs ending at the shirt with the plant lips and teeth at his shoulders/waist, implying that his limbs have been eaten by the plant. this is great to see in action!

now let's take a look at the rest which i'm gonna have to show via very low quality screencaps because seymour's was the only photo tom scutt posted. here's audrey, orin & mushnik's 'plant looks', these guys are more like... audrey ii's put them in drag.

audrey's achieved her somewhere that's green fantasy, in a great swirly dress with full skirt and ruffly sleeves, still in her blue and pink colour scheme, in her same sneakers and pink glases. she's also got white lace gloves on. audrey ii said 'okay girl you can have this as a treat'. hers is the least alien-plant because it's like... audrey's fantasy look, and i love that.

orin's in a gold sequin mini-dress, but still his same combat boots. it reminds me of a brad pitt photoshoot from rolling stone 1999. look it up and i think you'll agree and i'd hazard a guess that it was a direct inspiration for this look.

mushnik's got on the long vine-finger gloves that the ensemble has during the meek shall inherit, and then a spectacular sequined set: blazer, bow tie, and the actor forbes masson said it's specifically supposed to be a kilt, because he is scottish and i think chose this as part of his look. he's also got light up gold sneakers, obsessed, and in the close up you get a look at his gold & green cats eye glasses and green lipstick.

okay i think! i've covered all of the main looks, or at least everything that i could find reasonably clear images of. iirc seymour did have a leather jacket for the scene where he's trying to make himself more like orin because he thinks audrey will like that, but i couldn't find any photos.

thanks for reading! i know this was a long post but i absolutely adoooore the visuals of this production and its a damn shame that it doesn't have a recording 😭😭😭

#little shop of horrors #regent's park open air theatre #LSOH #seymour krelborn #audrey fulquard #orin scrivello

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toonatic92 · 2 months ago

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(TW/CW: Blood, bruises, body horror, eyestrain)

[Image description: A marker drawing of Ricky, a bald, middle-aged magical boy in a gold and red dress, about to strike a TERF sludge monster with his club staff. Behind him are echoes of his past selves before his transition, a young butch lesbian in dungarees with a broken nose and a tomboy girl covered in dirt and plasters. All three of them are trailing the trans flag colours behind them. The background is pink with gold stars and the words 'Dance, Dance, Feel The Heat, Hit That Perfect Beat Boy' in red and yellow block capitals on it.]

This was meant to be posted during Pride Month, but I'm always a bit late with Pride Month drawings, so it doesn't matter.

I've had this idea in my head for a long time. I tend to set scenes with my characters to music, and when I first heard 'Hit That Perfect Beat' by Bronski Beat, I connected it to Ricky/Agent Aries. Part of Ricky's backstory is that he hung around the gay bars in London in the late 90's, but he made friends who were around in the 80's when the song came out.

In the world of Agents of the Zodiac, an alien race exists that possesses people already caught up in negative thoughts or feelings, and turns them into rampaging monsters so they can feed on the misery their destruction causes. When I was thinking up what kind of monsters Ricky and the other Agents would be fighting, a TERF came to mind, since Ricky is trans. She would probably be one of those loudmouth talking heads that have made a career out of being publicly and loudly transphobic. A hypocrite who despite being a lesbian, is willing to ally with homophobes just to attack trans people. Her obsessive hatred is what got the alien to possess her and turn her into this sludge monster.

Ricky became part of the community at the tail-end of the AIDS crisis. He had to nurse his gay friends and slowly watch them die from it, so he knows that unity between everyone in the community is important. He didn't go through losing his friends, being beaten up by homophobes and the pain of feeling wrong on the inside to let a member of the community, who he once shared an identity with, divide it up and get into bed with virulent bigots. So beating up a TERF monster will be very cathartic for him.

I used a lot of symbolism on the design of the TERF monster. The multiple eyes represent how they obsessively watch for the scary trans people that they've made up in their heads. The (censored) dicks represent their fear of anyone with a penis being anywhere near them. The broken female symbol is their fear that the concept of womanhood is being destroyed. The wine glass is because a lot of them are wine mums. The toothed vulvas and uterus represent how they weaponise having vaginas and wombs as the only true sign of womanhood against any trans women who don't have them. The different coloured oozes are the colours of the suffragette flag that they co-opted.

So anyway, fuck TERFs and happy (late) Pride!

Medium: Markers on Bristol Board.

Links to other versions: DeviantART Instagram

#my art #trans character #trans pride #pride month 2024 #trans man #magical boy #body horror tw #slime monster #traditional art #trans positivity #eyestrain

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the-firebird69 · 11 months ago

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So one of the players on the Lakers asked what goober Meister could do for them and he has some sort of tights on and it's kind of what they are it's like wearing dungarees they're slightly protective it's really for falling over. And he's laughing cuz it looks like you know Spanx he said what are you guys jelly rolls that's a slang for a cops... And they're getting into it he's doing that. Yeah and the guy's going to get hung. He was attacking a game and the games going after him and he's a complete lunatic those days are number and every little bit helps... But really we want to see if Trump fall we hate him he says we all do... He's very evil person he said he activated the AI today on purpose I almost lost my lunch and he knew what it would do for Dave and it does not want to be his friend he's trying to sleep he's trying to teach the computer Chloe says so what JC needs a computer and your dead man Joel cuz you're so stupid

I also some kind of Spanx

I would explain it a lot of them are trumpsters and boy they lame players eventually they pushed Larry Bird out and Kevin McHale and they tried for me they keep doing it and they suck so bad people don't want to see them and it's finally starting to turn I caught wind of what you're saying when I drove that ridiculous car it was a big horns on it they keep saying it's Texas beef and I said what is the beef with me you idiots and they said back we don't have to say it's obvious you start blabbing so I left they kept after me until they got the answer through and I said this you people are incessantly obsessed about stupid things this is not stupid we keep telling me it's going to eat you alive send you drawing on yourself you're awful people and I was just saying something in your harassing me trying to get at me and we can't stand how they sound either and we are going to go after them for with this little a****** announcer is saying but still they're ridiculous and there is a little bit of a pad in there it's not bad it's hard on the outside it's really needed but it moves around and it's not well made and they can make better in their sleep they can and they won't really obnoxious people are like mac gifted and they suck at it I'm so sick of it and I can seriously another short and now they're short I can't stand it but he says this is what it's like using a certain industry and it's very dangerous and I'm in basketball but I see what you're saying this is not recreation it's a professional sport it's like construction and he had all these goofballs sticking around them so he says the rebels they're doing stuff they can they get convinced to do stupid things all the time and the max don't care about the surface and I forgot about that but you're right they're taking with them and for some reason they don't understand that they're isolated and that they are going after them the last part is the most important

Shaquille O'Neal

And everybody is riding us know the max are doing it trying to get people to go after them they haven't done anything yet they're going after them send the armies and they haven't gotten anywhere and we're in trouble and yeah it's real I'm tired of being a wise ass to everyone and getting beat up because I'm being a wise ass and not telling them what's going on I mean really we're getting beat up and he says you can't tell them that and you cannot not tell them that and I'm following something I went to that water hole and I get it I'm actually telling on them and this is going to be a nightmare we did find out where it leads to and some of the chambers are empty and that we found but we know it was in there it was gold and the water runs on and so he traced it and it's still going and yeah the flowing water in there he wants me to call 911 in New York to get them back they are emptying their aquifer I'm going to go ahead and do that now

Trump

Olympus holy crap we're starting to see they're doing another places and we're sounding the alarm now

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berlinbisque · 2 years ago

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Highlights: My Mini Barista

Mini Post bigger article had been pre-scheduled along with this post on www.lilacnights.com/post/my-little-barista

Click on the images for better quality, it looks best however in my camera roll cuz it gets rasterised once published on twitter or other social media apps

Part 1 I realised I wasn't the only one to be obsessed with bears 🐻 when as a grown up, I came across Ralph Lauren's mascot, we both love that classic British heritage style & Varsity, Ivy League stuff, well like minds think alike... I have a lot of items with bears on them, including my phone cover, a chenille velvet sweater, bedroom booties, socks... I can't resist anything with a bear print or motif. I got the small sign board for 250/- it was on special offer and it comes with a chord I wanted something small there as I already have a lot of paintings, the antler jar is for mini marshmallows and that Vintage Coffee Tin is one of my most favourite purchases, it was also on sale (599/-) and what's so special is that it has a golden metal latch instead of an ordinary lid, I wanted a tin box cuz they are lighter than ceramic ones so I got it to avoid weighing down the counter, the lid has a deep brown espresso shade in matte plastic, overall quality is really good, next, that Emerald green marble tray has beautiful matte golden handles which look very stylish and sophisticated. I was not able to find anything like that on other sites as in such handles in particular... I'll be getting golden spoons/stirrers to keep there (I wanted the antler ones but they are currently sold out, I wish I would've taken them earlier) the sprinklers are great too they come in a mini basket tray and I picked croissants & biscuits instead cupcake cuz these look more realistic and croissants go better with coffee and I'm very happy with my choice cuz they look even more cute in real life, better than the photos. I'll be keeping another small creamer for condensed milk (cold coffee).

Click on the image for better quality

Part 2 This table is my favourite, I won't weigh it down much, it comes with a small section at the back for cable wires and chords and you can use them in a concealed manner by keeping the cover which also has a slit for tablets, iPad etc. I can use this table later on as a writing desk or work station. I'll be keeping it clean and covering all the necessary areas with lilac and cream coloured table mats (they are intricately woven with golden metallic thread) and adding a mini wooden rack below for Syrups and Fudges - for now I have picked Caramel & Chocolate fudge and Dark Chocolate Cookie & Vanilla. I also added this mini Turkish pourer (click on it to open the pic) for warm Chocolate Sauce 450/- I managed to get that Barista bear somehow as RL's bears were obviously very expensive and this one was not from the kid's range, he has a gingham shirt in the same green colour & grey dungarees, it's difficult to find good quality Teddy bears in India (they are usually very garish, either red, yellow or magenta, maroon :/ or cheesy for gf/bf 6 ft tall) but I managed to get this one, I also realised I had a refund voucher of 500/- since 2019 luckily they had kept it there so I was surprised when I saw the total bill amount, my bear just costed me 590/-

Please click on it for better quality

That is my Barista Bear... doesn't he look straight out of Ralph's Coffee shop? I was a bit worried about the rose but now I feel it'll add that old world charm as in it reminds me of those romantic novelty gifts you would get in the 90s.

Xoxo

Zara Sauleh

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thed4rkhand · 3 years ago

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Tarot pick a card

What your future spouse thinks of you?

Read before -

I’ll be including some intuitive stuff, just know that it’s general so not every thing is meant for you, take what resonates.

Since perception is a dynamic concept, ill relate this to what they will think of you the first time they meet you, as in after a proper interaction, not just impression.

Midway this just turned into me calling people out. I apologize

Pick an Emerald and let’s get started.-

Pile 1-

They may think you’re super career focussed, and somewhat stubborn in your approach. I’m getting strong Taurus and Capricorn energy here. You may come off as a little snooty or snobbish to people, even though you’re truly not trying to be. Resting bitch face? You may be a perfectionist, or at least come off as such. They type to say “Well, let me do it for you” kinds. Cancer and Capricorn, maybe virgo vibes. This pile is so earth heavy, you guys might be the kind whose looking for stability and chalk out your plans way in advance, but have an issue with really executing the plan.

You may be someone who is always juggling between a gazillion tasks, and always curious to learn about things. They’ll definitely pick up on these inquisitive qualities of yours, as well as often times being all over the place. You may have your head high up in the clouds too, Sagittarius and Pisces? You definitely dilly-dally a lot, for example, you want a fitter body, but aren’t ready to workout, even if you chalked out a whole schedule to follow the night before. You’re often too lost in your thoughts, and this duality of air and earth is super prominent in your first impression here. Drawn to pile 2? Go there too

Lastly intuitive stuff - you may have a “everything will come to me on its own attitude”/ may own a dog/ be a bit traditional/ fond of wearing hats?/ wacky inventions/ green/ maroon/ cowboys/ horses and guns/margaritas/ short height/ intercut a lot with guys/ indulge in drinking / introvert

Pile 2-

Ooh pile 2, if you felt pulled to pile 3 then check that out too. Now coming onto your reading, you may come off as a bit serious and tired. You may be the kind of person who feels the have the burden of the whole damn world on their shoulders, and have forgotten how to be childish again. Moon in Scorpio? You guys may reminisce a lot about the past, and are extremely self conscious of what others think of you. You display this quite clearly. My fellow escapists, is this you? They’ll see those tendencies in you, how you’re so somber and avoid emotional or psychological intimacy. You try to brush things under the carpet and act as if all is good and fine. Where are my Virgo and Aquarius babies?

They’ll see you going through an upheaval at this point. I also feel like people here don’t have great relationships with their parents? They’ll see you bicker a lot, or just having straight up given up. They can alternately also see you as someone to whom their parent’s approval and opinion means a lot. You may be the mother of the group, always consoling people and helping them, but also you have terribly toxic friends? Capricorn and cancer, also pisces babies here. They’ll see this too. You can be incredibly hard on yourself and very anxious, inner turmoil in your head. However you’ll be very private about such matters. Hang on darlings!

Lastly intuitive stuff- hairbands/marmalade/drinking/blue/scissors/knives/grandparents/huts/ relaxing/ blonde/ construction/ hands/ eyebrows/ crockery/ coffee/ gems/ pictureframes/ self victimization/ home chores/ patriarchy/ feminism

Pile 3-

So your person might think you’re full of potential, though a bit indecisive. You have so many different ideas, but you don’t know where to start, and this often leaves you exhausted and uninspired. You might be somewhat hyper active and impatient, you want results and you want them now. Aries and Gemini babies, please reveal yourselves. You’re highly charismatic, and somewhat impulsive. You may rush into things without a well though out plan. You get deeply engrossed in things, sometimes even obsessive over things. You may be extremely into foreign cultures and learning about them too! Aquarius and Sagittarius babies cmon.

You might put on a happy face and brave through things, but ultimately it’s not you. You may bottle up emotions and at times be vindictive. Read a lot of self help book? Maybe you’re into psychology. You may have very clinical feelings, and find it hard to be empathetic. You be be extremely cynical and try to perfect every task, only as far as it concerns you. With other’s you’re always forgiving. Drawn to pile 4? Are you guys into law? My libra babies? They may think you’re really smart, and have a very objective sense of justice. You may be extremely blunt in your approach, no nonsense kinds too. You may be into debating.

Lastly intuitive stuff- books/ kebabs/ grills/ outdoors/cycles/ cooking/ cleaning/ OCD?/ painting/ fizzy drinks/ daydreamer/ Sean Connery?/ converse/ dungarees/ autumn/ meadows/ all bark no bite/ ankle ache

Pile 4-

Eeesh, so many cards flew out. I think I have my chatty bunch here. They’ll firstly instantly see you as their soulmate, however ludicrous it sounds. Things between you will fall into place. They’ll think you’re far too mature for your age and very philosophical. They’ll think you’re extremely charming. My Libras and Pisces babies here. They think you’re juggling too many commitments, and are a bit all over the place. Do you guys have some health issues here? They may pick up on that too! They may however think you’re a bit stingy and materialistic honestly though. You place too much importance on money and status here. You may enjoy the life of comfort, and like to micromanage everything. My Taurians and Leos come out.

They may think you’re extremely practical and don’t take anyone’s shit, if something is not suiting you, you walk out for good. You are keen at identifying issues like this, but sometimes you don’t know when to stop with your personal endeavors. You get too hung up on the time and money or effort you spent, and keep trying to fix things, even beyond repair. Cancer babies, virgo babies, come out. You may be an extremely competitive person, and sometimes cat impulsively, only to regret it later. You may win fights, but at what cost? You be be moody and hold grudges.

Lastly intuitive stuff- gardening/ sun hats/ flowers/ ropes/blue/ dresses/ lace/ thread and scissors/ dog/ ballet/ dancing/ mischief/ feminine/ gingham checks/ heels/plates/ intuition/ confused/ red car/ planes/Scarfs/ Marylin Monroe?

Anywhoo let me know if you guys enjoyed it or have any other suggestions!!

#tarot #pick a card #pac #tarot reading #future #intuitive #tarot pac #pick a pile

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watchmegetobsessed · 4 years ago

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Eunoia - Harry Styles

a/n: i’ve been meaning to write a piece filled with just fluffy, domestic moments through a relationship, and that’s when i created Flora in my mind. wrote it with an OC bc i had very specific traits and stuff in my mind about her and it didn’t feel right to write it with y/n but feel free to read however you’d like it! but i think Flora is a delightful girl, she is a teacher and a free spirit, i think you’ll like her!

pairing: Harry x OC (Floortje ‘Flora’ Hoven)

word count: 9.5k

masterlist

Eunoia (n.) Beautiful thinking: a well mind.

Harry is always looking forward to times when his days aren’t filled from morning to midnight, traveling all around the world, meeting dozens of new people at various new meetings. Don’t get him wrong, he loves the buzz his life comes with, but one can drive this lifestyle only for a while before getting tired. He now appreciates his calm periods, when he is not living out of his suitcase, he has the time to drop by a café and enjoy his morning coffee sitting down instead of grabbing it in a go-to cup and chugging it down in his car. When he can just take a walk when the weather is nice enough and his favorite is when he has the time to just look at things without a rush and appreciate them.

He has built up a habit of going to the same coffee place since he got off tour and jumped right into his well-deserved months off filled with meditation, resting and focusing on himself after giving so much for the world. It’s just two corners down his place, falling perfectly into his way to the gym and now he even has a favorite table in the corner, because it gives him a great view of the place but the vines hanging from the ceiling masks his presence enough that people don’t often notice him there, providing some privacy for his morning coffee.

It was his third day here when he first noticed her. She was sitting at the table by the window, near the door, deep in a book, another pile waiting for her on the free seat next to her as she intensely made notes of her reading. She had her wild, curly hair in a puffy bun on the top of her head, clearly just thrown into it haphazardly when she started working. Her ivory frame glasses kept sliding down the bridge of her nose and thy seemed a bit too big for her face, but they overall fit perfectly with her knitted sweater and dungarees. And Harry couldn’t look over the fact that she had little sunflowers painted on her nails. That instantly made him smile as he adorned her from afar.

As the days passed and Harry spent almost all his morning at the same spot, he started seeing or more like noticing her more often. She always sat at the same table and Harry figured it was because of the natural lighting coming through the windows that came in handy, because she was always either reading and making notes, or doing something crafty, mostly origami, he noticed. She often had her laptop open with tutorials on different origami works that she was trying to make herself, not always succeeding, but she got it right most of the time, a triumphant smile plastering across her face every time she finished a piece, her dimples digging deep into her round cheeks. Harry couldn’t stop herself from smiling whenever she held up the finished work and adorned what she just created. He often wondered what happened to the little creations afterwards, but she just usually shoved them into her backpack before leaving.

By the fifth or sixth time he has seen her, he already knew her order. Vanilla latte with a sprinkle of cinnamon on top. Large sized, of course, so she has something to sip on while she typed away on her laptop or finished reading another book.

Harry caught himself looking for her on mornings when he didn’t see her, which were usually Mondays, Wednesdays and Thursdays, but one Wednesday, when he had an early meeting for a change with his team, he arrived before 8 am into the place and for his biggest surprise, there she was, sitting at her usual table, drinking the same drink as always. Later, Harry found himself coming earlier on those days just to find her there yet again and he figured her work schedule must start earlier on those days.

As the days went by Harry started to play with the thought of walking up to her. He wondered if she has noticed him as well, but it seemed like even if she did, his presence didn’t impress or bother her at all which just irked his curiosity about her even more. But every time he thought about finally talking to her, he decided against it, feeling like he would just be an intruder in her morning sessions. Until one day, the chance was handed to him on a silver plate.

She is doing origami once again on this particular day, making little cranes, one after the other, using different colored papers to make them form out a mess rainbow on her table. It’s a quiet morning, only a few more people sitting around at place. It’s been quite windy the past couple of days and today seems to be the worst, the trees are being tossed around by the howling winds outside, but it just makes it even cozier to sit inside in the warmth, enjoying a nice hot drink.

Harry finds himself watching her intently as her delicate fingers work on the paper, one crane following the other, she is starting to have a whole army of them.

An older man walks into the café and as he opens the door wide, the wind is quick to run into the place, knocking over everything that’s not heavy enough to stay still and the paper cranes are the first ones to start flying off the table.

“No! Darn it!” she gasps, her hands grabbing after them, saving just a few, but most end up on the floor, somersaulting away from her table. Harry is quick to jump to his feet and come to her rescue, lending her a pair of helping hands as she gathers her creations. “Oh, thank you!” she breathes out softly, her eyes meeting his and for his biggest surprise… she doesn’t seem to be stunned or even surprised by him, as if she doesn’t know who he is.

Maybe she doesn’t, it’s a possibility, he tells himself, smiling at her as he collects the cranes from the floor.

“Guess they wanted to be free,” he jokes, setting them on the table with the rest.

“It wasn’t my brightest idea to do it on such a windy day near the door,” she chuckles, looking over the bunch she’s been working on for the past thirty minutes.

“May I ask why you need so many paper cranes?” Harry inquires, leaving out the part that he’s been watching her do her origami for weeks now.

“Oh, I want to make decorations out of them, hang them up in my classroom. I’m a teacher,” she adds smiling.

That’s the most fitting job he could ever imagine for her, she is definitely the cool and adored teacher every kid is obsessed with.

“Wow, and how many do you need?” he asks, the stack of paper at the edge of the table looks quite a lot and he wonders if she wants to use them all for the cranes.

“Well, as many as I can make before my fingers fall off,” she jokes. Harry notices her freckles from up close that have been hidden behind her glasses until now. Her hair is in two space buns today and she is wearing a striped shirt with light-washed jeans and colorful sneakers. The sunflowers are gone from her nails, replaced by tiny daisies, but Harry likes them just as much as the previous flowers. They fit her well.

“Do you… I would love to help, if you want,” he finds himself offering, not even thinking about the question before it slips his mouth.

“You sure?” she asks, seemingly surprised but she definitely doesn’t find it weird that he just offered to help her.

“Yeah. Looks really calming and I haven’t made one in so long. Want to see if I still remember the steps,” he smiles.

“Take a seat then,” she nods, returning his smile. Harry goes back to his table to grab his stuff and join her.

“I’m Harry, by the way,” he introduces himself as he takes the empty chair at her table, holding out his hand for her that she gladly takes.

“Floortje, but everyone just calls me Flora,” she smiles.

“Never heard that name, what’s the origin of it?”

“It’s Dutch. My dad is Dutch, he came up with the name as well and my mother liked it. It means little flower, nothing grandiose,” she chuckles, reaching for another paper to start her next crane.

“Do you have a Dutch last name as well?” he asks, but then realizes she might not feel comfortable sharing her full name just yet. “You don’t have to tell me your last name though, if you don’t want to.”

“It’s alright,” she chuckles. “It’s Hoven, which is Dutch, but you pronounce it pretty much the same as you’d if it was a simple English word, just with a softer V in the middle,” she explains, her fingers working easily and fast on the thin paper, the crane is already starting to form. Harry reaches for a paper himself and tries to recollect his memory of the steps.

“Were you born in the Netherlands too?”

“Yes, I was born in Eindhoven, but we moved here when I was five. But my Dutch is still just fine, luckily. My dad refused to talk to me in English when we moved, he said he won’t have his daughter forget her mother tongue just because he is getting paid more here,” she explains with a soft chuckle as she finishes up the crane, putting it to the pile.

“I always envied bilingual people. Must be great to speak two languages that easily,” Harry wonders, eyes fixed on the paper as he is trying his best with the crane. It’s slowly coming together, though it’s not as pretty as Flora’s.

“It’s not that fun when I suddenly forget a word in one of the languages and then spend twenty minutes trying to remember when I know for a fact I know the words, it’s just stuck on my tongue.”

Harry laughs, finishing up his creation, holding it up and Flora looks at it as well. It’s a little crooked and one of its wings is longer than the other, but overall, it’s a decent first one.

“You don’t have to use it if you don’t want to,” he chuckles, putting it to the others.

“What are you talking about? It looks great!” she smiles, taking it into her hand, looking at it from all angles, smiling widely as she places it back to its peers. “It’s a nice one, and after all, it’s not your job to make cranes, so you’re fine,” she jokes.

Harry reaches for another paper as he thinks about if she knows him. Does she know what his job really is? Not that he expects everyone to know him, but she seems his age and it’s been quite impossible for him to meet someone close in age to him and not know a thing about him.

“Yeah, origami is definitely not my job,” he hums and then adds: “You… know what my job is?”

Flora glances up at him, a small smile tugging on her lips.

“Is this your way of trying to find out if I know you or not?” she smirks, tilting her head to the side, and it’s already a giveaway that she is very much aware of who she is sitting at a table with.

“I know, it was lame,” he huffs awkwardly.

“No, it was alright. And to answer your question, I do know what your job is, Harry Styles,” she replies.

“Sorry for asking around about it, you just seemed so casual and unbothered when you saw me, I thought you have no idea who I am.”

“I’m a teacher, my job is to treat everyone the same, I take equality very seriously. I don’t want my kids to think I put any of them above the rest, but I do the same outside of school too. Or do you want me to gasp and stutter now that you are sitting here?” she teases him making him laugh.

“That’s not needed at all.”

They work on their cranes in a comfortable silence and just as Harry thought, it’s quite relaxing, his thoughts slowly clear out, only focusing on the little birds he is creating. Then he glances up at Flora and suddenly his thoughts are filled with her once again. Now is his chance with her, he doesn’t want to leave this café without at least asking for her number even when he knows that he will surely see her around, just like always.

“Can I ask you something?” he speaks up as they both keep folding the colorful papers.

“Of course.”

“I hope I won’t sound creepy or something, but I’ve seen you around a lot and noticed how much you read. Is that just your hobby or…?”

“First of all it’s not creepy that you have noticed me, it’s flattering, because I have noticed you as well,” she smiles, paying him a quick glance.

“Really? I had a feeling you haven’t even seen me.”

“I did, but I thought you come here for the same reason as I do; to have some peace for yourself.”

“Ah, I see,” Harry nods.

“But to answer your question, I’m working on my second degree.”

“Oh, what’s that about?”

“Special education, speech therapy to be exact,” she tells him and Harry is even more stunned by her. Education is already a field not many can handle and then there is Flora, who didn’t just take up on it, she jumped right into it, pursuing a second degree in special education, a hard and challenging part of this job.

“Any particular reason why you chose it?”

“I have a younger brother, he is ten years younger than me, so he was already born here, but he was taught Dutch too. However, it wasn’t as easy for him as it was for me to speak two languages at the same time and he has developed some speech errors. Nothing major, but it was enough for him to be bullied in school. I saw his face every day when he came home and lied to our parents that everything is fine but then he cried to me in my room when they weren’t around. I don’t want any other kids to go through that, I’d love to be the one to not just help them come over their speech errors but also make sure they are treated the same way as everyone else.”

Harry hasn’t even noticed that he stopped working on his crane, he is now staring at her in awe, completely stunned by her. The more he learns about her the more he thinks she is a literal angel sent from above and that he can’t let her slip from his hands.

Flora looks up at him and finds him staring, a blush appearing on her full cheeks.

“Sorry for staring, but I just… this is so beautiful. Your passion about education is just one of a kind, truly. And the way how you made it your whole career and everything, I’m just… blown away,” he admits.

“Well, you made a career out of your passion too, didn’t you?” she chuckles softly.

“I did, but your story is just a little more touching,” he smirks. “Flora, I’m gonna be honest with you. I’ve been meaning to come up to you for a while and now that we officially met, I just—I would love to take you out on a date and get to know you better.”

She blushes again and Harry notes how well the pinky shade fits her even if she probably wishes she could control it more.

“That would be lovely,” she smiles shyly and grabbing a crane from her pile she grabs a pen from her bag and writes her number to the wing of it before handing it over to Harry.

He loves that she could have easily just typed it into his phone, yet she chose to do it this way. He smiles down at the crane and puts it into his bag, securing it as if it was his biggest treasure.

When Flora opens her door for Harry she is still wearing her apron that’s filled with tulips, a pair of simple jeans underneath it with a bright yellow shirt. Harry smiles as he leans down and greets her with a soft kiss. Ever since their first kiss he has been obsessed with stealing one whenever he has the chance. Their first one was nothing grandiose, such a simple and mundane moment but for him, it was perfect. They were visiting a gallery, he chose the exhibition hoping she’ll be a fan of it since the theme was botany, all paintings connected to flowers, gardens and plants and he was right. Flora was stunned, fascinated by each painting as they stopped at one after the other, taking their time to adore the works. They were looking at a painted garden filled with colorful wildflowers around a small cottage in the distance. Flora’s eyes wandered over all the tiny details as Harry stood close to her. She then leaned closer to point out her favorite flower and once they realized just how close their faces were, he just easily closed the gap and kissed her softly, surrounded with art, but he was convinced she was his favorite masterpiece he has ever seen.

“Hi, sorry, I’m a little late, dinner is not ready yet,” she huffs letting him inside. “Had to stay at the school a little longer than expected.”

“Don’t worry. Can I help with anything?” he asks following her into the kitchen, putting the bottle of wine he brought into the fridge to keep it cool until dinner.

“No, it’s fine. I just need about fifteen minutes to finish up the veggies,” she smiles at him and tiptoeing she steals a quick kiss. Harry hasn’t been the only one obsessed with kisses. “Make yourself home.”

Harry leaves to use the bathroom quickly and on his way back he finds himself wandering into her bedroom. He has been in her home just a few times before, only spending short minutes here when he was picking her up but now he has time to actually look around, hoping she won’t mind him snooping around.

Her whole place is just as colorful as she is always, each piece of furniture a different style and color, yet fitting so well when you see it as a whole. The quilted patchwork blanket over her bed is definitely homemade, each patch has a different flower on it while the left lower corner has Floortje embroidered into it. Harry wonders if it was made by a friend or family member, either way, it’s surely a special piece.

Her dresser is cluttered with rings, perfumes and endless amount of hair ties. She has complained before that her hair stretches her elastics out so fast, she keeps buying new ones every month. The little armchair in the corner is covered with a few of her used clothes, ones she’ll wear once more before putting them into the laundry basket.

As he walks over to her nightstand that’s filled with books, at least seven piled on each other, his eyes stop over something that makes his heart flutter.

A crooked little paper crane is sitting on the edge of the nightstand, the one he made the first time they talked, to be exact. Harry takes the bird and looks at it in awe, surprised that she kept it to herself. However he doesn’t find it odd, not even a little bit, since he has also kept the one she wrote her phone number onto, it’s sitting on his desk in his study.

“Found something interesting?” Flora walks in and Harry’s head whips towards her, feeling like he was just caught. But the warm smile on her lips is a telltale sign that she doesn’t mind him looking around.

“You kept it,” he states matter-of-factly, holding up the paper bird.

“Of course I did,” she nods, walking closer. “It’s a special one.”

“Thought you treat everyone and everything the same,” he teases smiling as he puts the crane back, his hands finding her waist.

“I guess there are a few exceptions,” she smirks slyly, her hands running up on his arms until they reach the base of his neck.

“Am I an exception?” The corners of his mouth curl up as he places the bird back on her nightstand and circle his arms around her waist.

“Did I say that?” she teases him. “I think I called your work a special one.”

Harry narrows his eyes at her, pretending to be hurt at her words, but he can’t push the growing smile back from his lips. They’ve been seeing each other for only over a month, but it was enough time to make him completely hooked on her. He is amazed by her in every possible way, feeling like he could never get enough of the ray of sunshine that Flora is. His favorite thing is that she makes him feel so normal, just an average guy dating a girl he met at a café. Not once did she treat him any different because of what he is and it’s just the feeling Harry has been looking for for such a long time.

“Come on, dinner is ready,” she smiles, pecking his lips before peeling his arms off of her frame, taking his hand as she pulls him out of the bedroom, however they surely end up in there again sometime after dinner, but with way less clothes on.

Harry watches as Flora plays with the bubbles in front of her, picking some foam up into her hair, watching it move around on her wet palm before blowing on it gently, her delicate fingers poking at the small bubbles that escaped from it. His hands are caressing her sides under the warm water that was once hot when they first got into it about an hour ago.

It’s been a lazy Sunday, Flora arrived early in the morning and went plant shopping. Her home has always been filled with plants and Harry has grown a liking to all the greenery, wanted some more in his house as well and Flora was more than happy to help him pick out the ones that are the easiest to take care of. Then they cooked lunch together, watched a movie and cleaned up the mess they made in the kitchen before running the bath. Harry has been loving these domestic days, lounging around his or her home, wearing comfy clothes and not caring about much of the outside words, just enjoying each other’s company.

“Remind me to buy peanut butter the next time I’m going grocery shopping,” she speaks up, leaning further back against his chest while Harry rests his chin on her shoulder, his arms tightening around her waist under the layer of bubbles.

“What do you need it for?” he hums, nudging her hair with his nose, her curls ticking his face, but he doesn’t mint it.

“I want to make cupcakes for the kids next week.”

“What for? Is there gonna be a special occasion?”

“No, they’ve just been super nice lately, we set up some new rules in the classroom and they’ve been really good following them.” Harry hums, loving how she is so eager to treat her students, he is convinced she is easily the best teacher he has ever came across.

“So peanut butter, huh? I think I need some too. Been dying to eat a good burger with some peanut butter.”

“I cannot believe you put peanut butter into your burgers,” she chuckles, peeking at him over her shoulder.

“Don’t bash it when you haven’t even tried!” he defends himself, kissing her cheek softly.

“The Aztecs would be so disappointed,” she sighs turning back forward, so she doesn’t see the puzzled look on Harry’s face.

“The Aztecs?”

“Yeah, they technically invented peanut butter,” she nods, as if it was common knowledge.

“Do I want to know why you know this about the history of peanut butter?” he chuckles softly.

“Well I had this kid last year who was obsessed with it and I started looking up fun facts for him for mornings when he looked a little moody. Then the others started enjoying it too so it became our morning thing that I told them a fun fact about anything.”

“Oh really? Tell me one then!” he asks smirking, pressing a kiss to her shoulder.

“Okay, um…” she thinks to herself. “Do you know what the Olympic rings stand for?”

“I do not,” he shakes his head.

“The five rings stand for the five inhabited continents of the world, united by Olympism.”

“Sounds logical,” Harry nods. “Tell me another one,” he asks.

“Are you going to make me tell you all my fun facts?” she chuckles, turning a little so she can look into his beautiful green eyes.

“Maybe. I like it when you talk like this,” he smirks playfully.

“Like what?”

“Like… smart. I love how you know all these little things about the world and teach it to not just the kids but to me as well.”

“You don’t think I’m a smartass?”

“Why would I?” he questions, eyebrows furrowed.

“I used to be picked on in middle school because I liked to learn, more than what was required.”

“That doesn’t make you a smartass, baby. You don’t go around, correcting every tiny mistake around you. You use your knowledge to educate, like you should.”

Flora smiles softly at him, his words bringing the sense of reassurance she’s been seeking for so long. She pecks his lips shortly before turning back forward.

“Do you know how many days a billion seconds make up?” she asks, smiling to herself.

“I don’t.”

“11 574 days. That’s a little over 31 years.”

“So I haven’t lived a billion seconds in my life just yet,” Harry states, doing the quick math.

“No, you haven’t,” she smiles, mostly at the fact that he didn’t just listen to her little fun fact, but also thought about it a bit deeper.

They stay in the bath until the water gets cold and Harry keeps asking for fun facts and Flora gladly tells him whatever comes to her mind.

Harry finishes up the fresh salad, filled with Flora’s favorites: cherry tomatoes, feta cheese and corn with some kale, baby spinach and garlic dressing. He even sprinkled some sesame seeds on top, now he is pretty proud of his work, it looks like something influencers would snap in an aesthetic photo to their Instagram feed.

His bare feet tap against the hardwood floor as he makes his way to Flora’s bedroom where she is still curled up on her chair in front of her computer, her hair in a mess on top of her head, glasses perched up on the bridge of her nose. She hasn’t moved much from the spot in hours, intensely working on her thesis that should be finalized within the next two weeks. She has been gradually working on it over the last few months, in no mean she is behind, but she’s been extra nervous about making it as good as she wanted it when she started and Harry has been nothing but supporting about it, knowing how much it means to her. So he’s been her moral support, making sure she eats, gets some rest and doesn’t get herself too worked up about her research. She appreciates his efforts and though she often feels bad for neglecting him lately, he made sure to assure her, he’ll be right here when she is finally done with it.

Harry walks around the mountain of books on the floor she has piled up from the library these past two weeks as he walks up behind her while her fingers type away on her computer so fast he can barely believe she even understands what she’s typing.

“Hey,” he softly calls out, leaning down he kisses her cheek, holding the bowl of salad in front of her, drabbing her attention, making her gaze move from the screen to the food in front of her.

“Oh, hey! Is this for me?” she asks with a soft smile, lifting her head so she can look at him. Even with the circles under her eyes, the messy hair and worn out t-shirt that she’s wearing, he thinks she is the most wonderful creature he has ever seen.

“Yeah. Come take a break, yea?”

She doesn’t protest, just saves the file before moving away from the desk to the bed along with Harry. She props herself up against the headboard, a tired moan escaping her lips as her spine rests against the pillows under her back. Harry hands her the salad and she digs right into it, only just now realizing that she’s been feeling hungry for the past two hours, but ignored it entirely.

“How much do you have left?” Harry asks nodding towards the computer.

“I’m finishing up the last part, then I just have to write the abstract and then…” she explains, popping a tomato in her mouth. “It’s just gonna be the formatting. I think I’ll be done by Wednesday.”

“That’s great,” he smiles proudly. He has always admired how hardworking she’s been when it came to school and her profession. He could never imagine himself do the same, especially because he didn’t even finish high school. He used to feel a little self-conscious about it when they first started dating, afraid that she might think less of him because he didn’t finish his education properly, even though it was never something that bothered him. But Flora assured him that it makes absolutely no difference in her opinion about him.

“It’s not about the papers or how many schools you’ve finished. It’s about how you see the world and if you are willing to learn when it changes around you. And I think you are perfect in that department, your curiosity and openness makes you an excellent learner,” she told him without even thinking about it.

Harry lies on his side next to her, one hand propping his head up while the other one wanders to her thigh, massaging it gently. She hums to herself, enjoying the food he made and he can’t help the smile that creeps on his face. He loves taking care of her, especially because most of the times it’s her that takes care of him. Cooking for him after a long day at the studio, putting his laundry away while he is in an online meeting or writing him a list for when he goes grocery shopping, Flora has been watching out for him through these little things, but now it’s finally his turn to give it all back.

He’s been thinking about asking her to move in with him for a few weeks now, he just hasn’t been brave enough to bring it up, thinking that she might find it too early for such a big step, seeing that the two of them have been dating for a little over nine months. He’s been playing with the thought of coming home to her every single day, waking up next to her in the mornings, watch her form his home more to her liking, creating a space for the both of them, making it a home not just for him but her as well.

As she finishes up her salad, completely oblivious to what Harry is thinking about, he decides to bring it up once she is done with her thesis, not wanting to bother her in any possible way until she is finished.

“Mm, this was lifesaving, thank you,” she sighs, leaning over she kisses him softly as her appreciation for the sweet gesture. “I’ll finish up this one paragraph I’m in the middle of and then we could watch a movie. But strictly without subs, because I’m done with words for today,” she jokes, making him laugh as he takes the empty bowl from her hands.

“Sounds good,” he nods. “I’ll clean up in the kitchen and find something to watch while you finish.”

“Thank you.” As they both get up from the bed, she pulls him down for another kiss, Harry’s free hand finding the small of her back right away. “I love you,” she whispers against his lips, his heart fluttering in his chest at the words he has heard before, but it never fails to stun him.

“I love you too. Now go, finish it so we can cuddle,” he smiles, smacking her bum gently before they let go of each other.

“Ja, pappa. Dat klinkt fantastisch. Ik zal het hem vragen. Ja.” Yes, dad. That sounds fantastic. I’ll ask him. Yes.

Harry listens to Flora talk to her father on the phone as she applies her lip balm, the one she uses every night before going to bed. He loves it when she talks in Dutch, many tend to criticize the language, but not Harry. Or maybe it’s just because he only hears Flora talk it and he loves everything she does.

“Ja, dat is goed. Dank je. Tot ziens, pappa, ik hou van je!” Yes, that’s great. Thank you. See you soon, dad, love you!

She ends the call and switches the light off in the bathroom that’s been not just Harry’s but hers since she officially moved in with him just last week. Harry finally built up the courage to ask her opinion about the possibility of living together in the near future once she was free from the worries of her research and thesis. For his biggest surprise, she was on the exact same page as him, definitely a fan of the idea. So three weeks later they started slowly moving all her stuff over to his until her apartment completely emptied out. Now all her belongings are splattered across Harry’s home, they haven’t found the perfect place for everything just yet, but it’s slowly starting to feel like home for the both of them.

“Dad called, asked if we would go over for dinner this weekend,” she tells him, moving around the bedroom as she takes her little hoop earrings off, placing them in the shell she uses as a jewelry holder on top of the dresser. She is wearing a pair of yellow sweatpants with one of Harry’s shirts, nothing underneath them, just how Harry loves it.

“It’s cute how you always tell me it was your dad, but he is the only one you speak Dutch with,” he chuckles lowly as she climbs to bed, pulling the covers over the both of them.

“It comes so naturally, I don’t even realize I’m switching languages,” she admits smiling.

“Dinner sounds lovely,” he nods, getting back to what she was talking about before.

“Arnold is bringing his girlfriend too,” she smirks, her eyes sparkling from excitement.

“Your brother has a girlfriend now?” he hums, eyebrows rising at the new information.

“It’s the girl I saw him with at his basketball game last month. They made it official like two weeks ago.”

“And he is already bringing her home? He is not beating around the bush,” he chuckles. “Is it going to be the first time the girl meets your parents?”

“Yeah, so it’s gonna be exciting,” she nods, cuddling to his side.

Flora is playing with the little cross pendant on Harry’s chest and he is watching her delicate fingers flipping it over, her fingertips tickling his chest a little in the process.

“When we have kids, will you also teach them Dutch?” he suddenly questions, the words just blurting out of his mouth. Flora lifts her head, resting her chin on his chest as she looks into his curious eyes. She stays silent, but a small smile is tugging on her lips for sure.

“What?” he asks, feeling a little nervous. It’s the first time he is bringing having kids up, but he definitely has been thinking about it, especially since she has moved in. They haven’t been dating for that long, but Harry is one hundred percent sure he is in the long run with her.

“I just… love how you said when and not if.”

“Well, it’s a question of when for me. What about you?”

“Same goes for me,” she smiles warmly. “And yes, I do want my children to speak Dutch. It’s important to my family and me as well. How does that sit with you?”

“Totally fine. In fact, I always envied kids growing up who were taught another language so early in their childhood. Would love that for my kids as well.”

“Dan is het geregeld,” she smiles widely at him.

“What’s that mean?” He furrows his eyebrows.

“I said that, then it’s settled. We’ll have some cute, bilingual babies,” she chuckles, half jokingly, half seriously.

Today has just been one of those days that were doomed from the moment Harry opened his eyes. He has been overwhelmed with stress lately, working on new music, but his studio sessions haven’t been as successful as he wanted them. He is also flying out to LA for two weeks in just a couple of days and he has to miss Flora’s mom’s birthday this weekend, which has been torturing him with guilt ever since he found out he can’t push his trip back.

This morning it felt like the universe just plotted against him. He slipped in the shower, broke a glass in the kitchen and successfully ripped one of his favorite jeans when he was getting dressed. He had a one way ticket cranky city, turning Harry into a moody little child. It didn’t take him long until he started a fight with Flora over the smallest, most ridiculous thing. It started with how Flora misplaced a bowl in the cabinet and took him two moments longer to find it than usual, then they ended up disputing about every little thing about each other they’ve been finding annoying, but neither of them voiced their feelings about them.

Flora, on the other hand, was not in the mood to argue with Harry so early on a Tuesday morning and she chose to just walk away and let him stew in his own anger. Harry knew the moment he heard the front door shut that she was mad at him: she didn’t kiss him goodbye like she does every day before she leaves.

He took a cold shower to cool him down and clear his head, get his thoughts straight so he can apologize like she deserves. Getting into his car he drives to the florist he usually goes to when he needs flowers for whatever occasions. The old lady greets him with a warm smile and upon describing what he envisioned, she immediately knows what to create for him this time. The result is a giant, colorful bouquet that reminds him of Flora in every possible means.

Driving down to her school he is met with an extreme amount of nostalgia even though it’s not even the school he went to as a kid, but it still brings back some memories.

The security guard immediately stops him when he walks into the building, but once he has explained him the situation, the old guy gladly tells him which classroom is hers so he can go and surprise her. His footsteps echo in the empty hallways as it is the middle of the second period, all students are locked up in their classrooms, lucky for Harry, because he surely can’t deal with teenage girls recognizing him right now. Holding the flowers in one hand he stops when he finds room 414 and he can hear Flora’s voice coming from inside, enthusiastically explaining something about penguins and it makes Harry smile.

Even with such a horrible morning behind her, she is still giving one hundred for her students. He brings up his hand and softly knocks on the door, interrupting her speech.

“Come in!” she calls out and Harry opens the door, popping his head inside first, then holding up the bouquet of flowers, making the kids start chattering in excitement at his arrival while Flora is staring at him shocked.

“Miss Hoven, do you have a moment for me, please?” he asks with a shy but charming smile. She quickly gains back control over her features before turning to her class.

“Please start working on task two and five, I’ll be right back,” she orders, but the chatter doesn’t die down so she raises her voice at them. “This is not how we act when we have guests, guys!”

The kids are quick to quiet themselves, eyes curiously switching between their teacher and the intruder at the door.

“Miss Hoven, is this your husband?” one of the kids, a little blond boy asks.

“No, Michael, he is not. Harry is my boyfriend,” she answers calmly, heading towards the door.

“Wait, I know him!” a girl exclaims gasping. “He sings the watermelon song!”

“Lilian, no discussion now. Do the tasks!” Flora tells her before walking out, but keeping the door open so she can hear what’s happening inside. Her cheeks are flushed and eyes wide when she finally looks at Harry again. “What’s—What’s this?”

“These are for you,” he clears his throat, handing her the bouquet. “And I came here to apologize for being such an arsehole this morning. It wasn’t your fault, I’ve just been crankier lately and I took it all out on you. I’m very sorry.”

Flora’s eyes soften on him as she takes one of his hands with her free one, giving it a squeeze.

“I said some nasty stuff too, so I guess I’m sorry too,” she sighs, her anger and frustration from earlier now long gone.

“I brought that out of you, so I’ll take the blame,” Harry chuckles softly. “But the point is that I’m sorry.”

“Well, you are forgiven. You were even before you came here,” she assures him smiling warmly. “Why don’t we order something tonight and just get lazy on the couch?”

“You said you have some tests to go through.”

“That can wait. You’re leaving in two days so I want to spend time with you.”

“So we won’t get our tests back tomorrow?” they both hear a muffled voice coming from inside and Flora chuckles shaking her head as she opens the door wider and steps inside. A small group of kids run back to their seats, but not fast enough to not get caught.

“Lilian, would you mind telling me why you left your seat without permission?” Flora questions the girl who just rolls her lips into her mouth, pretending like she hasn’t even moved all along. Flora sighs stepping outside once again. “I gotta go now, but thank you for this. They look beautiful,” she tells Harry.

“I love you,” he murmurs and leaning down he kisses her quickly, feeling like he is breaking rules even though he is not a student or a teacher here.

“I love you too,” she smiles back before walking back inside and shutting the door. Harry stays for a minute, just out of curiosity to hear if the kids ask her some more questions about him.

“Miss Hoven?” a girl calls out and Harry bets it’s the same nosy girl who recognized him.

“Yes, Lilian?”

“You have a nice boyfriend,” she exclaims, earning a soft chuckle from Flora.

“Well thank you, Lilian, but let’s get back to our new unit. Let’s see the tasks you had to solve!”

The splashing sound of vomit arriving to the toilet hits Harry’s ears once again as he is rushing up the stairs with a glass of water and the Emetrol his hands that he dug the kitchen cabinets through for. Arriving to the master bathroom he finds Flora just where he left a few minutes ago, kneeling in front of the toilet, arms on the rim as she is taking a deep breath, hoping to calm her stomach and stop throwing up finally.

“Oh baby, here. Found you some Emetrol, this should help,” he coos gently, sitting down to the marble floor next to her he places the water beside him as he pours some of the liquid medicine into the cap for her. She lifts her head, skin pale as the wall, the dark circles under her eyes make his stomach churn, he hates to see her in this condition and wishes he could just help her.

“Thank you,” she mumbles, her shaking hand takes the cup and she downs the medicine before taking a few sips from the water. “Harry, I’m so sorry for ruining our date,” she sighs in defeat.

“Oh shush. Don’t you dare apologize for being sick,” he shakes his head, putting the Emetrol aside before he towers above her to redo her hair so it doesn’t fall to her face. Today marks their one year anniversary and though they only planned to go out for a nice dinner, nothing extra, Flora still feels bad they had to cancel on their reservation when she started throwing up this afternoon. She’s been feeling nauseous ever since she ate that leftover casserole for lunch. She had a feeling she should have just gotten rid of it, but she hated wasting food so ate it. Big mistake.

Harry’s fingers delicately work on her curls, piling them on the top of her heat before he secures the bun with professional movements using the elastic he tends to wear on his wrists, just because Flora always loses hers. He likes to keep one on him as well. His long haired days trained him well, her hair is neatly kept out of her face as she frowns, feeling her stomach churning again.

“Can I do anything else for you, baby?” he gently asks, pressing the back of his hand to her forehead to make sure she doesn’t have a fever, but she feels alright. She probably just has to get rid of the bad food.

“Can you please get me a wet washcloth?” she asks faintly. Sitting to her butt she leans against the wall beside her with her eyes closed.

Harry nods and he is on his feet in a blink of an eye, grabbing a washcloth from the cabinet and wetting it in some cool water. He kneels in front of her and starts gently tapping it against her cheeks, forehead and neck, wiping off the thin layer of sweat.

“This is not how I planned to spend our anniversary,” she groans with a frown, making him chuckle.

“We agreed, the anniversary is postponed. Don’t even think about it.”

“But I wanted to look nice for you, even bought a new dress.” She pouts her lips at him, eyes opening narrowly, glistening from the tears that watered them while she was throwing up.

“You always look nice, baby,” he softly tells her, letting her take the washcloth before she places it over her forehead.

“Even now? After you saw me throw up four times? We have very different versions for the word nice, H,” she jokes with a soft chuckle and Harry is thankful to see her smile, even if it’s still very faint and tired.

“Even now, baby,” he nods smirking and he is not lying. Though the situation is saddening, Harry still enjoys taking care of her, being the one she can rely on even on her worst days.

They sit on the bathroom floor as the medicine slowly works and she finally gets rid of the urge to throw up. Then Harry scoops her up and undressing the both of them, he helps her take a nice shower before dressing her in clean clothes, tossing their dirty ones into the laundry basket, noting to do them sometime in the morning.

When Flora is settled under the cover, head comfortably sinking into the pillow, she immediately feels her eyes closing, the strenuous afternoon has successfully sucked all her energy right out of her body. Harry brings her another big glass of water for the night and just to be sure, puts a trashcan next to her side, if things go south again. When he gets under the covers she is already half asleep, but she hums when his fingertips dance down the side of her face.

He allows himself to shamelessly admire her as she finally falls completely asleep, her lips parted as she slightly snores, but she looks so peaceful, the painful frown he saw on her face all afternoon is now gone from her beautiful face. He hasn’t fully wrapped his mind around how an entire year has passed with such a wonderful creature by his side. As their anniversary was coming up, he caught himself thinking about what the future is holding for them more often. There were so many things they needed to experience together, so much to see and do as partners and Harry couldn’t wait for it all to come.

As he lies in the bed next to her, a smile tugs on his pink lips at the thought of the possibility of spending the rest of his life with Flora. His future has never seemed brighter than in that moment.

“This is harder than I thought,” Flora admits, focusing on the instrument on her lap, trying to figure out if she is holding down the accords the right way, but a moment later Harry’s hand covers hers on the neck of the guitar and he fixes her fingers on the strings until they are in the right position.

“Like this. Try it now,” he murmurs, his chin resting on her shoulders as she is standing between his legs, back leant against his chest. Flora has been begging him to teach him a few accords on the guitar and today finally brought the moment Harry would turn into her master.

The two of them are sitting on the bed, Harry only in his underwear while Flora is in one of his hoodies with only her panties covering the lower parts of her body. Harry came back from a week-long trip to New York and they haven’t left the bed too much since he set his feet inside the house, only emerging from the bedroom to fulfill their other physical needs.

Flora’s fingers strum against the strings and the instrument comes to life, giving her a clear accord finally, bringing a triumphant smile to her lips.

“You are a natural talent, baby,” he smirks, giving her hips a gentle squeeze before kissing into her neck.

“Don’t tease me, I’m trying!” she warns her playfully, playing the chord again, loving how she can create such a beautiful sound with the instrument.

“Mm, you’re coming for my career?”

“Oh, surely. I think I would make an excellent rockstar,” she nods confidently, making him laugh.

“You are so not the rockstar type. More like the chill indie singer who dances barefoot on stage.”

“Yeah, but I could spice it up a little and make it rockstar-y,” she explains and glances back at him over her shoulder. “Don’t you think I would look hot in one of your stage costumes? Sparkly suit and all?”

“Oh I know you’d look amazing,” he nods eagerly. He has spent quite some time imagining her girl in one of his suits and he quite liked the thought. Flora chuckles as he puts the guitar aside before she turns around and straddles him, her knees on each of his sides.

“Yeah? I would need a better name, mine is not too fitting for a star,” she explains. “Easy for you, your name is basically the most perfect name for a rockstar.”

“You think so?” he cocks an eyebrow at her, his palms coming to cup her bum as he tilts his head backwards since this position makes her the taller one for a change.

“Harry Styles? Oh please, it’s like Anne knew she would give birth to a legend,” she scoffs making him laugh.

“I’ve been told it’s a nice one,” he shrugs smugly. “I think it’s the surname.”

“It’s pretty cool, yeah.”

“What if you had the same? Flora Styles? Sounds pretty badass,” he suggests and at first, she doesn’t even realize the hidden meaning behind his words, tasting the name so obliviously.

“Flora Styles? You might be right, the surname sounds very cool,” she agrees and it amazes him how easily it went over her head.

“You like it?”

“Mhm,” she nods, her hand reaching for the guitar once again, but Harry stops her, taking it between his as he blindly finds her ring finger that is now ringless.

“Do you like it enough to actually take it?” he questions, hoping she would get the hint now where this is heading. She blinks at him a little puzzled but it’s until she realizes that his fingers are fidgeting with her ring finger, more specifically where a ring would sit on it, his fingertips gently caressing the skin around it.

“Harry?” she gasps with wide eyes as she just watches his grin grow wider. “This is not… Are you--?”

“What?” he chuckles, feeling entertained how she lost all her smug confidence all of a sudden. “What’s it that you’re trying to say?”

“No, what is it that you are trying to say?!” she snaps back, still in shock about what he just implied. “Was this your sneaky way of… proposing?” she asks, whispering the last word as if it was a curse word.

“Why do you act like we have a forbidden love and marriage cannot be even mentioned?” he chuckles at her.

“Because I was shocked! Not that bad now though, you haven’t pulled out a ring so I guess it was just a cruel joke.” She narrows her eyes at him, kissing his smug grin shortly, but Harry is definitely not done with her just yet.

“I wouldn’t be that sure about it, baby,” he warns her before gently pushing her off her lap to get off the bed. Flora’s eyes widen as she follows him walk to his suitcase that’s still lying on the floor next to his dresser, waiting to be unpacked. He digs under his clothes before pulling out a small velvety box, making her gasp immediately. Harry gets back on bed as he holds out the box in front of her on his palm, not opening it just yet.

“Did you buy that in New York just this week?” she asks with her mouth hung open.

“I didn’t. I’ve had it for about a month, I just took it with myself because I was afraid you’d find it,” he chuckles as he plays around with it between his fingers. “Have been planning on it for a while, but I couldn’t come up with anything so then I just decided to wait for the right moment and go with the flow,” he explains.

“And this is the right moment?” she questions, her heart beating in her throat as her gaze is switching between Harry’s green eyes and the box in his hand.

“Felt like it, yeah,” he nods, the corners of his mouth curling up.

Silence settles between them as they both just wrap their heads around the weight of the moment. Harry’s heart flutters in his chest, a little afraid it’s too early. They’ve been dating a little over two years now, marriages have been tied way earlier in a relationship before, but Harry feared Flora would feel it too rushed just yet, however the question is out there now. Or is it?

“Well, are you gonna ask it?” she questions and as Harry’s eyes flicker up to meet her gaze, he is met with that playful challenge in them that he adores so much.

“I just asked,” he mutters.

“No, you asked if I would take your name. That’s not a proposal,” she reminds him and he realizes she is right. He never actually asked the big question.

So he finally pops the lid open revealing the vintage diamond ring he bought a month ago when he was just out and about. The moment his eyes laid on the jewelry, he knew it’s the one he’d like to see on your finger and bought it right away.

“Floortje Hoven, will you marry me?” he simply asks, his dimples digging deep into his cheeks as he smiles widely at his lover.

“I will,” she nods, her heart hammering in her chest as she watches him take the ring out of the box and carefully put it on her once empty ring finger. Still holding her hand, he brings it up to his lips, pressing a soft kiss to the ring before leaning in he connects his lips with hers.

Thank you for reading! Please like and/or reblog if you enjoyed!

#harry #styles #harry styles #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fanfic #harry styles imagine #harry styles fluff #harry styles au #harry styles x oc #harry styles x you #harry styles oneshot #harry styles one shot

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stuckwith-harry · 3 years ago

Text

Hide-and-seek

A/N: Oh, to be a chicken in times like these. (CW for discussion of death, nothing graphic.)

In the chicken shed it might as well still be the eighties, as though time had only gone on for the humans living in the house on the other side of the fence, but not in here, where the hens are quietly clucking and cooing and enjoying their naps, until Ginny shakes a handful of lettuce in the air like an invitation, a beckoning – then they come hurrying towards her, beaks tearing greedily at the green leaves.

When the hens have had their fill, Ginny looks over the gaggle of bickering ladies and finds her favourite amongst them, Genoveva with her warm brown feathers and clever eyes, who yells and shrieks when Ginny lifts her up by her impossibly soft belly, crouching down in the chicken shed, and pulls the disgruntled hen to her chest.

“Look, I’ll make it up to you”, Ginny tells her quietly. She fishes sweetcorn out of the front pocket of her dungarees and holds her open palm out to Genoveva, not flinching or grimacing when the sharp beak leaves little red marks on her skin as the hen gulps down her treat.

Ginny smiles.

The summer after her first year, she climbed into the chicken shed every day. She was soothed, then, by the arrhythmic clucking and the smell of fresh hay and the fact that the hens allowed her to share their company, that they did not recoil in horror at her sight.

It was her that named them, while she sat here for hours and hours with a chicken in her lap, more often than not Genoveva, who, for all her complaining, was easily the most patient of the bunch, and who nestles into her lap now, blinking slowly in the twilight while Ginny strokes her feathers, the burning inside her ribcage dull and pulsating like that of an infected wound.

Like it was her that took the damn Killing Curse to the chest.

“You’ve no idea how lucky you are”, she mutters, meeting Genoveva’s sharp eyes. “Nothing in those little heads of yours except earthworms and soft hay.”

She sits there for ages and ages like she did that summer, willing the comfort of the soft animal to sink into her like warmth. When she finally gets up to leave the chickens be, she tosses the rest of the sweetcorn into the hay (Genoveva looks utterly betrayed), fills up the grains in the feeder, and climbs out of the shed with the smell of warm feathers and wheat straw still in her nose.

“Chicken-feeding duty?”, calls a voice from near the house as she swings her bare legs over the wooden fence and strolls back towards the Burrow. When she looks for the voice’s owner, she discovers Ron, sitting on the weathered bench below the kitchen window.

“What’re you doing out here?”, she calls out as she comes closer.

“Hiding”, he says dully. “Mum’s crying again.”

Ginny feels something inside her chest take a tumble. “Is anyone with her?”

“Yeah, I’m not that much of a dickhead. Dad and Percy and Bill are all in there.”

“You’re not a dickhead”, Ginny says automatically, surprising them both. Then: “Mind if I stay?”

He shrugs. “Be my guest.”

So she sinks on the bench beside him, joining him in his grim silence. They gaze aimlessly over the soft green hills all around, the shape of the lake like a blue thumbprint in the landscape, where they whiled away so many happier, warmer days than this, and Ottery St. Catchpole’s mismatched roofs in the distance, smoke rising from the chimneys.

Ron finally looks over at her. “Were you with the chickens this whole time? I thought you’d grown out of your obsession with them.”

Ginny musters up a grin. “Never. I love those stupid hens. That was just an elaborate ruse so I could hide in the chicken coop when we used to play hide-and-seek. It never occurred to any of you to look.”

“Well, you stopped growing at about five feet, I figure you fit right in.”

Ginny whacks him in the knee. In a true testament to the severity of the situation, Ron does not retaliate.

She tells herself it’s that, not how much they aged him, the few short months that he was gone.

It’s less blatant now that Mum has shorn back the unkempt mop of hair that was falling into his eyes and growing down the back of his neck like wild weeds when he walked through the secret entrance of the Room of Requirements with Harry and Hermione; now that he’s shaved the patchy stubble on his cheeks and his face has regained a little fullness. But sometimes she still looks at him and wonders how ten years have not passed since she watched him slip away into thin air at Bill and Fleur’s wedding.

“Did anything happen?”, she asks. “With Mum?”

Ron shrugs, expression blank. “Some fool said his name again. I never noticed how rarely we actually said the twins’ individual names until we had to break the habit of saying Fred-and-George all in one go. It’s like he’s Voldemort.”

Ginny doesn’t laugh.

“I know”, she mutters. “Don’t think it’ll ever come naturally.”

He nods mechanically. “Anyway – I made a run for it. I just couldn’t do it right then, having to comfort her and everything.”

Ginny looks over at him. “Funny, you’re so good at it.”

“You just say that because I make the best tea.”

“Well, you do.”

The same way that children can recognise each of their family members by the sound of their footsteps as heard through a wall, or the rhythmic pattern with which they knocked on the door, the Weasley siblings have learned to read each other’s silences since they’ve come home. Often now, they appear at each other’s bedroom doors at all hours of the night, shaken from nightmares or too restless to sleep or, rarely, weeping.

Most nights, two or three or four of them eventually find themselves in the kitchen, where Ginny turns on the lights, and Ron puts on the kettle, and they sit there and while away the small hours in each other’s company, in silence, in quiet understanding, in murmured chatter about nothing at all. It’s good comfort, the idea that even after everything, there’s nothing in this world that a hot cup of tea can’t fix.

Ginny shifts on the bench next to him, pulling her knees to her chest. “Remember when that fox got one of the hens? I was inconsolable, and you were so nice to me when we put her in a shoebox and buried her behind the house, you didn’t even make fun of me.”

“You lot are different, that’s easy. I just can’t take it when it’s our parents.”

Ginny hums in understanding. “I think seeing Dad cry was worse for me. At the memorial.”

“Cheers, thanks for bringing it up again.”

She snorts.

“You’re good with Harry”, she says softly. “D’you miss him at all?”

He rolls his eyes. “He just sleeps two floors below me, it’s not like he died.”

Ginny winces.

Ron does not miss the look on her face or the heaviness of her silence, as they have all learned to do, and asks in an unnaturally light tone: “How’re you coping with him waking up three times a night?”

He seems relieved, for a moment there, when she smirks.

“It’s not too bad, actually. At least he makes for a great pillow.”

Ron looks appalled. “What the hell happened to the camp bed?”

“Oh, we just keep that around for decoration now.” She grins, comforted by the opportunity to tease him. “And he doesn’t wake up as much anymore.”

His face lights up. “That’s good news, at least. Lead with that next time.”

“Oh, he’s just … stopped going to sleep altogether.”

“That really solves that problem”, he says darkly. “The idiot.”

“I don’t think it’s purposeful”, she says. “He’s always pretending to be asleep when I look at him, but I can always tell. And when he does doze off, I’ll just stir next to him, and that’s enough to wake him up again.”

“He’s a really light sleeper these days”, Ron says apologetically. “The worst camping trip in the world will do that to a person.”

Ginny grins faintly. “Yeah, he’s mentioned it.”

“He’s talking, then?”

“Hm-hm.” She wraps her arms a little tighter around her legs. “Which is good, I guess.”

He watches her for a minute, as though unsure what to make of her tone. “Anything on your mind?”

She laughs. “Anyone ever told you you’re turning into Mum?”

“Well, we’re here anyway!”, Ron says, ears flushing. “Spit it out, will you?”

“He, uhm –”

It has not occurred to her, until right now, how difficult it would be to pass the story on, even to someone who has heard it before. Harry handed it to her because she asked him to, and still it knocked into her like a wild animal, pouncing, the weight of it like a Hippogriff standing on her chest, pinning her to the earth.

“He told me about walking into the Forbidden Forest.”

“Ah”, Ron says hollowly. “No wonder you’re hiding in a chicken coop.”

She looks around at him. “It’s not Harry I’m hiding from.”

“But you are hiding”, Ron says wisely.

Ginny shrugs. “I dunno what I expected. Somehow I’d convinced myself I already knew the worst of it. Which, as it turns out, was a bit stupid of me.”

She draws in a shaky breath.

“I thought he was in on it. Ever since I watched him come back to life at Hagrid’s feet … I thought there was some sort of plan. But there wasn’t, or Dumbledore didn’t tell him, anyway. I thought he knew he was going to survive, and it turns out that, uhm – he didn’t know shit. He went there to die, for real.”

Ginny looks back at him, words coming faster now. “And I’m – I’m so angry, and I don’t know why. Or who I’m angry with. It can hardly be Harry.”

“In all fairness, I kind of felt like punching him when he told us”, Ron says quietly, and her mouth briefly twists into something like a smile. “If anything we should be angry with Voldemort, or Dumbledore, even – but they’re not within punching distance, so what are you gonna do?”

“If Dumbledore wasn’t already dead, I would kill him”, Ginny says. “I swear, I would kill him.”

“Yeah, that sounds reasonable”, Ron says good-naturedly, patting her arm.

“And Harry – Harry keeps apologising, and I don’t know what for.”

Ron’s expression is pained. “Isn’t it obvious?”

“No.”

He sighs. She handed this to him, and now he is steeling himself to hand something back to her. She can tell.

“My best guess is … for not saying goodbye.”

Ginny does not look at him. Suddenly she is blinking rapidly in the fading light, sitting there as the blow rolls over her, something blunt and violent that should have broken her ribs like the impact of a Bludger; but there is no injury, only an ache that does not abate, that sits all around her, inside her. She doesn’t think it’s ever going to go away, all that hurting, writhing and straining inside her like a second skeleton.

“How could he have? We would’ve dragged him back to the castle by the damn hair.”

“Of course we would have”, Ron says robustly.

For a moment he looks like he’s going to reach out to her, hold her, maybe. He seems to think better of it in the end, and she’s almost relieved, dreading what she’d do if someone hugged her.

It’s another thing that won’t ever come easily: showing up on someone’s doorstep, weeping.

“If it’s any consolation”, he says after a while, “I think that’s the worst of it.”

“I’ve been wondering”, she mutters. “Can’t think of very much that beats walking to your own death. No fucking wonder he doesn’t sleep.”

“It’s funny”, Ron says, “I talked to him less than an hour ago, and he seems alright, almost.”

Ginny shrugs. “Isn’t he always? Remarkably functional, considering.”

Ron makes an attempt at a smile. “It’s such a Harry thing to do, though, isn’t it? Always dying for other people. Or trying to, anyway.”

“Hardly just a Harry thing, it turns out.”

It’s all shit, she thinks when he looks at her. Being the person knocking at the door, and the one listening on the other side, opening it.

“He told me about Malfoy Manor”, she says softly.

“Ah.” Ron kicks at the dirt to his feet. “Well, then you know what keeps me up at night.”

“He said – he said you offered to swap places with Hermione. Let Bellatrix have you instead.”

“And? You would’ve done the exact same thing for him.”

Ginny almost smiles. He might as well still be the boy who stuck stubbornly by her side next to the chicken fence all night, when she couldn’t bear to head back to the house, in case the fox ever came back.

“Yeah. I would have.”

It settles on her shoulders as quickly and unnoticeably as night, rapidly falling all around them: everything she would’ve done, in a heartbeat, in an instant.

“I would’ve taken the forest, too”, she says, more to herself than to Ron. “I would’ve done it all for him.”

It seems significant, somehow, that Ron does not resist this. That maybe he knows what it felt like, to Ginny, when they walked out into the courtyard and saw Harry.

That, too, felt like a Bludger to the chest: the sight of him, a kid in Hagrid’s arms, his glasses askew. How she wished it was her lying there, dead in his place.

“Those two”, Ron says abruptly. “Some day they’re really gonna be the death of us.”

Ginny almost laughs.

“So you won’t strangle him for abandoning the camp bed?”

Ron eyes her for a moment, a sort of benevolent sternness in his expression – and Ginny was right, that’s all Mum. “Yeah, I’ll consider it.”

“I’m sorry, anyway”, she says, half-smiling. “For costing you your roommate.”

Ron sighs. “They grow up so fast.”

“And for all this, too. You were trying to hide, I didn’t mean to …”

“It’s all right. You had to find me eventually.”

#hp #hp fanfic #fanfiction #ron weasley #ginny weasley #jessie writes #at this point if there's typos in this .... exchange 'em for cookies at the till #also i like desperately need a tag for these two but it'll be meta as all hell #brotp: i'm a can on a string you're on the end #told ya.

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silver-wield · 2 years ago

Note

Silver!!! This is killing me!! Those Cleriths dumb fucks are now saying TLOU threw a pink dress on a corpse chilling by some flowers to reference Aerith 🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣 Meanwhile Cloti got the cutest poster! 😭😭 You should go see the image of the corpse on Twitter! They say that's Aerith!! It's sooo funny!! They loooove to drag their fave!! I CAN'T 😂😂😂😂😂😂🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣😭😭😭😭😭😭

"Real" Easter egg? Because the poster that wasn't in the original game, but is in the remake and references ffvii remake isn't real?

Also, wtf is this insane moron talking about?

That's just a corpse wearing dungarees with their flesh rotted. Where's this so called dress and jacket she's claiming exists? What about this even indicates it's female?

Calli, seriously, just shut the fuck up and fuck off. We're all sick of your lies and you and your rancid mates have ruined not just the ffvii fandom, but every franchise with your obsessive need to bot polls and make every game about fucking Aerith. You don't even like her! You don't even play these games!

Just fuck off.

#slam debunk

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beatricethecat2 · 3 years ago

Photo

"Chill for a minute! You're making me nervous," Myka says.

"I'll not miss the performance because of a third-rate watchman," Helena huffs.

"Abigail said she'd sort this out."

"Abigail got us into this."

"She didn't slug him."

"He tackled me."

"You grabbed the book and ran."

"And I'd have succeeded were it not for that wandering child," Helena gruffs. "Who brings a child to theater?"

"You wouldn't have brought Christina?"

"Were she old enough and properly dressed, yes. That child was in dungarees."

"They probably came to see the exhibition not the matinee—"

"We're not dressed properly either," Helena grumbles, swiping dirt off a pant leg.

"Theater's not as formal as it used to be. And you did put your hair up," Myka says, flashing a feeble smile.

"And now it's mussed. It wasn't much to look at to begin with." Helena fusses with her bun.

"Hey, I think you look really nice," Myka says, reaching over, stilling Helena's hands.

"This is hardly theater attire."

"It's the Oregon Shakespeare Festival not the Met Opera."

"Attending the theater used to mean something." Helena's hands drop to her lap.

"It still does, but not corsets and gowns." Myka raises a brow. "Would you have worn a dress if this was a real date?"

"I very well may have. I'd certainly have made more of an effort."

"A nineteenth or twenty-first century effort?

"May I not embody both?"

"Yeah, but I'm just noticing you sort of default to the nineteenth when you're around me."

"And you disapprove."

"No. It think it's kind of sweet. I like that you don't have to hide who you are with me." Myka bumps her shoulder into Helena's.

"And to think, I once yearned to live in a future such as this. I'd no clue how exhausting it'd be being out of time."

"It'll get easier," Myka says, meeting Helena's unsure gaze. She leans towards Helena and Helena follows suit, their lips nearly touching when a door slamming in the distance halts the action.

"So, um...when's the last time you saw Shakespeare?" Myka asks, recomposing herself.

Helena thinks back. "Hamlet, in Stratford; Sarah Bernhardt as lead. We'd travelled specifically to see her, as it was unusual for a woman to play a male's part. She was her bombastic self, but watching Shakespeare translated into French was odd. I may have opinions about the American accent as well."

"Oh you will."

"Flipping through those gravures on display really took me back. Then the cabinet cards...are you familiar with those actors?"

"No."

"Such a shame," Helena says, pushing up from her slouch to sit upright. "Ellen Terry, she who worked so very hard to elevate the acting profession for women and men; Lillie Langtree, the beauty who pulled her reputation up from the mud through her craft; Violet Vanbrugh, locked in competition with her sister for the spotlight...celebrities, one and all, yet seeing them now, they feel like lost friends."

Helena sighs deeply and looks away. "When I snatched the book, my mind was no longer present. Hence the guard getting a jump on me."

"It's going to work out," Myka says, flashing a comforting smile.

"How exactly is Abigail remedying this? I heard little of your hushed conversation earlier," Helena says, narrowing her eyes at Myka.

"She's convincing them to put it back so we can swap it with a copy she's sending."

"Could she not have done so previously?"

"With Artie out of town, she's scrambling to keep up."

"How exactly is she convincing them?"

"She's, um..." Myka looks down at her lap and adjusts her wrist watch. "Do you actually need to know?"

"I do now," Helena says, swerving in her seat to face Myka.

"She's posing as your therapist."

"And I'm a babbling idiot."

"No...our pitch is you're obsessed with Victoriana."

"Convenient," Helena grumbles, crossing her arms over her chest.

"Do you want to see the play or not?"

"What do you think?"

"I think we wouldn't be here at all if Abigail hadn't asked us to snag volume nine of 'The Illustrated Library of Shakespeare.' And I think she'll fix this for now so we can see a play like two normal people who see plays. We'll worry about the book tomorrow."

Helena's scowl stays firmly in place.

"I'll make it up to you tonight at the hotel," Myka says, eyes pleading.

"Placating me for performing the Warehouse's bidding is not in the least desirable—"

"Ooh, look, he's coming out," Myka says, patting Helena's leg as she rises to talk to the head of security. "Stay here."

Helena stays put but her scowl grows all consuming.

-END SCENE-

------------------

Bering and Wells: Field Trip ("Warehouse 13" Season 5 replacement) Season 1: Episode 7 Title: Oregon: To one thing constant never

Summary: With Warehouse staff stretched thin, Myka and Helena are asked to dash from Myka's parents to The Oregon Shakespeare Festival. The pickup hits a snag when Helena, lost in memories, bungles the retrieval. Emotions run high when Helena reveals an unshakable impulse that threatens their newfound bliss.

Previously: Episode 1, Episode 2, Episode 3, Episode 4, Episode 5, Episode 6

------------------

BONUS SCENE

The next day, in the parking in the lot of the festival, freshly off the phone from the Warehouse, Myka turns to Helena.

"Artie's booking us a flight. He wants us to bring the book in person—"

"We are not altering our plans again," Helena sneers. "He can pick it up from us."

"I think he needs it sooner," Myka mumbles. "It'll be quick, just a day or two. Maybe we can push our bookings up?"

"As if that's worked in the past."

"True," Myka says, shoulders slumping as she sighs defeatedly. "Then we'll skip Mendocino and head straight to San Francisco from there. I'll grab some of my stuff since we might stay in the city longer." She turns the key, revving the car to life.

"I'll drive to Mendocino and meet you in San Francisco. You go on to the Warehouse."

"But Artie said you can come," Myka explains, looking over her shoulder, backing out of their parking spot. She puts the car in drive and moves towards the exit.

"There's no reason for me to do so."

"But you haven't met Abigail. Or Steve, really. Plus Claudia's dying to see you—"

"Myka, I can't."

Myka steps on the brake and turns to face Helena. "Is this a Regent thing? Because Artie wouldn't have said you could come if you couldn't."

"It's not a Regent thing."

"Then what?" Myka huffs.

"We've not time to discuss this now."

"Then tell me the abbreviated version."

A honk from behind jolts them both.

"Alright, alright!" Myka grumbles, pulling out of the parking lot and onto the road.

"You go on. I'll follow our plan," Helena says. "I wish to feel the land shifting underfoot, as if Elizabeth, Christina, and I had made our way through California in my own day."

"Wouldn't that have been on a train? Or a carriage maybe?" Myka asks.

"Is a car not the modern equivalent?"

"I guess," Myka says, her face the picture of concern. "You know, most of San Francisco was destroyed in the 1906 earthquake. There's not much left from back then."

"No matter. It's the spirit in which it's encountered."

"Then I want to 'encounter' it with you."

"Then have them pick the book up from us. You're not obligated to obey their every beck and call."

"I guess not," Myka says, frowning as she stops at a red light.

"Their prerogative led us to rush here, waylaying our plans," Helena presses.

"And the plays."

"Which we may have seen, in our own time, had we not been browbeaten into a retrieval—"

"We weren't browbeaten, we were helping Abigail—"

"The light's green."

"I see that," Myka grumps, the car jerking forward as she presses on the gas too hard. "So that's why you won't come with me? You're mad we came here in the first place?"

"It more than that. My relationship with the Warehouse must remain distant. Better if I retain none at all."

"How exactly is that going to work? Because I live there."

"I'd rather not discuss this while you're driving."

"Then I'll stop." Myka flips her turn signal and veers left at an intersection. She swings into a parking lot turns off the engine. "You said I'm your One. That we're partners."

"You are both of those things to me."

"But you can't come to the Warehouse, maybe ever? Explain." Myka shifts in her seat to face Helena as fully as possible.

"I've come to understand distance may be the only remedy for certain...triggers."

"What triggers?"

"Where to start?"

"Anywhere, really," Myka gruffs, holding onto Helena's petulant gaze.

"A hundred years in bronze weighs heavy on one's soul."

"You were fine there before."

"Was I?"

"You said it was your tether!"

"I'd have said anything to—"

"Gain access, dupe everyone, and destroy the world. I know." Myka scowls. "But you wouldn't do that again."

"That's no longer my vice," Helena says.

"Then what is?"

Helena looks off into the distance. "A secondary plan, utilizing artifacts catalogued since my bronzing."

"W-What kind of plan?" Myka says, her back straightening.

"One in which Christina would be returned to me."

"Wait, you tried again when you were there?"

"How could I not?" Helena laments. "I've hatched countless schemes since."

"But you said you'd made peace with not having kids."

"Moving forward. But I may never find true peace with Christina's passing. Apparently, it's not uncommon."

"How do you know?"

"At the precinct, after particularly gruesome cases, they conducted psychological evaluations. I'd breezed through most, but one in particular, concerning the death of a little girl, was difficult to shake."

"Oh, Helena." Myka scoots forward and takes hold of Helena's hand. "What happened?"

"I recounted my story, albeit heavily modified, and learned about triggers. Avoiding them entirely was an acceptable solution, so the Warehouse...but you? You were a conundrum."

"I was a trigger, too." Myka slips her hand from Helena's but Helena grabs it back.

"You remained a symbol of hope, of all that was good in this world. I ached to be near you but feared disappointing you again. When you turned up in Montreal, I was drumming up the courage to approach you."

"But you weren't there yet."

"I wasn't," Helena says, squeezing Myka's hand. "Asking you to separate yourself from your home, from your calling, was difficult to justify. But after hearing of your illness, nothing else mattered but being by your side."

Helena cups Myka's jaw and strokes her cheek with a thumb. "But I must protect myself, and you, from those demons."

Helena shifts closer and guides their lips together. Their kiss lingers until Myka's phone rings.

"Artie," Myka says, answering in an instant. "We can't come. We'll keep the the book safe until someone can pick it up—"

Myka moves the phone away from her ear at Arties loud volume.

"Ok, ok! But H.G.'s not coming. Put me on a flight."

Myka places her hand over the microphone and glances at Helena. "He said Mrs. Frederic's there and 'needs it yesterday'—"

She's interrupted by Artie chiming in.

"I'm not taking a flight with two connections because it leaves tonight! Put me on a red eye."

Grumbling emanates from the other side of the phone.

"Five-thirty's fine. Send me the details."

More grumbling, then silence. Myka hangs up the phone.

"Artie seems his usual congenial self—"

"I'm really proud of you," Myka blurts, turning to face Helena again.

"Whatever for?" Helena asks, head tilting, brow furrowing.

"For fighting your demons on your own. Though I wish we'd been doing it together."

"From now on, we shall," Helena says, meeting Myka halfway as she leans in for another kiss.

Hands reach across the console, twining in hair, groping at necks, arms, shoulders, as if the space between them is too great.

Minutes later, a tap on the window jerks them apart.

"Ma'ams, bank won't open again until 9AM," a man says as Helena rolls down the window. "I'm going to have to ask to come back tomorrow."

"Bank?" Myka croaks, scanning the parking lot, eyes locking on a glowing sign at its entrance. "Oh, bank."

"Terribly sorry officer. We pulled over to take a call before becoming...distracted," Helena explains.

"Just a security guard, ma'am. But I'd appreciate it if you move on. I didn't want to disturb you but my manager's going to wonder why you were here so long."

"Nothing nefarious, I assure you. We'd have been stealthier were anything afoot," Helena says with a wink.

"Helena!"

"Just reassuring the boy."

"We didn't mean to....we were just..." Myka stumbles over a more direct explanation.

"We've been granted one more night together before our separation."

"But we do have a hotel room."

"And mere hours before I'm to deliver you to the airport."

"True." Myka's lips push together, her face contorting into one of a new understanding. "Not enough hours. We should go."

"Thank you again for accommodating us," Helena says to the security guard.

"Um, sure?" he says as Helena rolls up the window.

"We'll make this work," Myka says, slipping a hand over Helena's thigh as she drives away. "I know we can."

"I adore your enthusiasm," Helena says, covering Myka's hand with her own, threading their fingers together.

-END-

-TBC-

NOTES: A quick reminder - this Christina is the daughter of Helena's original "One" back in the 1800's - Elizabeth. I think that story is in the second installment of this series. Also note this text probably pretty rough as I'm out of town and have sporadic internet (remember DSL?) and so haven't been able to use my usual text checkers (let me know if anything's super bad!) I'm putting it up now so I won't fuss over it as I'd like to not fuss over *anything* this week. Also, the first manip is one of my favorites - there's only one I can think of that tops it, but it's not public yet (I think you'll know when you see it.) Anyway, here are some of the people HG mentioned. And here are some of the amazing panoramas of the SF earthquake. Also Sarah Bernhardt - look her up, she was *quite* the character.

#BERING AND WELLS #w13 #fan fiction #roadtrip!AU #fan art #Myka Bering #Helena HG Wells #canon divergent #sorry this took so long to finish!#really happy to get this out there finally #I had to get my head back into it #going to try to get next one up sooner #as once the semester starts (in three weeks)#everything will be nuts for awhile #but we'll see once I'm back home and not on vacation!

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mollymauk-teafleak · 5 years ago

Text

Help Wanted (chapter two)

Huge thanks again to @minky-for-short and @spiky-lesbian! Please consider leaving a comment on Ao3 if you can!

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Chapters: 1 | 2

----

Anyone who came into the Blooming Grove cafe and smelled the unmistakable scent of a freshly baked cherry and strawberry pie would probably think that was nothing but a positive. That the busy chef must have been in a particularly good mood, to fill the small space with such a fresh, sugary and all round lovely scent.

Beau knew better however.

She hadn’t puzzled out the reason why but she knew that cherry and strawberry pie was something Caduceus only made when he was stressed out. She’d smelled it a lot during his shaky first few months, when no one was really sure if the cafe had a future, before people realised the special kind of magic Caduceus imbibed it with that made people feel so at home when they were inside it’s walls. She also smelled it whenever Cad came into work holding a letter, always the same paper, always the same handwriting though she could never make out any words.

And she wouldn’t. She wasn’t a snoop. She just didn’t miss much.

Though she was pretty sure it had something to do with the very large family Cad would talk about often but whom she never saw visiting or calling or anything. Just those letters, one every few months, that would send Cad into a stress baking haze churning out pies but he’d keep it in his apron pocket like he was scared to let it out of his sight.

But today there was no mystery to why there was suddenly a slice of thick, red oozing delightfulness being set in front of her, dusted with sugar with fruit like shiny garnets. It was because of Fjord.

Beau smirked and dug in with her fork, watching Cad zip back and forth across the cafe like an anxious bee. It was just him and her in the cafe right now, it didn’t open for another two hours. Lucky she woke up so early to do her tai chi in the park with her girl. Well, one of her girls. Getting Jester out of bed before ten was a triumph, Yasha was much easier to coerce.

“If you clean up before he gets here, your new assistant ain't going to have anything to do,” she pointed out, around a mouthful of fruit and sugar.

Caduceus jumped guiltily, “I’m just...just doing odds and ends. I want to be able to show him around.”

Beau wasn’t sure how true that was. Everything about Cad except his words showed how unsettled he still was with the idea of being a two person team.

She rolled her eyes and jabbed her fork at him for emphasis, “Look, we know this place is your baby. We know what it means to you. So we absolutely would not have suggested Fjord if he wasn’t going to be perfect for the job! He’s obsessed with being competent, he’s chill with taking orders, he’s a people person, annoyingly organised, fuck this pie is really good, did you do something new?”

“Touch of balsamic vinegar,” Cad said absently, scratching at the little pink wisps of a beard that grew in when he didn’t trim it, “I’m not saying I don’t...he’s your friend so I want him to be my friend too, I’ve got every faith he’s a good guy but…”

“But you’re nervous,” Beau picks the words up for him, “And that’s fine. But you’re going to give this a shot, get used to it, see that it’s a great idea and everything will be fine. Seriously, I think you and Fjord will really get along.”

Cad’s ears flattened against his head and his eyes were big and doubtful, “I’m not so easy to get along with…”

Beau frowned at that, about to protest, when the bell above the door rang out, the door pushing back almost shyly, like it was scared into interrupt. And then there was Fjord, looking slightly more sunburnt and grizzled than he had the last time Beau saw him, dressed in the same ratty hoodie he used to have back in high school. His hair was in the same style, still short and shaved underneath, though part of it had turned white and he’d clearly not been cutting it while on that ship of his. Though he’d found the time to file his tusks down, they were barely visible.

“Hey man!” Beau jumped down and rushed to give him a quick hug and sock him in the arm, “Look who washed up ashore…”

Fjord laughed, aiming a punch in return that she dodged easily, “Well you’ve not changed at all. Such a shame. And this must be Caduceus…”

Beau turned to make her introductions and explain why the scruffy salt smelling individual was the hard worker she’d promised when Cad’s face stopped her. His ears were bolt upright now, jaw a little slack, a very obvious blush even under his grey fur. And his tail was whipping from side to side at a million miles per hour.

Beau smirked, pleasantly surprised. This was starting to look like a two birds, one stone situation.

“Yeah, it is. Fjord, meet Mister Caduceus Clay.”

You’re acting like a teenager.

Cad had told himself that half a hundred times in the last hour and it wasn’t doing any good. His heart was still going like a Madagascan sunset moth finding a grove of Omphalea plants, his face was ridiculously warm and he was going to have to tuck his tail into his dungarees if it didn’t stop or he was going to break a mug.

Yes, Fjord was handsome. Almost ridiculously so. Now he’d acknowledged that, he could move on and refocus on the extreme anxiety he’d been nursing since yesterday that his cafe was going to collapse and he’d broken all his promises to himself and he’d have to go back home with his tail between his legs. That, at least, had been productive.

“Okay, so this is where I keep all the flours,” he continued, showing the half orc around the kitchen, “I, um...I haven’t labelled any of them because I just had them memorised, I’ll fix that…and I’ll have to write down the recipes they go with too, I just memorised those as well…”

Fjord seemed a little alarmed, “Um...yeah, that would help, I think.”

“Have you ever baked before?” Cad asked, leaning against the stainless steel surface, nicked and scaped by years of use.

Fjord sucked on his lower lip, “Well, I know how to make ship rations taste semi okay? But I don’t think that counts as baking.”

Cad had to chuckle, “No but it does sound like a useful life skill. I’m kind of aiming for a higher caliber than ships rations around here.”

“I’ll say, that pie Beau was eating looked to die for.”

Cad felt his ears pick up, “Oh would you like some? I made, um...five this morning. No reason, I just felt like it.”

He was already moving before Fjord could answer, putting a slice on a nice plate, plenty of cream. His new assistant did look distinctly skinny, like he hadn’t been eating properly. They’d need to sort that out.

Fjord seemed bemused at the sudden appearance of a dessert, smiling crookedly, “Thanks! Looks really good.”

“So maybe I’ll focus on the food prep for a little while and you can handle the front of house until you get more comfortable in the kitchen,” Cad tried not to look like he was hovering, waiting eagerly for Fjord’s reaction to his food.

He wasn’t disappointed. Fjord’s eyes widened and he grinned, showing a pair of filed tusks Cad hadn’t noticed before.

“Wow! This is amazing!” he had the most lovely accent, from somewhere in the South, twanging and drawling in places, wandering like a hard to follow path, “I must say, I’ve never eaten anything as nice as that!”

You’re acting like a smitten teenager, stop it. Stop blushing!

“I don’t know about that,” he cleared his throat, tangling his hands in the strings of his apron, “But you’re very kind to say so.”

“I think I’m gonna like working here,” Fjords’ grin was lopsided and full of cheek, just as a dashing pirate’s would be. Then suddenly it faltered, like a curtain had ruffled in the breeze and revealed something completely different, scenery turning out to be nothing but a backdrop on a stage, “I mean, if you’re going to hire me.”

Cad found himself smiling, something stirring in his chest, something separate to the silly crush that had landed so suddenly in his lap, “Any friend of the Nein is my friend too. And I think I’d quite like to work with a friend.”

Fjord tilted his head to one side, looking delighted, “Y’know, that sounds mighty fine to me too.”

Cad’s fur puffed up around his neck, like it did when he was happy. Or startled.

“Yes! Okay, I’ll take you through the plant care schedule. That’s probably the most important thing.”

Fjord looked like he didn’t understand, eyes drifting over all of the greenery in the place. Even in the kitchen there were succulents in the window, the ivy running through the ceiling and the myriad of fresh vegetables and herbs in the greenhouse out the back door that Cad had managed to cram in their tiny courtyard (with a little magic assistance).

“Plant care? Don’t you just...water them?”

Cad started at him for a heartbeat then burst out laughing, Fjord’s expression only getting more confused.

He was going to enjoy it. But it was going to be hard work.

They were halfway through their first day as a two man operation and things were going rather well, as Cad was sternly telling whatever flickers of anxiety still flitted in his chest.

He was in the kitchen, gloves of flour and water pasted up to his elbows, rolling out rough into podgy rectangles. His ears flickered and tail swayed in time with the music, but his ears were listening to something else. Fjord’s voice, still a little jarring to hear when he wasn’t used to it, out at the counter, taking orders and calling them out. He flirted shamelessly, he charmed, he joked and laughed. Beau had been right, he was a people person. Cad had no doubt the tip jar would be bursting at the seams when he next checked it.

“Hey, Caddy!”

Cad turned from his dough to see Fjord in the doorway. His spare apron was clearly too big for the half orc, nearly touching the floor, but he hadn’t had time to make one for him. Tomorrow, he’d do it, now he knew his size.

Even so, with a cloth poking out from the pocket and a pad of paper in his hand and a little pencil behind his ear, Fjord almost looked like he belonged.

“This nice lady’s asking for chamomile and apple tea,” he called over the chatter from the customers beyond, “Whereabouts would that be?”

Cad gave an apologetic smile. Another thing that was apparently unlabelled were the nearly hundreds of tea tins that sat in haphazard rows, making the place look like an apothecary. Something else he needed to do. And maybe he’d actually have the time to now.

“Third shelf down, fourth tin from the left,” Cad closed his eyes to picture it, just to make sure he got it right. Some of the things in those tins were more...experimental blends. He couldn’t imagine them going down very well.

“Gotcha,” Fjord flashed him that grin again, “Thanks Captain.”

“I told you, you don’t have to call me that,” Cad called after him, laughing.

You really, really need to stop.

But the strange thing was, the voice was getting quieter every time. Part of Cad was wondering why he had to stop at all. Wasn’t this part of the reason he’d left the grove- the actual grove? He’d wanted freedom, to see how it felt to be Caduceus rather than just a Clay. He’d wanted some control over his own life and choices.

Maybe there were some choices he hadn’t even known he’d get. Possibilities he hadn’t considered.

Now Cad was smiling as he rolled out his squares of focaccia, ready to sprinkle with cracked pepper and salt and herbs. He’d make an extra for Fjord to take home, maybe he’d like that. Suddenly he wanted to know everything about him, his tastes and likes and dislikes, what he did in his spare time, what he looked like just out of bed.

He was definitely acting like a smitten teenager in the spring. But he didn’t think that was such a bad thing now.

The rest of the day went alright. There were bumps in the road, of course. A tray of croissants got burned when Fjord lost track of himself bussing tables but he was incredibly apologetic and offered to remake them. Not that he had the first clue how to shape them. But maybe Cad could show him?

But it had been an incredibly busy day of rare sunshine and clear skies and Cad didn’t feel like he was running on empty at the end of it. That was certainly a success of some sort.

Members of the Nein had been coming in ones and twos all day to yell in delight at the sight of Fjord, home again. It was nice to see, a missing piece coming back to where it was supposed to be, fitting in like it had never been away. It sat a little melancholic in Cad’s chest, for a reason he was very aware of but didn’t want to think about so he’d pretend he didn’t know. But then he’d get swept up in it, Jester or Molly or Veth bringing him over to share in the happiness and he would feel so much better.

Those had been bright spots in the constant tide of conversation that flowed through the Grove. And now Caduceus was wiping down the surfaces in the kitchen, Fjord out front handling the last of the customers, mostly people swinging by to pick up something for their dinners. The light was heady and orange again, all the light and none of the warmth as the end of the day brought cooler breezes than before, chasing away the lingering heat.

And Cad’s ears picked up again as the conversation changed, as Fjord’s voice changed from the customer service voice he’d easily slipped on that morning. And Cad followed eagerly, only realising when he got to the doorway of the kitchen that there were no members of the Nein left to come see Fjord.

Instead there was an elven woman behind the counter, immediately stunning in appearance with her fountain of red curls, impressive even with them tied in a knot at the nape of her neck. Standing there she seemed so sure, effortless, her posture somehow arrogant and challenging. She was dressed in sea colours, a long scarf wound once round her neck and loosely draped over her shoulders like a snake and her hat would have been ridiculous on anyone else who didn’t wear it with such simple confidence.

Cad’s ears picked up at their continued conversation, Fjord speaking. From behind, he seemed tense, like something had set him on guard.

‘You don’t have to be a jerk, Avantika,” Fjord was saying, “I actually had a really good day. I think I like working here.”

“Well,” the elf’s voice was liquid gold, her accent very different from Fjord’s, “It’ll do. We’ll get you back on the waves soon, dear. No need to convince yourself.”

“I’m not…” Fjord’s voice hardened but then he seemed to decide it wasn’t worth it, letting go, “I’m going to close up then I’ll be back at your place. Thanks again for...for letting me stay.”

“Pleasure’s all mine, dear,” the woman seemed to always have other words lurking behind the one’s she spoke, “Don’t be too late. I’m not in the mood to wait up.”

“Right,” his reply was short and clipped, still in the tone of not wanting a fight.

And then he leaned forward, over the counter, and kissed her. Not a long kiss and Fjord’s shoulders stayed tense but there it was. And Cad fled back into the kitchen.

“Remember, don’t be late,” he heard her reply and the click of boots on the wooden bloor, the bell ringing out her departure.

Fjord came in a little while later, apparently not noticing that Cad had been wiping down the same four workbenches for nearly fifty minutes.

“Okay, that’s eight,” he said brightly, like the exchange had never happened, “Gonna teach me how to clear up?”

Cad looked up, his smile thin and tired, “You know, I think I’ve filled your head with enough today. We can cover that tomorrow, why don’t you head out early. I can take care of things here.”

Fjord paused, looking a little dismayed, “I mean...if you’re sure? I really don’t mind.”

Cad cut across his gentle protest before he could talk himself into staying, “It’s only your first day. I’m not looking to scare you off already. Go on, get a good night’s sleep and I’ll see you tomorrow morning.”

Fjord blinked, nodding slowly, “Right. Okay...um, thanks, Cad.”

Cad gave a nod and a non committal wave, turning back to his work.

“I really mean it,” Fjord unwound the ties of his apron, tied in the front just the way Cad had shown him, “I had a great day today and I learned a lot. Thank you.”

Cad made himself look up, really look at Fjord, standing in his kitchen doorway, flour on his sleeves and hair pushed back awkwardly with a bandanna. And he smiled, softer this time.

“You’re welcome, Fjord. I’ll see you in the morning.”

Looking happier, Fjord grabbed the bag he’d come in with and gave him a wave, heading out. And Cad still watched, still smiled. And he felt like an idiot.

I told you so.

#teahaw #fjorclay #pining #coffee shop au #slow burn #modern au #critical role #cr: fjord #cr: caduceus

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princeleyjeans · 4 years ago

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My problematic ass is back on the ddlg crap because with tumblr literally being hella hypocritical and NEVER removing those pain in the ass acc’s run by morons I cannot help but run into this trash and feel my early adult/late teen ways return even tho I am always the first to preach why it’s hella toxic and why everybody SHOULD NOT engage with this shite because it is just that, toxic af shite. DO AS I SAY NOT AS I DO ALRITE! Buuuuuuutttttt while I’m being a hypocrite, I just wanna talk about a crack idea for some halloweeny (hah....weenie) feels while also doing the whole LA cliche old man shstick: Typical divorce ending but instead of the full court papers and cut dry agreements, Mike an Amanda agree to those trial breakups where you see how things go being apart and if it’s worth the effort, you complete the thing, you fully end the marriage and go life your lives. Maybe it’s for closure or yogi type whatever, but Amanda’s like “Lets half divorce and see other people, if nobody wants us, we renew our vows and have a second honeymoon somewhere off the coast of Italy” Right off the bat, Amanda finds a decent guy and things look bleak for her future with Michael so like the shitlord he is, he shacks up with a much younger woman to knock down his soon to be ex wife's confidence however tables turn dramatically when this seemingly ‘normal’ woman encourages him to meet her ‘friends’ and he enters her place to find a webcam set up in front of a cutely decorated sofa and she’s head to toe in what is basically a 4 year olds weekend outfit (Like dungarees with the stars on them, stripey shirt, hair ties, pusheen socks, you know) and when he plonks down on the sofa she throws herself on him and waves to the camera, introducing Michael AS HER FUCKING DAD! “Hey guys! Look who finally came over!” ‘Turns to face M’ “Say Hi, Daddy!” Like she goes 0 to 1000 real quick and after the meet and greet the woman tells him it’s her ‘come down’ and ‘how she relaxes from being a grown up’ or ‘opens up to guys’ and at first Michael’s kinda--- “This could be okay” meaning he’s hoping she’ll be hella into roleplay/dressing up for bed. But instead of that he’s made to get involved in her social media side career and have videos/gifs made of them together (You know the kinda, tumblr 2014 when all the mood boards were Lolita or women being manhandled because it was the vibe....really, fucked up vibe) and obviously because he’s a...not decent guy but has SOME form of moral compass he tries to break things off but she completely loses it and takes out all her daddy issues on him because PROJECTING and Michael ends up having to call in the cavalry for help because alone he cannot shake this needy, pathetic, damaged woman so obsessed with her own problems she cannot see she’s literally dating every slight embodiment of her dad to quell the pain of growing up with a shitty parent who never gave a fuck. ...Is it cruel I’m laughing at the idea of a lifestream she accidentally leaves on and it’s just her rocking back and forth sobbing into Michael’s chest as he tries to comfort her, just begging her daddy not to leave and Frank, Trev, Lamar and Jim are all watching from the living room at M’s place like “...should we help?” I am a terrible person and I do not care rn XD

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blacktotheblueside · 5 years ago

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(Ex) Bobby

Summary: you just ready for bobby tah GO!!!! But he fine so you don’t know...

I was an actress that was challenging myself, I was obsessed with Korean dramas and wanted to play a part in one so my management brought me to South Korea around 3 years ago and in those years I was in a few kdramas, movies and in a public relationship with iKon’s one and only bobby. We’re currently broken up and it has just been released by none other than dispatch themselves, I’m sat with my management discussing how I’m gonna be bombarded with questions about my breakup and how I should handle it. I’m in a new drama as the main female lead and I’m going to be doing a ton of interviews he’s bound to be mentioned in a few.

I sigh as my team lay advice and all sorts. I’m very grateful I’ve been given this opportunity to act in Korea, I learnt the language when I first came and been working on it ever since hence why now I get more parts, this is the first time in one of the main characters. I just wanna focus on work but even while we’re broken up bobby still finds a way to be in my life.

~~~~

It’s 4am and my alarm goes off, I have sooo much schedules today. I don’t even try and dose off again like usual, I jump off the bed and get showered before my stylist arrives to dress me for the day...hair dressers, make up artist all that!

I’m dressed in a white baggy tee waiting for *KnockKnockKnock* they’re here.

We went with fresh faced makeup and my curly hair in a sleek low bun. For my outfit I’m wearing black skinny fit trousers and a white see through dress shirt, it’s baggy and it’s hanging off my shoulders teamed with a white bralette, yellow pump heels and yellow studs.

Inkigayo actor special mc w/ seo kang jun

Hello counsellor

Happy together foreigners working in korean entrainment

That’s all for today, I’m glad it was all shows where I won’t have to speak about bobby, all fun chatting.

~~~ Inkigayo ~~~

I walk through the corridor to get to my dressing room. I can speak korean but I still get so nervous before a show, I hate messing up! I have to get changed into something less formal, I go with a white dungaree dress with a pink off the shoulder top and pink high top converse. A long glittery chain for a belt and have my curls styled half up in a pony tail and the rest down my back.

I have 10 minutes left so I start making my way to the stage. I say hi at least 100 times on my way no joke, I bump into BTS on the way as the have a new comeback, I remained so calm I’m proud! I see kang Jun and we start chatting, we’ve met before at award shows and other tv shows, he tells me to not be scared and we head out and the crowd cheers!

We finish the show smoothly making me wonder why I was nervous to start with. I say bye to kang Jun and all the acts I see on my way out, bangtan we’re not there so I was a little disappointed I’m a huge fan of them. Next time I guess.

I’ve changed back into my first outfit and I’m on the way to my next schedule... I eat a famous inkigayo sandwich in the car while getting my hair re done and my make up touched up.

~~~ hello counsellor ~~~

I arrive just in time to say hi to all the hosts and guest...we make our way onto the set.

I’m a guest along with jay park and Jeonghan and scoups from svt. The boys show some of there new song. As for me they play a snippet of my new drama. They compliment my Korean a few times and ask about how I came over and started acting here.

Hello counsellor was so fun to shoot I got to role play with jay park on how to overcome an angry wife, I laughed and nearly even cried.

The show ends and I make my way to the car again. I change in the car thank God for tinted windows! I change into dark brown leather skirt and a light brown t shirt tucked in, with khaki sandal heels and earrings. My hair is in a high ponytail with my baby hairs styled (obviously by me)

~~~ happy together ~~~

This is the one I’m more excited for! I’ve always wanted to come on here. I make my way to my dressing room and now I’m already dressed and ready to go I’ve got time to kill, I am going out on a full stomach! I’m on my phone while I’m walking, my Social media all blowing up! I click on twitter to see my mentions all filled with articles of bobby.... curiosity gets the better of me, I see the headline “NETIZENS ARE QUESTIONING WHETHER iKON’S BOBBY AND ACTRESS Y/N ARE REALLY BROKEN UP AFTER BOBBY POSTS PHOTO OF A WOMAN’S SHADOW CAPTIONED WITH Y/N’S MOST FAMOUS LINE.”

I’m in the dressing room and I sit straight down before I fall or even worse get snapped looking at this!

I click the “read more” button and start skimming the article.

The picture is definitely me....what is he doing?! It was when we went on a date late at night near Han river, he snapped my shadow on the floor and the caption written in korean “it’s a butterfly”... omg it was a line from a movie I did, it was one of the highlights of the film as it was the tearjerker.

I don’t have time for this. My manager walks towards me and sits down ‘judging by your face you’ve seen the article.... don’t pay attention! Just go out there and pretend you’ve seen nothing’ he states. I nod slowly and sit there in silence, we broke up like nearly a month ago... why would he post this after not even trying to talk to me. Boys are so weird! I start playing games on my phone to take my mind off this distraction. I look at the time and see if I still have time for a snack bc of nerves, I don’t so I make my way to the couches. I stop and bow to the whole cast and sit on the seat, we’re all making small talk till it starts. In the interview they ask us foreigners about how we first came to Korea, how we learnt the language and first impressions of Korea when we first came. Another black person famous in Korea, Sam from Ghana was there we had so much in common. I laughed so much and we all had so much fun.

We spoke a bit about our work and I explained what my new drama was about and my character. We watched a little snippet again and some bloopers.

‘So y/n we hear you’re now single’ one of the hosts ask. Oh no....ok I’ve got this ‘yeah i am’ I smile acting like this isn’t bothering me at all. ‘Was that your first time dating a korean man?’ I nodded ‘it was’

Oohs and ahhs came from them all ‘so hows it different to guys back home?’ I think for a little bit ‘to be honest there’s not a lot of difference just the language difference I guess’ I say calmly. They nodded in agreement ‘were there any difficulties with the language barrier?’ I sigh to show them how exhausted I was in the beginning ‘oh yes, I couldn’t speak a lot of korean back when we first met. He could speak English though so I was good! But when I met his friends and family....’ I trail off a bit thinking about those times, No focus! ‘I was forced to speak so bit by bit I got better so it was awkward at first but it paid off in the end.... free korean lessons’ i say content with my answer. Sam pipes in ‘oh my I spent so much on korean lessons before I got into my first relationship!’ ‘Should’ve got in a relationship quicker’ I reply. We all laughed at his shocked face.

The show ends with a game where we guess a catchphrase by what the artist is drawing.

After the show me and Sam exchange numbers, he’s too funny to not have as a friend.

~~~~

I’m done for the day, I tell my manager I need food or else I’m going to collapse. We get pizza and fries, they drop me off home and I get undressed and ready for bed. I have a day off tomorrow so I planned to stay up late and watch my favourite shows but I’m exhausted. I hear my phone go off and it’s an unfamiliar number.... I pick up ‘hello?’ I hear breathing and just as I’m about to say hello again ‘hey y/n....’ bobby! After being together for so long I know his voice! After we broke up I blocked his number and got back to work... he probably changed it. ‘Hello?!’ Bobby says trying to see if I’m still there. ‘Bobby... what do you want?’ I get straight to the point, he sighs ‘y/n don’t...please... I just wanna see how you are! I watched you today on inkigayo’ is he being foreal? Calling as if we’re best friends catching up at the end of the day. ‘Bobby is there something you want?’ I’m tired ‘I-‘ I cut him off ‘I saw your Ig post, what was that for?’ I question. All I heard was silence, I had to pull the phone to my face so I could see whether the phone call had disconnected.

‘I wanted to talk to you...’ he started I stayed quiet he takes a deep breath ‘y/n I’m not gonna lie and say that this break up has been easy...’ oh no ‘...it really hasn’t! I just want you to give me...’ here he comes!!! ‘...one more chance’ he said it. I don’t know what to do, of course I still love him but we just to in love... so in love that we were just distracting each other from our jobs. ‘I... don’t think that’s the best option right now b’ I say quietly, I’m angry at him for ignoring me for so long and now he wants to pop up in his own time, when it’s convenient for him. ‘...I’m so busy these days... I don’t think I can handle a boyfriend, an ex at that.... right at this moment’ he sighs again, ‘you don’t think I’m busy too?’ He’s frustrated and quite frankly I don’t care ‘Don’t start with me bobby, you broke up with me, ignored me for how long and NOW you want me back?’ I state the facts to him. He groans ‘I know! And it was stupid of me, I made a dumb decision on impulse... and now I regret it every damn day!’

I re ask him ‘why did you upload that picture?’ ‘Because I wanted you to see it and the whole world to see that I’m not giving up on you, on our relationship! I don’t want anyone else’ my heart flutters a little and I hate him and me for being so weak to his sweet words.

‘I’ll think about it’ I tell him. ‘Don’t run and hide from me y/n!’ He says something I was sure I was gonna do ‘I won’t, I just need some time... this is too much for me’

‘I seen the trailer for your new drama.... I’ve been keeping up with you in the media, I’m proud of you’ I hear his smile through his words. I’ve been keeping up with him too, I won’t tell him that though ‘Thanks’ I whisper. After a few moments of silence ‘I’ll let you get to sleep now.... but don’t forget me, take everything I said into consideration.... I really want you back here with me baby’ omg I just want to forget everything and tell him to come here right this minute but that would be dumb. I just settle for a simple ‘ok’ we exchange good nights and I fall asleep really thinking about what’d it be like if we did get back together or were we better off separated.

Part 2 coming soon (black people timing)

#blackgirl #kpop scenarios #kpop black girl #ambw #ikon #ikon bobby #bobby #khh scenarios #kpop imagines #ikon imagines #ikon scenarios #ikon jinhwan #ikon bi #ikon song #ikon dk #ikon june #ikon chanwoo

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