#i thought it was a late lily at first (orange lilies common in this area) BUT NO!!! | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

missorgana · 3 years

Text

you shine, i'll shine for you

pairing: alina starkov/genya safin, background nina zenik/matthias helvar

fandom: shadow and bone (tv)

rating: general

word count: 5163

warning: referenced cheating, swearing

summary: Genya thought she’d seen it all, until today, where a young person her age rushes through the door and approaches her with a strange question, “What sort of flowers do you get to tell someone to go fuck themselves?” (flower shop au)

(a fluffy au that’s been loooong underway !! inspired by this post, naturally. had a bit too much fun searching up flower meanings as well so... hope you enjoy!)

read on ao3

Genya believes flowers speak their own language.

They show love, adoration, and everything in between, and there’s a reason they’re used for most special occasions, she thinks; although a staple gift when you barely know someone, they’re also an invitation to get to know someone better.

Like Nina and Matthias. It didn’t surprise her in the least that he wanted to ask Nina out, alas, he asked Genya for help on the bouquet, since he just started. The look on her friend’s face when she told her about their fast date was too precious.

And naturally, this is why she opened her little flower shop in the first place. She loved the area, homely and cozy, the atmosphere and the residents.

She’s helped their clients with gifts for any situation you could think of; a last minute anniversary gift, flower arrangements for that big fairytale wedding, the perfect Mother’s Day bouquet, and the businessman getting flowers for his beloved sister’s grave touched her deeply.

Genya thought she’d seen it all, until today, where a young person her age rushes through the door and approaches her with a strange question, “What sort of flowers do you get to tell someone to go fuck themselves?”

She’s simply baffled by the request.

The client’s got restless hands and fire in their eyes, dark hair in a braided bun and wearing a baby blue dress, neck and ears dressed with gold jewelry and a matching septum piercing. They’re almost glowing in the late autumn sun, to be completely honest.

In fact, they’re already reaching for their purse, while Genya tries to work through her confusion and do her best - this is an assignment like any other, she reminds herself, this is her job.

“Oh, uh, depends on the occasion, really…” she starts, and since the customer in front of her curses themself as they find their wallet, the clear anger on their face intensifying, she figures she’ll need to keep her cool, “If I may ask?”

In customer service you’ll have to deal with rude clientele, God knows Genya has, and although this person in no way seems like that type of person, she still keeps it a priority to not upset them anymore than someone else already has.

She smiles, giving them less of her staple customer service smile, more a hesitant smile because the client also sniffs, and wipes their eyes rather stubbornly before looking back at her.

They’re also more beautiful than sunflowers in bloom, that much is obvious. But someone’s hurt them, and it makes Genya’s heart ache for them with a stinging kind of certainty.

“Sure,” they reply, sniffling again, “My boyfriend’s cheated on me for the second time.”

Second time? Dear God.

Genya doesn’t even know this man, but she does know he’s an asshole, mind the language. She’s sure she must look shocked, because the client chuckles bitterly, clutching their wallet a bit tighter.

“I just need him to fuck off for good. It’s long overdue, really.”

She decides to smile again, nodding, hoping she’s conveying her sympathy right, “I understand.”

And since she gets a timid smile back, albeit still with clenched fists down their side, it makes Genya a little more sure of herself again. If the person wasn’t pretty before, they’re even prettier now. She mentally curses whoever this man is for making them this angry, and making them cry. No one deserves that, but especially not them, Genya thinks.

Luckily it’s a Monday, a slow day for flower sales, and they’re the only customer inside, so she’s reaching for her encyclopedia immediately.

“I do know a bit about flower meanings,” she explains to them, “It’s not common knowledge, but I got a few ideas.”

The client nods, satisfied, and their eyes turn a little less angry and more curious.

“What’s your budget?” she asks while flickering through the pages, and the person in front of her takes less than a second to answer, “The biggest you got, he- We were supposed to go to Paris, so I’ve been saving up. Got some money to blow.”

What a fucking douchebag. Again, excuse the language, but this really sounds like the sort of person who’s drink she would gladly spit in. She might be really excited for this bouquet, now. Serves him right.

Everything that jumps to her mind should be in stock, actually. Genya’s never had to look up negative meanings to the flowers before, admittedly, but she does find some scribbled notes in what appears to be Nina’s handwriting next to the black roses. Revenge roses. Okay, maybe a bit too sinister, but she’ll keep them in mind.

She finds herself moving out behind the counter before she knows it, and when she picks up the first bunch she notices her client looking over her shoulder in an adorable kind of confusion, so Genya speaks up, “These are yellow carnations, they signal disappointment.”

They nod again, the small smile on their lips growing just an inch brighter. Their hands seem more relaxed, she finds herself noticing.

“Perfect,” they approve, “Is there a hate flower, you think?”

The bluntness no longer surprises her, and since the client huffs at themselves, Genya returns the smile with more certainty. Fair enough, she decides.

“Yes, surprisingly enough,” she chuckles, “Orange lilies. I also have foxglove for insincerity?”

“Oh, definitely.”

“I thought so,” Genya likes this person, she decides, probably way more than she should for a complete stranger, but… can you blame her?

She likes the guts it takes to make a bouquet like this, to be honest. And it’s like they keep getting prettier and prettier the more Genya looks at them, is that crazy? Probably. Matthias would roll his eyes at her, but she and Nina both know how cheesy he actually is, so whatever.

This client is also getting a hate bouquet for a soon-to-be-ex, though, so she’s real with herself, she can’t allow herself to get attached or anything. Would be unprofessional, regardless, but she can admire them anyway, right?

“What else, what else…” Genya wanders a bit more, her client following in tow, she’s got the centerpieces, but the white of this flower would add nicely to the overall look, “Meadowsweet! It, uh, it stands for uselessness.”

The person in front of her lights even more up at the suggestion. She’s thrilled, because honestly, not only helping them but also maybe, possibly impressing this client is suddenly very important to her.

“Alright, I think that’ll do nicely,” she finally tells them, writing the names and price ranges down on her notepad. “Unless you want to add some geraniums, too?” The customer looks at the sample she shows them, biting their lip in contemplation.

“It’s beautiful,” they confess.

“It is,” she agrees, “But it also signals stupidity.”

They laugh at that, a ringing sound like bells or… butterfly wings, maybe. This is just about making Genya’s whole week right now.

“Yeah, I need those.”

And so it’s decided, and she returns to her counter with the notes and shows the client the different bouquet sizes. She figures they might need a card, too, “I don’t have any ‘Fuck you’ cards, unfortunately. Will a blank one be alright?”

They nod, more eager than ever.

“Actually,” they’re running their finger over the sheet with the sizes before looking back at Genya again, “I know this is a big ask, but I was gonna leave the bouquet at his office. Do you think… we could, maybe, cover his desk in these flowers?”

Yet another suggestion that has her standing wide-eyed.

The client chuckles at themself again and fumbles a strand of hair behind their ear, “I’ll pay whatever it costs, I promise. If it’s even possible, that is.”

Genya considers this, and well, it’s definitely possible, they’ve got enough stock for it. The same thing as decorating a chapel for a wedding, sort of, but on a smaller scale. It’s doable.

“I do think my delivery guy can carry it, actually,” she replies, hoping Matthias won’t ask too many questions, but oh well, “We would need entry to the building, though-”

“I have the keys.”

“Oh.”

This person is well prepared. Genya loves it.

“It’s just really a matter of how many bouquets will be needed…” she’s thinking hard, an office cubicle is what she imagines the client is talking about, not too hard to fill up, realistically, “20? Will that be plenty?”

They full-on grin, “God, yes. Make it 22. I, uh, I got cash.”

And so it’s sorted, and a promise of scheduling the delivery for Wednesday, said soon-to-be-ex’s next work day, is settled. Matthias delivers the flowers a little before 8, the customer lets him in and they carry the load together, foolproof plan, Genya’s sure. “This is his number, Matthias Helvar, if you have any trouble, running late or getting into the building, whatever it may be.”

“Thank you so much for this, seriously,” they’re smiling almost from ear to ear, and honestly, she’s a little embarrassed that making this particular person as happy as they appear to be is making her feel so… warm? “This is perfect. I cannot wait to see his face. And walk away.”

It’s a funny sort of bonding experience, or feels like it, less than a transaction.

Before the client leaves, Genya gets their contact information in return, and an excited wave as the doorbell rings them out. Alina Starkov, the card says, and she/they pronouns right underneath.

She wonders if she’ll ever see them again. She doubts it. But she hopes she’s wrong.

Genya does, in fact, see a particular client again, one that for some reason stays on her mind after the delivery is done and in the five weeks till she sees them again, embarrassingly enough.

Matthias didn’t ask a lot of questions, besides the wide eyes and then looking the happiest she’s seen him since Nina kissed him for the first time. He didn’t need convincing, to put it simply.

“Whoever this Alina is, they got some guts,” he laughed to her while they were packaging all those flowers for him, “Practically covered our expenses for the month.”

That’s true, it’s lovely, that pure luck that sometimes hits them like a flood.

She’s over the moon, but of course, she doesn’t mention the part of it being because of that person’s bright smile replacing dried tear stains, and how the change made Genya feel like she’s never done anything more important than making her happy. God, Safin, Nina is rubbing off on you.

The boy lets her know the delivery went smoothly, and that Alina thanked him profusely, but that’s as much as she knows before the bell rings on a late Thursday and Nina’s voice calls from the front of house and reaches to the back where Genya is currently cutting stems.

She dries off her hands in their signature lavender apron - credit to Nina for that, as well - you’d be surprised how dirty a day’s work can get, and Genya takes care not to ruin any of her many, many floral dresses. Yes, she wears florals only to work. Once again, sue her.

She’s not sure why her friend would need assistance, she rarely asks for it, yet, there she stands.

Alina Starkov gives her a smile once again, but it’s less timid today, in no way tearful, instead calm and curious. Like they’re happy to see her, almost.

“Genya! Hi!” she says, and she’s more than a little surprised, much like their first meeting. Did she ever introduce herself? “Sorry, I hope I’m not disturbing, I, uh, I told Nina how grateful I am for your help with you-know-who. Wanted to thank you in person.”

That’s just way too adorable, isn’t it?

She feels her smile growing without even controlling it, and the brunette next to her is definitely looking like she wants to ask some questions ( many questions), but she’ll have to wait, geez, Genya cannot be having a romance novel moment in her store of all places.

Realising she also has to collect herself while being in front of the client and her best friend, and not zone out because her inner hopeless romantic is firing up inside her, she decides to brush it off and try to act casual, somehow, “I’m just happy to help. I assume it went as planned, then?” “Better than planned, even. He’ll be regretting it for the rest of his life, I hope.”

Alina laughs, and Genya gets that warm flush inside her chest again. And out of the corner of her eye, Nina looks less curious and more just straight up smug. Damn her.

“I think Matthias is calling me,” is actually how Nina first speaks up, and while the client nods, like they’re away in thought, Genya sees right through her.

“I didn’t hear anything.”

“You didn’t?” her friend questions, tilting her head, already moving towards the door Genya just came through, “Oh, I did. Can’t leave him hanging, might be urgent.”

“Nina-”

“Back in a jiffy!”

She’s left alone with Alina. Which is fine, you know, they were alone when they first met, right- but listen, Genya is still very much thinking about the person saying her name and the realization that she is, of course, wearing a name tag hits simultaneously with another shock: she remembered her name.

Logically, that’s not out of the ordinary at all. Gosh.

But she knows it’s not because it’s a shocking experience and more that a person who’s as beautiful as them is smiling at her and that they might just be the prettiest person she’s ever seen and that the thought of making her happy is making Genya happy, believe it or not. She doesn’t understand why this is different from any of her other experiences, but it is.

She hasn’t seen a smile like theirs before, that she knows. It makes her feel all strange and bubbly, like drinking champagne.

However, Alina is speaking up again, so Genya desperately needs to get out of her head.

“I was actually… uh, wondering if you’re maybe able to help me out again?” she starts, looking a tiny bit nervous, “If you’re not busy, that is, oh my God.”

And maybe Genya shakes her head way too quickly, but sue her, “Not at all!”

The client grins, the blush in their cheeks surely must be from the cold wind outside, and it just makes them prettier, if that’s even possible. “You’re a lifesaver.”

Now, she’s gotten this nickname before. Of course those times weren’t from Alina, and she makes sure to hide just how flustered she’s becoming, shaking her head and swinging her hand, “Stop it. I’ll try my best, heh.”

Alina clears her throat before continuing, “My best friend’s coming home, I haven’t seen him in over a year, and… Do you have, like, friendship flowers? I wanna surprise him at the airport.”

Once again, the person in front of her is just downright adorable. It’s almost frustrating.

Genya chuckles, because she doesn’t need the encyclopedia for this request, and easily makes her way over to the roses.

The client looks over the bouquet she picks up with the very same joy as their first meeting. “Yellow rose is the friendship flower, actually! Usually put together with violets, but I can change it up if you want…?”

“No no no!” they hastily reply, already taking the offer of grabbing the bundle, looking down upon it with visible dimples and eyes shimmering with excitement, “They’re perfect. Mal’s gonna love them, I know it!”

“Ah, I hope so.”

She feels almost shy with all this flattery coming her way, especially from Alina, of course, and once more she thanks her just about five hundred times before hurrying out the shop, phone chiming in the distance.

Even after they’ve left, Genya still cannot believe they came back. And remembered her. Or like, specifically sought out her help, again. Huh.

Nina immediately peeks her head around the corner when the front door has shut, her face lit up like it’s Christmas Eve, “They seemed nice. And pretty.”

“Nina,” is all she can come up with, giving her best glare, while her best friend feigns innocence.

“Yes, Genya?”

“Don’t.”

“Don’t what?”

She sighs, “Just don’t.”

If Genya’s second encounter with Alina Starkov wasn’t surprising enough already, imagine her shock when she finds exactly this person entering her shop two months later. Events requiring flowers aren’t constant, which, again, is why she didn’t expect to see her ever again, but she’s not complaining, of course.

She’s working the counter when the door opening reveals Alina, their golden earrings present as always and her hair in two buns, wearing a cropped rainbow sweater and dungarees. Looking just as pretty as last time she saw them, oh God, that fluster’s coming right back.

Except she’s not alone this time. Alina’s got a taller stranger in tow, with curly hair, lip ring and pink floral shirt layered over possibly the most ridiculous graphic tee Genya’s ever laid her eyes upon.

Her recurring client waves when they spot her, heading straight to her, while their friend is almost spinning around in awe.

“Hello again,” Genya greets her, because fuck, she might just get excited over the mere sight of them. Meeting again. Is the universe trying to tell her something?

It’s an absurd thought that shouldn’t matter at all, get yourself together, she tells herself.

“Hi!” They seem even more excited than last time she saw them, and Genya wonders what the occasion could be before Alina continues, “How’ve you been?”

There’s that funny feeling again.

It’s kind of like a lump in her throat, this time, but still as bubbly and warm as before. It’s also just endearing for many different reasons, one being that she rarely gets customers twice, or thrice, and casual conversation is never as easy as theirs. She’s overthinking it, definitely.

“Busy, but good,” Genya tells her, and is about to return it, while remembering their companion, “You? And sorry, ah, I’m Genya.”

Alina’s eyes are like fireworks, almost, and she waves over her friend who’s entranced by the lilies. They’ve got a spring in their step as they make it over to them.

“This is Jesper,” they introduce them, and the tall stranger winks in greeting, “Jesper, this is Genya. I told him all about the shop, cause you’re like… the queen of flowers.”

Oh my God, why is she so sweet? It almost makes her feel embarrassed, the two of them looking at her as she imagines a blush rising just from the client’s words.

“Pleasure to meet you.”

“Right back at ya!” he replies, one hand in his pocket and another gesturing wildly in the air, “This is amazing, by the way. I see why Alina goes to you for stuff like this.”

Genya laughs, feeling strangely more comfortable and less nervous now. Still, she figures she should probably get to business, they wouldn’t have come here if they didn’t have a purchase in mind, right? As much as the compliments are much appreciated, Alina being the source of them is yet again making her slightly incapable of functioning normally.

She can only hope she’s improved at hiding crushes since high school, because, well… that is what this is. Genya can’t really lie to herself anymore, or pretend it’s nothing.

It’s making her slightly breathless, this person appearing and reappearing in her life.

But she does need to get over it, because as she tells herself every time, Alina is a customer and she is a salesperson. Her life isn’t a rom-com, as tragic as that may be.

“I hope your friend liked the flowers,” she said, not even needing to wait for a response as they lit up again and confirmed, dimpled smile and all, “Can I help you with anything today?”

Alina nods and hooks her arm with Jesper, “You know it. Friends of ours just got engaged, we wanna have a, uh… tiny celebration for them.”

“By that we mean surprise the shit out of them,” he follows with no hesitation, and Genya and Alina laugh, in syncron. Alright, that’s also totally fine.

“I’m sure we can figure something out for that,” she tells them. She figures flower meanings are less necessary this time around, and when she spots the bottle of champagne and heart shaped box in the client’s tote bag, she decides on a simple question, “Well, red roses are the classic. Most romantic. Do they have any favorite flowers or colors, and such?”

Jesper seems to be squinting in concentration, and Alina bites their lip. It’s quite endearing.

But the client’s eyes widen, then, and they blurt out with only a beat difference, “Pink!”

It comes out as a half-yell, actually, judging by the sweet elderly woman from down the block jumping in the other end of the shop, and Matthias nearly dropping the bunch of tulips he’s carrying onto the back of his bike wagon. The two look awfully apologetic during it all.

“Inej’s favorite color,” Alina explains with an embarrassed giggle, ducking their head, “It’s pink.”

Genya nods, “I see. How about… pink and white lilies, then?”

Jesper seems to smile in approval. “I like that. See, I would’ve just gone with pink roses.”

She gives them a sample, which they both seem pleased with, she hopes so at least, while chuckling once more at his statement, “Could work as well. But these are popular for gifts, they symbolise admiration.”

Her (favorite) client scrunches her nose with as big a grin as hers, already made up their mind, “I think she’ll love them.” And Genya, of course, feels a massive honor in helping them. Again. She can’t believe Alina’s come back two times. Gosh, she’s thinking too much.

“I’ll write these up for you, then,” she tells them while they’re already following her to the counter. At the same time, Jesper’s got furrowed brows in a thinkful sort of face, and Genya doesn’t really know if this is directed to Alina or herself, nevertheless he wonders aloud, “Not sure what my favorite flower is. You got one, Alina?”

“Duh,” the shorter person answers, without hesitation, “Sunflower. Everyone’s got one, right?

Sunflower .

In her mind, nothing else has made as much sense as this. This was the flower she first associated her client with, what their beauty could only be compared with. They shine, so much it’s near blinding Genya, at this point. Yes, she knows it’s cheesy, but it’s only in her head, after all.

Genya realises this question, however, is very much meant for her, and so she answers while typing in their total, bouquet already wrapped up to go, “I think so, yeah. I think your favorite means a lot for you, as a person.”

The taller man seems to consider this.

Then, “I like daffodils.”

“They mean rebirth,” she tells him, “Good choice.”

He looks pleased by her explanation. Alina seems to be the one deep in thought now, though, in fact, they’ve already paid and got the bunch in hand, Jesper saluting Genya in goodbye when the client asks, “What’s your favorite?”

As many times before, they never cease to surprise her, do they?

“My favorite flowers?”

She nods.

“Magnolias,” Genya needs no time to consider this, it’s easy, “Perseverance.”

Alina’s got her wide grin again, but… it changes, a little bit. It’s almost secretive. Promising. Regardless, Genya doesn’t know what to do with her thoughts about it, or the client bidding them their own farewell with, “Till next time!”

She’s quite sure this person will be the death of her, sooner or later.

And as if they could read her mind, Nina and Matthias appear at her side, the man’s arms crossed and her best friend’s arm around his waist, both looking at Genya like they could somehow dig into her brain and know all her secrets. They’re so annoying sometimes. When they’re not adorable. Mostly annoying, though.

“What are you two looking at?” she asks them, and the couple exchange a look before Nina grins.

“They asked for your favorite flower,” she says, her boyfriend nodding in agreement. Genya doesn’t know what to say.

“I know.”

Matthias cocks a brow, “You do?”

She scoffs in disbelief at whatever game they have going on, “Yes?”

Her best friend sighs and puts her free on her shoulder. She tilts her head, “Matthias asked for my favorite before our first date.”

Genya frowns. “I know.”

Nina then chuckles, because they’re both weird and wonderful at the same time, apparently, “You’re impossible.”

“I know what you’re suggesting, Nin,” she then says, because come on, it’s obvious what they’re implying. And it’s bullshit. It was just a question, you know? It must’ve been. Curiosity, that’s all. “But that is impossible.”

And because Nina’s looking at her in disbelief, she tilts her head in return, and her friend gives up on the staring contest soon enough. “Whatever you say, babe.”

As Genya expected, although much to her disappointment, it seems she won’t see anymore of her beautiful client with raven hair and smile like the sun itself, tragically.

It’s her own fault, really, getting… a bit too attached. She’s fine!

Of course Nina and Matthias are right about her crush, she already knew this. And a month after their last meeting, she admitted defeat just so they could get off her ass about it. Now, though, her best friend looks at her with a sad smile sometimes, like she can sense the disappointment that Alina’s presence is missing entirely from the shop.

They don’t have anything requiring flowers, she didn’t expect them to, all the time. And like, asking for Genya’s favorite flower didn’t mean anything, as her friends kept insisting. They were having a conversation. Customer and shop owner.

Why does she miss her? God, Genya needs to get a grip. It’s just a bit annoying, because she doesn’t feel bubbly and light anymore without Alina Starkov, and she still loves her job, of course , but maybe she does find herself a little bit jealous when the wedding season kicks in and the boutique is full of couples day in and day out, young and old, all looking at each other like no flower can compare to their love. It’s making her a little nauseous, not that she’ll ever admit it out loud.

Strangely enough, she does get a visit from a couple, a grumpy fellow and a woman with a soft smile, who never let go of each other’s hands while Genya sketched out ideas for the flower arrangement. They wanted geraniums. She somehow recalled her name: Inej Ghafa. And Kaz Brekker. Huh.

Matthias’ birthday passes, where Nina gets him cornflowers (of course), and a month later yet, a familiar face returns when Jesper stumbles in the door in excitement, eagerly purchasing a bouquet of irises for his boyfriend.

Even her mom’s in love, she tells her over the phone, and God, she’s happy for them all. Maybe Genya’s just been lonely too long.

She hadn’t even thought of dating in forever. Hadn’t thought of being single could possibly bore her, or tire her. Until, you know. Alina.

Whatever, whatever!

She’ll get over her stupid infatuation, eventually, she just needs to focus on her work, it was just a string of coindences, and once wedding season is over she’ll forget all about her favorite client who got away. Hopefully.

The universe has way, way different plans for her, though, apparently, because as she and Nina lock up for the evening, Matthias helping them carry the last load of a busy day even though this is technically his off-day (probably an excuse to be with his girlfriend even more, she suspects, but hey), Genya stops in her tracks in the parking lot.

The couple a few steps in front of her appear totally unfazed. They must know what’s going on.

And her suspicion is right, because Nina’s grinning from ear to ear when she looks back at her, “You okay, Gen?”

Genya blinks in disbelief.

Her car. It’s completely covered in… in magnolias. She can barely see any trace of her car, in fact, if it wasn’t for the lights blinking when she unlocked it.

What the hell is going on?

She’d had a rather normal day, busy but normal, and scheduled to drive back home to her mom for her birthday early tomorrow. But this is strange. Unreal. Not necessarily in a bad way, the flowers’ smell reaches her all the way over here, but just strange.

Matthias cocks his head and grabs Nina’s hand, “Aren’t you gonna look at your gift?”

“My… my gift?” she asks him, not sure what to say anymore. They definitely had a hand in this. “You already gave me gifts yesterday,” she tells them, dumbfounded.

Her best friend rolls her eyes, “It’s not from us, dummy.” “Who’s it from, then?”

“Shh! That’s a surprise.”

“Nina,” she warns, feeling the exhaustion take over her ever so quickly.

The brunette kisses her cheek and then tugs at her boyfriend’s arm towards her own car. Matthias winks. Screw them.

“Take a look!” they yell to her.

Well… okay then. Genya approaches her car slowly, only a little scared someone’ll jump out from the mountain of pink flowers and scare her half to death. Of course, this isn’t a prank, because her friends are bad at pranks, and the magnolias are so gorgeous she may be getting a little teary eyed.

These little ones reminded her to keep going, when she was at her lowest. It’s stupid, but she felt like she could overcome anything, learning the flower’s meaning and finding a blossom outside of her window back then, like a little reminder from the universe. That’s why they're her favorite. Perseverance.

Bugger, she should probably get started on digging her vehicle out from somewhere in there. Except… her eyes fall upon a little pink card, secured on the wiper. And on it, her name is written, in cursive, gold letters.

Her curiosity takes over, of course it bloody does, and she picks up the card immediately, and when she flips it over…

Is this a fever dream?

Happy early birthday, Genya Safin. Call me? Sincerest wishes (and apologies for the car, grand gesture), Alina Starkov.

This is most definitely a fever dream. Except the card is very real in her hands, and the smell of the magnolias embrace her like a warm hug, and her friends honk as they leave the lot, laughing audible even with the windows all the way up.

Alina’s phone number is written at the bottom, underlined and everything, with a tiny heart next to it.

A grand gesture. A grand romantic gesture, at that. Genya cannot for the life of her stop smiling, big and in shock and flushed and excitement flowing through her veins.

They remembered.

25 notes · View notes

accioscorp · 4 years

Text

Snitches and Kisses

This is a very random drabble that I came up with while doing this writing challenge !! It was so much fun !! I’d love to hear everyone’s thoughts !! Hope you enjoy !!

Scorpius’ heart thudded against his chest, each breath he took coming out shaky as he gently hit the end of his broom against his leg. The tunnel exiting onto the quidditch pitch was quiet, most of the noise from outside being drowned out. All that could be heard was the deep breaths of his teammates and the nervous shaking of legs and brooms. The anticipation and adrenaline building inside him as he awaited the Slytherin team to be announced to the crowds of Hogwarts students and staff for the final time this year.

The final game of the season had come around quick and fast and today's game was the cup decider between Slytheirn and Ravenclaw. During the whole year it had been neck and neck between both houses and in true Quidditch fashion, there was still no clear winner of favourite going into the final game. Going on previous years, Slytheirn would be the clear favourites but this year Ravenclaw had surprised everyone, winning both their previous games quite comfortably and even preventing Gryffindor, the previous years champions from having any shots at retaining their title.

The Slytherin team had done all they could to prepare. The last week consisted of late night practices and early morning runs to keep their minds focused. They had studied all the notes they had collected about the Ravenclaw team day after day. They couldn't have prepared any better. Even with all that prep, Ravenclaw were still the underdogs of the competition that had shocked everyone and anything could happen. They knew it would be difficult but they felt ready.

Being ready or at least feeling ready didn't stop the nerves from overcoming Scorpius as he gazed out the opening of the tunnel to the packed out Quidditch stadium. Scorpius found himself flinching as the announcer started to call out, one by one the members of the Slytherin team. Following the initial shock he felt a rush of excitement and determination flow through him. He mounted his broom and once his name was called flew through the tunnel.

The noise was electric as Scoprius emerged into the stadium. Every inch of the stands was filled with students and staff, decked out in house colours. The stadium was divided evenly enough with Ravenclaw and Slytheirn house colours with the odd few sections of members from the other houses. As Scorpius settled himself high above the ground in a perfect place to keep watch for the snitch, he saw a person waving crazily towards him or at least he thought it was him. It took him a while to notice that it was Albus who was sitting at the very top of the Slytherin stand alongside James, Lily and surprisingly Rose.

He threw a wave back towards him as the others joined in. It was nice to have Albus and his family supporting him even though only really James and Rose had any interest in Quidditch. He was brought back to what was happening in front of him as the warning whistle blew, telling both players and spectators that that match was about to begin. Scorpius readied himself, taking a deep breath, hoping that things wouldn't start to go south now that they had made it to the final hurdle. He began scanning the grounds for the Ravenclaw seeker and it didn’t take long to spot her. She was directly opposite him, her eyes not scanning the area like he was but darting into him like she was hoping it would throw him off. The start whistle was blown, bodies flying in every direction as the final Hogwarts Quidditch game of the year began.

The party continued in the Slytheirn common room as Albus and Scorpius snuck out and into the cool evening air of the Hogwarts grounds. One of Scorpius’ hands was intertwined with Albus’, the other twirling around the snitch from the final. Slytherin had won the house cup but only just. The match was one of the longest finals they've had in years and it was a battle to the end between Scorpius and the Ravenclaw seeker for the snitch, Scorpius eventually coming out on top.

A party had been ongoing in the Slytheirn common room for hours now and Scorpius needed to take a little break from the chaos so he and Albus had made their way to their favourite spot, the huge cherry blossom tree that stood near the lake. The tree had been their hang out since first year. It was quiet, peaceful and no one rarely bothered them there. Scorpius’ favourite memory of him and Albus actually happened under this exact tree, their first kiss. It had happened halfway through their fifth year and it had been amazing. They both loved coming back here, just the two of them.

They lay there, Scorpius’ head on Albus’ tummy and their hands intertwined. Scorpius’ snitch which had kindly been given to him from Mc Gonagall as a reminder of the win fluttering around them as they watched the stunning sunset that surrounded the Hogwarts castle, the sky a mixture of various shades of red, yellow and orange. It had been their first time alone all day due to the chaos that ensued before and after the game. It was finally only them, no one butting in to talk quidditch or pull Scorpius away for being the Slytherin hero of the day.

Just them.

“I’m really proud of you” Albus whispered, leaning down to place a soft kiss on the tip of Scorpius’ nose before moving down to his lips. Scorpius kissed him back, one of his hands tangling itself in Albus’ curls before they both pulled back. “You did amazing” Albus continued, running his fingertips gently over a developing bruise on Scorpius' arm from where he was hit by a bludger. Scorpius thanked him before pulling him in for a hug.

They lay there for merlin knows how long in each other's arms, spending as much time alone together before someone eventually came looking for them and dragged them back to the party. It had been a long day for Scorpius but having his boyfriend cuddled into his side as they celebrated the win in their own way made all the stress and hard work completely worth it.

#cursed child #cursed child fanfic #scorbus #albus potter #scorpius malfoy #ccsquad #accioscorp #Megan is writing #this was so much fun #I loved doing this so much

25 notes · View notes

siriusmuch · 4 years

Text

Friday I’m In Love | Chapter Two

series masterlist here

word count: about 2.8k

warnings: there is a pov switch in this chapter! i hope it isn’t too confusing to understand :)

taglist: @interestingthingsthings @siriuslysirius1107 @scaredofvscogirls @lizlil @themihala @mainstreambitchlife please message me or send an ask if you’d like to be added to the taglist!

a/n: i could continue to thank you guys for all of your endless support and it still wouldn’t be enough. thank you to everyone who has expressed interest in the series, whether it’s just by liking, reblogging, commenting, or asking to be added to the taglist. i’m so happy you guys have enjoyed this series so far, and i hope i continue to have your endless support ♡

“You’ve been spending quite the amount of time with Lupin,” Severus commented. The two of us were in potions, hovering over my cauldron as you mixed in Armadillo Bile. “It’s supposed to turn purple once we mix in enough, and then we let it simmer for ten minutes.”

You looked up at him and sheepishly smiled, “He’s been tutoring me after classes. I’ve been getting sick, so Professor McGonagall asked him to help me catch up.”

“Is that so?” Severus hummed as he overtook the stirring, “Add some more in, I can see it starting to change color. You know you could’ve asked me for help, right?”

You nodded, a fond smile on your face. “I didn’t want to bother you with anything else. I know what... you’ve been up to,” Your voice was quieter as you made sure no one else could overhear, “Besides, Remus isn’t so bad. He explains things to me in a way that I can understand.”

“And I can’t?” Severus’ eyebrow raised, and you smirked. “No, you suck arse at explaining. The only person who can ever understand you is Evans.”

“No, you just don’t pay attention,” Severus deadpanned as you chuckled a bit, feeling at ease. Since you became friends with Remus, you felt more appreciated than you had felt ever since you and Sirius had drifted. Somehow, confessing that you got nightmares at night and telling him about how you didn’t even know why Sirius stopped being your friend in the first place was able to help more than any sleeping tea that the house-elves gave you. Although Remus didn’t know anything close to the reason why you were having nightmares, it was easy to be in his presence.

“You’re getting lost in thought again, (Y/N).”

“Oh!” You exclaimed, shaking your head and getting any thoughts of Remus or that night out of your head. “Okay, once the potion has simmered for ten minutes, we have to add more Ginger Root until it turns dark orange. Then we’re done, and we can give it to Professor Slughorn.”

Severus nodded as you started preparing the Ginger Root. “(Y/N)... I know you haven’t been sleeping too well and I know about your little adventures to the kitchen. Are you still on about what happened over the Summer?” If you weren’t standing close by Severus, you wouldn’t have heard him at all. You stopped cutting the Ginger Root for a quick moment.

“Of course I am. I don’t know how you’re not. I wish I could stop thinking about it, you know?” You sighed, “I mean, I guess you are, but you’re a lot better at hiding what you really feel.”

“You’re right. You need to get your act together. You know what’s at stake.”

With that, you started adding the chopped Ginger Root to the potion, watching it slowly turn colors once again. You wished that Severus was more sympathetic, although you couldn’t blame him. You both knew what was at stake, and as much as you wished you didn’t, you had no choice but to force yourself to be stronger.

“You’ve been looking over to the Slytherin table an awful lot,” Sirius mused. Remus looked up from his dinner, his thoughts consumed by you and your study session from earlier. He shrugged, not wanting to go into detail.

“That’s true! In potions earlier, you were staring at um... I forgot her name, I think it’s like, (Y/N/N)?” Peter cut in, his voice a bit muffled as he spoke with his mouth full.

“Her name is (Y/N),” Remus said, handing Peter a napkin to wipe his mouth with, “And I haven’t been staring. I’ve just been helping her with some of her classes.” Remus’ eyes involuntarily darted back to the Slytherin table, where you were sitting, spoon in your mouth, also you weren’t eating. Your head was in another book (probably the one that he let you borrow earlier that day), and Regulus looked like he was going to shove the spoon down your mouth if you didn’t stop reading. His lips couldn’t help but curve up into a smile at the sight.

“Don’t tell me you’re falling for her out of all people,” Sirius’ eyes narrowed, “Haven’t you been listening to what I’ve been saying? She’s a no-good, pureblooded, racist arsehole who doesn’t give a crap about anyone who isn’t her. You could do so much better than her.”

Remus opened his mouth to retort, but luckily, James interrupted before he said something he’d regret. “She’s a Slytherin. Not that all Slytherins are bad, but all of the nice ones I know tell me she hangs with Snape and Black a lot. You know what Snivellus is like.”

Remus rolled his eyes, “You don’t say that about your darling Lilypad, and she hangs out with him all the time. What makes (Y/N) so bad?”

“Ugh, you’re even on first-name basis on her. The difference is that she’s a Slytherin and that I’ve known her since we were newborns. You might think she’s an angel now, or as much as an angel a Slytherin could be, but she’s just like the rest of them. Just like my parents,” Sirius’ hand tightened around his fork, his anger starting to show.

They’ve had this conversation many times. Remus had never defended her before, but he knew that she wasn’t everything that Sirius painted her out to be. But as much as he wanted to say more, he couldn’t. Not when these were his first friends, not when they accepted him for being a werewolf and went so far out of their way to help him.

“Are you talking about who I think you’re talking about?” Dorcas, who was walking by, piped in. Dorcas and the Marauders were rather close, being as they were in the same house and that she and Lily were close friends. Remus knew how smart Dorcas was. She was an exceptional witch and he admired her smarts. “(Y/L/N)?”

“Yeah,” Remus answered, “Sirius and James just don’t like that I’ve been spending time with her.”

Dorcas hesitated, taking a seat next to them. “I bumped into her a while back, like, maybe two or three weeks ago, I can’t remember. The girls and I were having a late-night study session, and I was sent down to the kitchen to get snacks. She was heading there too, and she looked really startled when I talked to her. It almost seemed like she was on the verge of panicking...? She didn’t really say much, but apparently, she goes to the kitchens often. The house-elves there recognized her immediately, and they knew her usual: sleeping tea and cookies. I think... she’s been having nightmares, although I didn’t ask. She was really polite through the entire interaction with me, though, even though she clearly recognized who I was. It almost felt like she was thankful that I was keeping her company, even though it was just for a few minutes.”

The Marauders didn’t say anything, although Remus could feel them looking at each other. More importantly, he, James, and Peter were looking at Sirius. But Sirius was unreadable. There wasn’t a flicker of concern on his face, but something in Remus’ gut told him that he was worried.

“Anyway, I’m sorry for interrupting your conversation... Has she mentioned having night terrors or anything to you, Remus?” Dorcas asked.

Remus paused. For one thing, he did tell you that he wouldn’t talk about your struggles, although they now already knew of her nightmares. “Well... The whole reason why I was asked to tutor her was that she hadn’t been attending classes and doing assignments. She told Professor McGonagall about her sleepless nights and Madame Pomfrey knows of it as well. Sometimes she gets sleeping potions to help calm her down and ease her to sleep, or sleeping potions that make you have a dreamless sleep. I don’t know anything else beyond that, though.”

The silence was heavy, although Peter kept stuffing his mouth with food. Remus could feel Peter’s eyes nervously darting to him and the other Marauders, but he wanted to know what Sirius thought.

But for once, Sirius was quiet, and they spent the rest of dinner without talking.

“Merlin, I’m exhaaaaausted, Rem,” You whined, throwing your quill onto the table. The two of you had been working on the weekend assignments that your teachers assigned, and all you wanted to do was take a fat nap. As much as you adored Remus’ company, Saturdays weren’t supposed to be spent on homework.

“Go take a laugh-inducing potion, you’ll laugh so hard that you won’t be tired anymore,” Remus responded, a small smirk on his face as he continued to work on his assignment.

“You’re no fun! C’mon, let’s go down to the Black Lake. Or we can sneak into the Gryffindor Common Room! Or something. I’m just so miserably booooored.” You took Remus’ quill and held onto his hands so he’d look into your eyes. “Look how bored I am. Let’s do something!”

“I doubt that the Gryffindors would welcome you with open arms,” Remus told you, to which you shrugged.

“I don’t care! As long as you welcome me, Rem. Who cares about all those Gryffindors as long as we’re having fun?”

“For one thing, I could list one other Gryffindor that you’d care about, but I guess you’re right. If things go bad, I could just take you to the dorms... Though Peter, Sirius, and James might not be the happiest about that.”

“Are you trying to say something?” You cheekily grinned when you saw Remus’ cheeks flush red. You laughed, standing up and gathering your things. “Let’s go already, you can even share your chocolate stash with me!”

The two of you left the Study Area and walked up the Gryffindor Tower. You were teasing Remus about his beloved chocolate stash, and you felt happy. For once, thoughts about the Summer didn’t haunt you, and you were hanging out with someone who you didn’t have to put up walls around. Sure, you loved Regulus and Snape, although they were in the same predicament you were in. With Remus, you could say things or do things and not be judged.

“Tapeworm,” Remus said to the Fat Lady outside the common room, and you raised an eyebrow at that. You weren’t going to question it, although it was a peculiar password. It was a lot better than the Slytherin’s, though.

“You’re not one of the Gryffindors,” The Fat Lady glared down at you.

“I’m not. Although, I am one of Remus’ friends. I only come with good intentions, I swear.” You smiled up at her, hoping that was enough for her to let you in. Moments passed, and you were going to ask Remus if he wanted to go down to the Black Lake instead, but luckily in your favor, she swung open and let the two of you in. “I bet she only let me in because you’re such a goody-two-shoes,” You teased.

“Of course, because you’re so troublesome alone. The damage you’d cause if I wasn’t there to reign you in would be severe.”

Laughs escaped from your lips as you grinned brightly. You and Remus hadn’t been friends for long, but he was so welcoming. He was the kindest person you knew, and you wouldn’t give that up for anything.

“And now, I welcome you to our humble adobe,” Remus opened his arms, gesturing to the round room.

At first sight, you knew you were instantly enamored with the Gryffindor Common Room. It radiated comfort and the feeling of home, and suddenly, you knew why Remus was as amazing as he was. The fireplace against the wall flickered, and the room was adorned in red and gold. Tapestries were among every wall and bookcases filled with novels were located in different parts of the room.

You wished your common room was more like this. Yours was grand, yet it always felt cold. Staring out the windows into the Black Lake was often unappealing since you could almost always see dark figures swimming about.

“Rem... This is gorgeous,” You told him, “No wonder your entire personality is so homey.” Remus smiled at you, and you started walking around to see different parts of the room. Before long though, the two of you were settled down on the couch. Your head was on his lap as his hands ran through your hair, and the two of you kept on bursting into laughs every few minutes.

“And then, she said, ‘Please dump your baby batter in me, sir!’” You snorted as you retold the story of a conversation you overheard in the hallway. Remus chuckled, his hands never stop playing with your hair. You were so lucky that you remembered to brush it that morning.

“There was this one time where James made a joke saying that he wished that Lily would dominate him,” Remus started and you burst into uncontrollable laughter. You didn’t know either of them well, but you knew just how whipped James was for Lily. Everyone with eyes knew. You wouldn’t be surprised if James ended up actually saying that to the redhead, although he’d probably end up with a broken nose.

You wished you had that much fun in your own life. Remus was a joy to be around, but there was a big void in your heart. You couldn’t help but crave just a little bit more. There was nothing that could ever fit Sirius’ role in your life, and part of you wished that you didn’t think about him as often as you did. But that same part of you that wished that you’d never met him knew that if he came to you and asked to be friends again, you’d accept with no hesitation.

You might be a Slytherin, but there was nothing that topped your endless love for Sirius.

“You feeling okay?” Remus stopped playing with your hair as he looked down at you in concern, “You went quiet.”

“I...” You weren’t sure what to say. “I don’t know, Remus. I get so happy when I’m with you, yet sometimes my heart just drops in the middle of a good conversation. It’s like I’m constantly thinking about Sirius, no matter how deep into my mind I push him.”

Remus gave you a sad smile, but he started playing with your hair again. “I can’t repair your friendship for you. You guys are the only two people in control of that bond, and Sirius isn’t the type of person to confront you about it. If you really want to rekindle something, you’d have to attempt to do so yourself.”

“I have tried, Remus. I have a thousand times. I’ve written him letters that I see him rip up in the Great Hall. I’ve sent him notes asking him to meet me. For the first three years, I even still sent him birthday and Christmas presents. No matter how much I show that I care, it seems like he doesn’t anymore. And I can’t keep throwing my pride and self-worth away for him. I’d just be like every other girl chasing after him. I’m tired of it. I’m tired of missing him.”

Your eyes started watering, but you quickly rubbed at them and hid your face into Remus’ sweater. You couldn’t keep doing this anymore. Sirius was one of the only people who truly understood what you went through with your parents, even if he missed out on how intense the last five years had been. Regulus knew your relationship with them was rocky, but Regulus was unable to understand you in a way that Sirius could. And Remus didn’t deserve this weight on his shoulders. And if ever found out about what had happened over the Summer, there was no doubt that he’d leave.

“I know you are, (Y/N). I know you are.” Remus whispered, his voice soothing you just a tiny bit. “But you have me now. You might not have him, but some people do care. I care, and I’m sure Black and Snape care too.”

“They care, but not enough. They have their own problems going on, and I’m just going to stop them from focusing on themselves. I just, I don’t know. Part of me wishes I wasn’t born who I was. Maybe then...” You trailed off, not wanting to get deeper into your problems. “Rem... I’m probably going to go back to the dungeons, alright?” You sat up, wiping your tears away. “I’m sorry for crying and ruining our hangout.”

“Don’t apologize for anything. You did nothing wrong,” Remus wrapped his arms around you, giving you a tight hug. You hugged back just as tight, before letting go and standing up.

“Bye, Rem. Thanks for being my friend. It means everything to me.” You smiled at him, brushing off your clothes before leaving. Remus watched you leave, and as he heard the Fat Lady talking to you, he turned around and looked straight towards an empty couch, a dark expression on his face.

“Do you guys want to come out now, or are you going to keep pretending like you weren’t there the entire time?”

#friday i'm in love #sirius black #remus lupin #severus snape #dorcas meadowes #james potter #lily evans #peter pettigrew #sirius black x reader #remus lupin x reader #marauders #marauders era #marauders x reader #marauders era x reader #severus snape x reader #regulus black #journal of joyivos

99 notes · View notes

basaliskwrites · 6 years

Text

Comic Script 2 - Sundown

"Sundown" is a comic originally published in the horror-themed 4th volume of the Lilies Anthology series: Spider Lily. This was a collaborative effort, written by myself and illustrated by the incomparable Sparklenaut.

"Monstrous, predatory and villainous depictions of queer people continue to be a common occurrence in modern day media. What to do, when in the middle of being nervous about your “first time together” your girlfriend starts growing enormous claws and teeth that could tear you in half? When the sun is setting, the lines between hopes, fears, fantasy and reality are blurred. Can the fear of intimacy be conquered, and does love belong even to those with a fuzzy snout?"

- Sparklenaut

Page 1 - 4 panels:

Panel 1:

Establishing shot, showing the location and environment. This panel shows a small house, tucked away somewhere in a city/built-up area. It is late evening, and only one light on the upper floor is switched on. In the foreground, crows caw ominously.

Panels 2 and 3:

These are transitional shots, showing the two characters, A and B, walking into a room, from the perspective of the room itself. B walks in first, and A follows after. In panel 3, A produces a key from her pocket.

A is wearing comfortable clothes, including baggy jeans,a t-shirt and a red flannel shirt.

Panel 4:

A stands in the centre of the panel, as she LOCKS the door from the inside. For the first time we see her face, and she has a concerned expression. In her long, fluffy hair, there is a PINK RIBBON tied in a bow. She addresses B, who is off-screen.

A: Are you sure you want to do this?

Page 2 - 6 Panels:

Panels 1, 2 and 3:

These are more transitional shots, while A talks to B, who remains off-screen. A is clearly cleaning up the room, though it is still not obvious which room in her house this is. In the first panel, she is placing delicate items into boxes. In the second, she is drawing the curtains, allowing the reader to see the setting sun on the horizon. In the third panel, she is clearing furniture into the corners of the room-

A: It’s just that...

A: I always thought…

A: People like me shouldn’t…

A: Do this kind of thing with people like you.

Panel 4:

This panel features a close-up of B’s face - she is much more stylish than A, with short, curly blonde hair and an undercut. She gives A a reassuring grin, but she is holding up a pair of shining metal HANDCUFFS.

B: Do I look like I’m being held against my will?

Panel 5:

A, who is rolling up a huge rug in the middle of her room, smiles and laughs.

A: Haha, of course not!

Panel 6:

A close-up of A’s face shows that, while she laughed at B’s joke, she is still worried and concerned.

Page 3 - 3 panels:

Panel 1:

This is a wide-angle shot, featuring A standing alone in the room holding the rolled-up RUG. The room is revealed to be her BEDROOM, with a bed to one side, and HUGE SCRATCHES can be seen all over the hardwood floor where the rug used to be. This shot makes A seem SMALL and VULNERABLE.

Panel 2:

Close-up of the HANDCUFFS, dangling by B’s side, as she addresses her GIRLFRIEND:

B: Are you ready?

Panel 3:

This panel shows A laying out a small ‘doggy mat’, something that one might place in a dog basket, or in a cage.

A: Yeah, I think so.

Page 4 - 4 Panels:

Panel 1:

This panel shows A’s bare feet and lower legs, while her OVERSHIRT falls to the ground - she is now stripping naked, making it more clear that she is to become the WEREWOLF.

Panel 2:

Close-up of A’s arm, as B locks the HANDCUFFS around A’s WRIST. They talk to each other, though we cannot see either of their faces.

B: Will these hold you?

A (NERVOUS): W-well, they always have in the past!

Panel 3:

A is now sitting naked on the little MAT she laid out earlier. The HANDCUFFS are connected to a RADIATOR by her side, so that she cannot leave this spot. She is looking self-conscious and nervous, clearly anxious about the night to come. A narrow gap in the curtains (out of shot) leaves a narrow strip of light up the middle of A’s body. The same DEEP SCRATCHES on the floor from before are visible here.

Panel 4:

B lies awake in bed, staring straight up at the ceiling. Her arms, crossed behind her head, shows that she has no intention of sleeping. There is the suggestion, from her being in bed, that some time has passed.

A (OUT): You know…

Page 5 - 5 Panels:

Panel 1:

Close-up of A’s feet, showing that she is fidgeting nervously. The sunset is bathing her in increasing shades of red and orange.

A: This is the first time I’ve had anyone with me.

Panel 2:

Close-up now of A’s face. She is looking away from the reader, gazing at the floor nervously, but she is now smiling a little. This suggests that she is feeling a little more comfortable with her situation, and with B’s presence.

A: It’s been a bit scary, but now I’m really excited about that!

Panel 3:

A wide-angle shot of the setting sun outside. The sun is now only a small glimmer above the rooftops.

Panel 4:

This panel shows the floor by A’s feet again, but instead of showing her nervous fidgeting, we can see her arm, still restrained by the HANDCUFFS, but now sporting a set of claws that are digging SCRATCHES into the floor.

A: In fact… It’s like I’m even more excited than usual!

Panel 5:

Now we see A’s face again, and she is staring directly at the reader. Her eyes are much more feral than before, and her wide grin shows long, sharp teeth.

A: I’m pumped! It’s hard to sit still! I can’t wait to be over there with you.

Page 6 - 6 Panels:

Panels 1-6:

In these panels, we see fantasies and fears through A’s mind’s eye, as the power of the FULL MOON (not shown) starts to rise within her. She continues her monologue to B, detailing her physical desires, and there are parallels drawn between her sexual fantasy and the fears of her predatory urges.

In the first panel, they are passionately kissing.

In the second, her desire to kiss her lover and “taste” her skin has taken on a more monstrous appearance within her mind, and she is leaving LOVEBITES with sharp teeth and long claws on B’s NECK and SHOULDERS.

The third panel shows her monstrous mouth, licking her lips with a savage hunger.

In the fourth panel, the WOLF in her mind has taken over more, and we can see B scrambling towards the reader, huge CLAWS reaching out of the SHADOWS behind her.

In the fifth panel, B is running for the LOCKED bedroom door, with the shadow of A’s enormous, LUPINE body cast over her.

In the sixth panel, a TERRIFIED B is pinned to the ground beneath the formless horror of A.

A: I wanna hold you so tight I can feel your soft skin against mine…

A: I wanna make out with you so I can taste your lips and leave dumb marks all over your neck...

A: I wanna go wild, and feel the rush of your beating heart...

A: I wanna run my nails through your hair and down your spine...

A: I wanna feel my teeth against your skin, so I can taste everything about you…

Page 7 - 4 Panels:

Panel 1:

This is an entirely black panel, as A has closed her eyes during her fantasy, and features only B’s speech bubbles. She is shouting, to break A out of her reverie.

B: Hey!

B: Hey! You okay?

Panel 2:

Close-up on A’s EYES, open wide with panic and fright. Her eyes are now RED, but are looking less FERAL than before.

Panel 3:

Panel depicting B holding A by the shoulders, having crossed the room during A’s FANTASY. B looks at A, worried, while A is staring up at the moon with a terrified expression, which is bathing them both in a pale white light.

Panel 3:

A view out of the window from B and A’s perspectives, featuring the FULL MOON that will complete A’s transformation.

A (OUT): I-I’m scared.

Page 8 - 6 Panels:

Panels 1-5:

These are the transitional panels that depict A’s transformation. The transformation is grotesque and uneven, shown mostly through suggestion.

In the first, she is silhouetted against the FULL MOON, as FUR sprouts all over her body and her hands start to become huge PAWS.

In the second, we see her FACE as it loses its last shred of humanity.

In panels 3, 4 and 5, we see glimpses of her huge CLAWS, long fur and wolf-like MUZZLE.

Panel 6:

The now fully-transformed A towers over B, who stares up at her with a TERRIFIED expression.

Page 9 - 4 Panels:

Panels 1 and 2:

These panels show A and B, who is now cowering some distance away from A. A is sitting silently on the floor, and doesn’t seem to move. In the second panel, B starts to realise that A is not moving, and pauses. A is an enormous creature, a mostly formless monster made up of jet black fur with canine features and a pair of white, glowing EYES.

Panel 3:

Close-up of A staring directly at the reader (and B, out of shot) with her expressionless EYES. They do not openly show any emotion, and she still has not moved. The cute pink RIBBON is still attached to A, now sitting behind one of her EARS.

Panel 4:

Close-up of B, who is still afraid and cowering. She tries to reach out to A with her voice. She is afraid that A will not recognise her, and might react violently if confused.

B: B-Baby?

Page 10 - 7 Panels:

Panel 1:

Shows B’s feet, as she walks slowly across the room towards A. To highlight the danger, the DEEP SCRATCHES are clearly visible on the floor.

Panel 2:

Close-up on B’s face, sweating nervously but forcing a reassuring smile, as she reaches out her hand towards A.

B: H-Hey there sweetie…

B: I’m...

B: I’m gonna Trust you now, okay?

Panel 3:

Close-up on A’s ears, that twitch as B talks.

B (OUT): I'm gonna come a bit closer, alright?

Panel 4:

This panel shows that B is now much closer to A, nervously reaching out to her. A is looking at her with CURIOUSITY.

Panel 5:

Close-up on B’s face again, now even more nervous and lacking the reassuring smile from before.

Panels 6 and 7:

B’s HAND reaches out towards A’s NOSE, which sniffs at her with interest. In panel 6, her hand shakes with fear at the cautious sniffing, but in panel 7, A has clearly recognised her GIRLFRIEND, and presses her NOSE happily into B’s HAND.

Page 11 - 4 Panels:

Panel 1:

Closeup on A’s tail, which wags eagerly at B’s touch. Now that A regonises her, her body language and depiction is much less frightening.

Panel 2:

Close-up on A and B’s faces. A has gotten closer to B, and affectionately LICKS her FACE with a huge pink tongue. B laughs, raising her arm as if to ward herself against the gross lick.

B (LAUGHING): Hey! Cut it out!

Panel 3:

B scratches A affectionately behind the EARS, showing A’s RIBBON. A has her EYES closed with HAPPINESS.

Panel 4:

B hugs A’s enormous head affectionately, and the two share a tender moment of shared relief and love.

B: See? This isn’t so bad, you’re doing great!

B: I’m glad you’re okay, sweetie.

Page 12 - 4 Panels:

Panel 1:

B has A’s PAW placed on her lap, while she removes the HANDCUFFS. Because A has grown so much, the HANDCUFFS are now painfully tight around her WRIST and looks as though it has been rubbed RAW.

B: Aww, sweetie… I knew these were a silly idea.

Panel 2:

Close-up of B’s hand, as she lights some romantic CANDLES.

Panel 3:

B embraces A’s HEAD once again, placing a KISS upon A’s FOREHEAD. The CANDLES have replaced the lighting of the MOON with a warm, orange glow.

Panel 4:

A large, open panel featuring B leading A over to the bed, now confident in her GIRLFRIEND’s self-control. They both seem HAPPY, and any trace of a threatening atmosphere has vanished from A’s appearance.

B: Now come on, you!

B: We’ve only got all night!

END.

#Writing #Comic Scripts #Original Fiction #Sundown Comic #Lilies Anthology

9 notes · View notes

nancygduarteus · 5 years

Text

Houseplants Don’t Actually Clean the Air

When vine-curious Brooklynites walk into Tula Plants and Design—a small houseplant shop in Greenpoint with a vibrant Instagram presence and a profusion of leaves on every available horizontal surface—the employees know what questions to expect.

There are two, according to Ariel Ries, an employee at the store. The first is, “Will this plant kill my pet?” The second is, “What kind of plants are best for cleaning the air?”

Of all the 1970s trends that have enjoyed a resurgence in recent years—astrology, Fleetwood Mac, and special-counsel investigations among them—few have shown the explosive growth of houseplants and indoor gardening. “More American households are gardening than ever before (77 percent),” bragged a recent press release from the National Gardening Survey, “and increasingly the gardener is a young man.”

As a young man, I can vouch: I am increasingly the gardener. (I own seven plants.) Of the 6 million Americans who took up gardening in 2016, 5 million were Millennials like me, according to the National Gardening Survey, an annual poll conducted by a nonprofit advocacy group. Gardening is now a $47 billion industry in the United States, with the average gardener household spending a record $503 on plants and materials annually. (I have spent $63.)

[Read: Rome’s Colosseum was once a wild, tangled garden]

Houseplants have much to recommend them. They’re fun to care for, they look good on Instagram, and they express environmental angst through interior design. But one of houseplants’ most commonly repeated virtues holds that they’re not only living tchotchkes, but also little HVAC machines: Houseplants, allegedly, filter the air. The Sill, an online plant store that communicates its Millennial bonafides through chunky serifs and large splotches of white space, lists plant species by the airborne toxins they are best at removing. (Philodendrons filter formaldehyde.) Yet interest in this particular plant benefit is not limited to the self-care set. The same question has landed listicles in the patrician This Old House, the nerdy Lifehacker, and a doomsday-prepper blog.

For several years, research really did suggest that houseplants might cleanse the air of certain pollutants. But now most scientists say that’s not right.

“It’s such an alluring and enticing idea,” Elliot Gall, a Portland State University professor, told me. “But the scientific literature shows that indoor houseplants—as would be typically implemented in a person’s home—do very little to clean the air.”

“My view is even harsher than that,” Michael Waring, an engineering professor at Drexel University, told me. “I do not think that houseplants clean the air.”

“A resounding ‘no,’” agreed Richard Corsi, a longtime air-pollution researcher, in an email. Houseplants do not clean the air “any more than an old pair of socks or baseball cap that I would hang on the wall.”

Why the confusion? Big Succulent isn’t lying to you, though at this point the houseplant industry is cherry-picking data. But for plants to actually improve the air, even in a compact apartment, you’d need a concentration of houseplants that only the most dedicated plant lovers can actually achieve.

In the late 1980s, the NASA scientist Bill Wolverton investigated whether common houseplants could remove a certain type of air pollutant, called “volatile organic compounds,” or VOCs, from the air. VOCs are regularly released by common household products such as drywall, house paints, nail polish, shampoo, and almost anything with a scent. Their harmful effects can range from an itchy throat to nasopharyngeal cancer.

[Read: Why pop culture links women and killer plants]

Unlike other types of air pollution, such as soot or particulate matter, VOCs can’t be filtered out of the air with a fine-grade filter. This means that they can build up in hermetically sealed environments … such as laboratories or spacecraft. The problem for NASA was obvious. So Wolverton, a former military scientist who began his career studying whether plants could break down Agent Orange, now examined whether houseplants could absorb VOCs.

His 1989 report announced a cheerful answer. Plants were “a promising, economical solution to indoor air pollution,” it declared. “If man is to move into closed environments, on Earth or in space, he must take along nature’s life support system.” The report—jointly funded by NASA and the Associated Landscape Contractors of America, a trade group—was picked up by the media. The idea gained even more currency in 1996, when Wolverton published How to Grow Fresh Air: 50 Houseplants That Purify Your Home or Office. (Wolverton did not respond to a request for comment.)

That study provides the scientific basis for almost all the plant-and-air-pollution content you see online. “I’ve seen it on so many pop internet sites—‘researchers from NASA’ is the common phrase you see,” Waring, the Drexel professor, said. He told me that there’s nothing especially wrong with Wolverton’s 1989 study. Its results “fall right in line with other stuff that’s been measured in the literature.”

But taking its results at face value significantly overstates the power of plants, he said. Wolverton measured whether houseplants could remove VOCs from an airtight laboratory environment. But a home is not a hermetic chamber. It has open windows and doors, drafts and leaks, and much more clutter.

Recently, Waring and his colleagues reanalyzed all 195 studies that have examined whether houseplants can filter the air. They found that some types of plants can remove higher amounts of VOCs than others. But once you factor in the effects of working in a large room, none of the plants are able to do much.

Waring told me to imagine a small office, 10 feet by 10 feet by eight feet. “You would have to put 1,000 plants in that office to have the same air-cleaning capacity of just changing over the air once per hour, which is the typical air-exchange rate in an office ventilation system,” he said. That’s 10 plants per square foot of floor space. Even if you chose the most effective type of VOC-filtering plant, you would still need one plant per square foot, Waring said.

Or as Waring (who owns 10 to 20 houseplants) recently put it in a presentation for the National Academies of Sciences, Engineering, and Medicine:

Michael Waring

But maybe scientists have been researching the wrong pollutant. Several years ago, a team of researchers examined whether houseplants could remove ground-level ozone. Ozone’s effects are often described as “sunburn inside your lungs,” and can cause painful breathing, asthma attacks, and even the chronic lung disease COPD.

More than 107 million Americans live in areas with unhealthy amounts of ozone, according to the Environmental Protection Agency. Unfortunately, houseplants can’t do much about that, either. The researchers found that even the most effective plants barely reduced the level of ozone in indoor spaces. “If ozone levels were 30 parts per billion in your home, then you might reduce them to like 29.7 parts per billion,” said Gall, the Portland State professor and a co-author of the study. (He owns no houseplants. “When I did a postdoc in Singapore, we had two big houseplants we were excited about and loved, but then we had ant problems for the next two years,” he said.)

[Read: Why do these plants have metallic blue leaves?]

Houseplants are just outcompeted. Gall told me to look at the surface area of houseplants in your home, and then to consider the surface area of every other object in your home—the walls, the spray bottles, the couch cushions, everything. “The surface area of any vegetation is just very, very low compared with everything else that could function as a source or a sink” for air pollutants, he said.

To start to even marginally lower indoor-air pollution, Gall estimated that you would need at least one houseplant for every 20 square feet of floor space. “And there are downsides to that,” he said. “You wind up having a living system in the space, and that might raise indoor humidity and cause other problems.”

Hilton Carter enjoys having a living system in his space. Carter is a filmmaker and designer whose plant-focused Instagram account has more than 163,000 followers. He told me he keeps about 185 plants in his 950-square-foot apartment in Baltimore, roughly one plant per every five square feet. “You can feel the difference in a space that’s filled with plants as opposed to a space that isn’t,” he said. “Right now, my home feels a bit more humid than it would without those plants in there.”

This humidity, while great in the winter, did somewhat limit his decoration options. “If you want to have furniture in there, it probably wouldn’t be as wise,” he said. But it’s worth it: He loves the feel of a space with plants, even if they don’t purify the air as he thought.

Yet even Carter’s apartment did not meet the strict quota for VOCs. Not even Instagram-famous plant density can cleanse a room. In fact, I found only one place that achieved one plant per square foot: Tula Plants and Design. Ries told me that the 800-square-foot store will regularly have more than 800 plants for days after a delivery. (On the day I called, it had 750.)

And Ries, as it happened, was familiar with the original Wolverton study. The store regularly shows it to customers who ask about the best air-purifying plants, she said, though employees also warn them that the study measured something very specific and was “definitely different than how it would be in our real environment.” Often, patrons walk away with peace lilies. I asked whether the newer science might change Tula’s recommendations.

“I guess I could imagine putting peace lilies all over the place. Then your home would be very full of peace lilies,” Ries said. “But unless you really loved peace lilies and snake plants, it might not be something that brings you joy.” And joy, not marginal air pollution, is the real reason to own a plant. I said that I still loved my new plants, even if they didn’t make my apartment’s air any cleaner.

“Bringing plants in, bringing greenery in—it’s about having something near you that’s alive, that you’re caring for, that brings you joy and happiness,” she said. “And that affects your mood, whether or not it’s giving you more oxygen to breathe or something.”

from Health News And Updates https://www.theatlantic.com/science/archive/2019/03/indoor-plants-clean-air-best-none-them/584509/?utm_source=feed

0 notes

ionecoffman · 5 years

Text

Houseplants Don’t Actually Clean the Air

There are two, according to Ariel Ries, an employee at the store. The first is, “Will this plant kill my pet?” The second is, “What kind of plants are best for cleaning the air?”

[Read: Rome’s Colosseum was once a wild, tangled garden]

For several years, research really did suggest that houseplants might cleanse the air of certain pollutants. But now most scientists say that’s not right.

“My view is even harsher than that,” Michael Waring, an engineering professor at Drexel University, told me. “I do not think that houseplants clean the air.”

[Read: Why pop culture links women and killer plants]

Or as Waring (who owns 10 to 20 houseplants) recently put it in a presentation for the National Academies of Sciences, Engineering, and Medicine:

Michael Waring

[Read: Why do these plants have metallic blue leaves?]

Article source here:The Atlantic

0 notes