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luckyspike · 5 years

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Adventures in America, Ch. 6 - In which Adam learns about the formation of shelf clouds (literally, this is not a metaphor)

and this chapter took so long because in order for adam to learn about the formation of shelf clouds i had to learn about the formation of shelf clouds

thank you to wikipedia, and the 5 hours of meteorology youtube videos i watched, as well as the many, many hours of storm chasers i watched

reminder that this fic is not on AO3 yet bc tbh i want to finish it first but here’s the link to the other chapters

or follow this link to my fanfiction tag

ch 1 | ch 2 | ch 3 | ch 4 | ch 5

Four-thirty in the morning, and it was still dark. Generally, Adam wasn’t a fan of getting up before the sun, but generally, Adam was not hunting tornadoes. He rolled out of bed the minute the alarm went off, silenced it, and moved to turn on the light. Lucky beat him to it.

“You ready?” the other boy asked, dark eyes bright and eager. “You ready to go?”

“Absolutely.”

They threw on clothes - whatever they could find - and stuffed the few things they’d actually unpacked back into their bags. Adam paused only to send a text to his friends - ‘Day 1, here we go!’ - before he and the other student walked quickly into the parking lot, their excitement poorly-disguised. They arrived at the truck and stopped. It was dark. Rachael and Noel were absent. Lucky frowned, and looked at his phone.

“Oh. We’re early.” He dropped his bag to the ground, and sat on the asphalt next to it. “Oh well, better early than late.”

“Sure,” Adam agreed, leaning back against the truck and wondering if maybe the extra 15 minutes of sleep might have been worth it. He sighed and looked around. In Tadfield, the streets would have been empty at this hour. But in Austin, by the airport, cars came and went. At a lower volume, certainly, than they might in a few hours, but still, the road was not deserted by any stretch of the imagination. He wondered, distantly, where all those people might be going.

“Hey, Adam.” Lucky held up his phone. “You wanna do a snap?”

“Oh, selfie? Yeah, sure.” He crouched down next to the other boy, Lucky beaming through his beard and Adam holding up a peace sign while his blonde hair spilled over his face and shoulders. It probably would have been a good picture, had it not been so dark that the only discernible thing was two dark shadows crouched in front of a slightly reddish shadow that may have, with better lighting, looked like a truck. Undeterred, Lucky nodded approvingly and captioned it ‘day 1 fuckers!’ before sending it off, presumably to a group of friends.

“I should probably take another one for my parents and stuff, too.” This was done as a selfie only, Adam standing back up to look to the east instead, watching the sky turn purple with dawn. Although Adam didn’t like to look over anybody’s shoulder, he did note that the caption on the second photo was a tamer ‘Bright and early for storm chasing day 1!’. He smiled.

“Your parents are cool with this, huh?”

“Eh.” Lucky shrugged. “My dad is. He’s like super stereotypical masculine dude - his only concern was that I didn’t plan on taking a gun with me.” He rolled his eyes, while Adam tried not to look too shocked. Well, that was America for you. “My mom was kind of worried, but like, we always watched those storm chaser shows when I was a kid, so I think she’s excited too. She told me to send a ton of pictures.” He looked up, over his shoulder, to Adam. “Yours?”

Adam shrugged a shoulder. “They felt like it was a good opportunity, they just felt it was maybe more dangerous than needed but … eh.” He laughed. “I was more worried about my godfathers trying to stop me, but they just let me go.” He frowned. “Which is kind of weird, actually, ‘cause they seemed really worried at first, but I did tell them it was really not that dangerous, so I guess they believed me.”

Lucky was watching him with a puzzled expression. “I don’t have any godparents. Well, I mean, not that I’ve stayed in touch with. I think my parents picked some of their friends or something. But you know yours?” He thought about it. “Was your family really religious or something?” And then he winced. “Yikes, actually, that’s really personal. Sorry, don’t feel obligated.”

“Nah, it’s fine. I mean … kind of.” He snorted. “It’s weird, but I guess we’re kind of religious in a way. They taught me a lot about religion, anyway, but like, I dunno.” He shook his head. “I was heading for trouble when I was younger, and that’s sort of when they started hanging around more, I think at first to help me? But now they’re just kind of cool weird uncles.”

Lucky nodded appreciatively. “Nice.” He picked up a stone from the parking lot and chucked it, idle and bored. “I learned most of my religion from, uh, well, we had a nanny and a gardner until I was like, eight, and it was mostly them.” He laughed. “So weird, honestly - the gardner was like, a monk, I swear to God, and my nanny was actually like, a literal Satanist, like pentagrams and the whole thing, but they ended up getting married after they retired together.” Adam frowned. That was … odd. “Nanny used to like, tell me to destroy all lesser humans and stuff, and then she’d hand me off to the gardner for a few hours and he’d be like all into love of all living things or whatever.” Oh, she. Adam relaxed. A little.

Very strange.

“Up and at ‘em, eh, boys?” Noel’s voice rang across the parking lot, loud and clear even over the steadily-increasing airport traffic. “Excited for the first day?”

Adam nodded and Lucky said, “Yeah!” Rachael, tagging behind, laden with camera bags and an oversize travel mug, offered up a weak and drowsy smile. “Lots of driving on the agenda today, guys. Hopefully will get us into position to see some stuff this afternoon. But first -” she wagged the mug in the air, “we need to find a Dunkin.”

Lucky made a face. “You’re a Dunkin devotee?”

“What’s your brand?” She was packing her things into the bed of the truck, and Adam and Lucky followed suit. “Please don’t say Starbucks.”

“... Well.”

She sighed and laid her hand on his shoulder. “So I have to teach you more than just storm chasing this trip, I guess. It will be my cross to bear.” The truck started up, and Rachael brandished her mug like a sleepy knight charging into battle. “To Dunkin.” She trod around to the front passenger seat, and Lucky laughed, shutting the bed cover and heading to his seat.

Adam waited until they were in the truck and on the road before he asked, “What’s Dunkin?” He thought it over, trying to remember where he’d seen the name before. Online, certainly, but in relation to … what?

“Oh.” Rachael was watching him in the rearview mirror. “Oh, Adam. Oh, you sweet, summer child.” She turned around, slinging her arm across Noel’s shoulders. “Do you drink coffee? Or tea?”

“Both.” He considered it. “Coffee’s nice in the morning.”

“Dunkin Donuts has the best coffee in the world. Hands down, best.”

“Sometimes they burn it,” Noel said, already flinching away from the playful slap she aimed at his shoulder. “I said sometimes! Not every time!”

“Never. They never do.” She looked to her phone, where a GPS was chirping out directions to the nearest Dunkin. “I will convince you boys by the end of this session that Dunkin coffee is superior to any other coffee, and not to be unappreciated.” She sighed. “It is better than Starbucks, mark my words.” Lucky hummed, uncertain. “What’s your preferred brand, Adam?”

He thought about it. “Uh, well. I dunno. Costa is what we have in town, and that’s pretty good, but I don’t think there’s any of them over here. Starbucks is okay, I guess, in a pinch, but my godfather makes the best coffee.” He shrugged. “He’s super into it.”

Rachael nodded. “Oh, well, obviously home-brew rigs are going to beat out chain places every time.”

“She does make an amazing cup of coffee,” Noel agreed.

“But no, I don’t think I’ve ever seen a Costa.” Rachael looked thoughtful. “I’ll have to try it some day. I’ve always wanted to visit the UK, so I’ll put it on my list of things to do for that trip!”

Adam laughed. “There are definitely better things to do in England than go to Costa. If you’re serious about going, I can give you a list of stuff if you’d like.”

Noel turned into a parking lot, and Rachael yawned. “Ah, sorry. Yes, I’m definitely going to take you up on that. But first, coffee. You alright taking the first leg driving, Noel?”

“As always!” He hopped out and waited for the rest of the party to join. “The donuts are also fairly good here, so if you guys want breakfast this will probably be our stop. They have sandwiches an’ all that, too.”

“I do like their hashbrowns,” Lucky added, half a step behind Adam, hands in his pockets. “You have to have a donut though, Adam. Just to try one. It’s like … I mean, America runs on Dunkin.” He laughed. “Or at least that’s what their commercials say.”

Ultimately, Adam selected a donut for breakfast, as well as a cup of coffee. He debated getting the hashbrowns as well, but on reflection it seemed likely that this would not be his only opportunity to eat at Dunkin, and he decided to save it for another day. Rachael paid for him - “The first hit is free,” she said solemnly - and they took their leave.

The coffee was pretty good, Adam thought, sipping at it on the way back to the truck. Maybe a little too sweet. But good. Wouldn’t be the worst thing to drink for the next six weeks, anyway. He assured Rachael he thought it was delicious, and they loaded back into the truck.

Rachael spent the first portion of the drive north looking at her computer, studying the weather maps, and drinking her coffee. She and Noel talked in low voices about where to go - maybe a bit more east? Or stay westward? - and the truck rolled on. Adam, a stranger in America, watched the desert of Texas go by, pink and gold in the dawn and then bright and brown in the harsh light of day. Lucky, in spite of drinking his coffee faster than anybody probably should, was asleep within the first hour, leaned against the window with a string of drool running from the corner of his mouth. Adam considered taking a photo of him on Lucky’s own phone - it was laid on the seat between them, idle - but decided against it, instead pulling out a book about supercell formation and other weather patterns, and starting to read.

Rachael and Noel switched drivers after a few hours, stirring Lucky from his nap. With the students more awake, and no driving duties at hand, Noel took the opportunity to talk Lucky and Adam through the weather tracking software on the laptop, and discussed what they were looking for. “You want to see a big, cool system meeting with some warm air where there’s a lot of moisture,” he explained. “So here’s the barometric pressures as they stand now, and the current radar. Either of you have an idea of where we should go for ideal storm tracking?” Adam and Lucky, each with their own notebooks, did their level best to calculate the possible and likely movements of the systems. Adam considered his work and, eventually, penciled in a careful ‘x’ over a part of the map where it appeared two states met on the north side of the Oklahoma panhandle. Lucky had already finished his own calculations, and they passed their notebooks forward.

“Alright, let’s see here.” Noel turned around, one notebook in each hand and laptop open in front of him, comparing each of their calculations to his own model. Adam shifted nervously. He was pretty sure with the jet stream so far south, they wouldn’t need to go as north as Lucky had calculated, but then again he hadn’t been confident about the low-pressure area … “Both good maps,” Noel concluded at last. “But I think today we’re going to end up closer to Adam’s.” He turned back to them, smiling, and passed the notebooks back. “Partially because we won’t be able to get that far into Kansas without losing daylight, sorry Lucky, but I don’t know … we’ll have to see. Time will tell.”

“Part of storm chasing,” Rachael added in, “is guesswork. Doesn’t matter how good your models are, doesn’t matter how correct your math’s been, the weather always seems to end up surprising us. It’s part of what makes it fun! And scary, sometimes.”

“Oh, which reminds me: safety briefing.” Noel turned around, suddenly serious as the grave. Adam nodded attentively, shutting his notebook and folding his hands on top of it. “We’ll go through some of Rachael’s lightning equipment afterwards, because eventually you two are going to be doing a lot of work with that, but we need to talk safety.” He sighed and rubbed his neck. “It’s not all fun and photos out here. Let’s talk the anatomy of a storm. Lucky, you first, go over what you know about inflow and outflow, and why that’s important.”

The safety “briefing” actually lasted an entire 3 hours which, honestly, Adam appreciated. They discussed the anatomy of a supercell, the places where you were more likely to get caught off-guard by a rain-wrapped tornado, the places where lighting is more likely to be active, where and how hail forms, and how to best stay safe while studying storms. Noel showed and taught them about the ‘bear’s cage’, and made it very clear that for the most part they would be avoiding that portion of the storm, as neither Noel nor Rachael had a death wish. At the conclusion of his briefing, they stopped for lunch - fast food, which Adam viewed as a particular treat, not having much selection in Tadfield - and switched drivers again.

As they entered the Great Plains region, Adam was taken aback by just how flat everything was. Miles and miles stretched out on either side, level and grassy in the places where it wasn’t level and covered with farmland. Cows - so many cows - grazed and stood and slept and stared at the highway, sometimes, and although Rachael’s instruction on lightning and atmospheric electrical activity was truly interesting, Adam found his mind wandering.

“Adam?” he was startled from his reverie and study of the plains of the Texas panhandle by Lucky. He turned to find both the other student and Rachael smiling at him.

He blushed. “Oh, sorry.”

Rachael shrugged. “Don’t worry. It’s a lot of information. We’re probably a few hours out yet, too - are you tired? We can take a break and you can have a nap. We have you both at our mercy for the next six weeks anyway, right?”

Adam laughed. “Yeah. I might nap. Uh, if that’s okay, I mean.” Rachael waved a hand, the universal gesture of ‘go ahead’. Lucky nodded too, slouching back against the seat and stuffing a bundled-up sweatshirt between his head and the window. He was asleep in minutes, eyelids fluttering as he dreamed. Adam leaned up against the window, too, wishing he’d had the foresight to pull a sweatshirt or something out of his own luggage as a makeshift pillow. Still, even without, he found a comfortable position between the headrest and the side of the cab, and drifted off to the sound of the road beneath the truck.

He wasn’t sure how long he slept, but he didn’t dream, and when he woke up, it was because Lucky was nudging his shoulder. “Hey, dude. We’re getting there: look!”

“Whazz?” Adam blinked, bleary, and then remembered what he was doing. He focused his eyes, rubbed a bit of sleep from them, and looked to Rachael, or at least her shoulder. Her laptop was open on her lap, Baron running. Although he could only see her face in profile, she didn’t look happy.

“Check out the clouds,” Lucky said, pointing across the back seat and out of Adam’s window. “Look. Cumulonimbus.”

Noel glanced out of the window at the clouds. “Yep, for sure. Capped, though. How’s the radar looking, Rachael?”

“Not great,” she replied, glumly. “Honestly it looks like … I hate to say it, but it looks like it might fall apart.” She ran a hand over her hair, pulling a few dark strands loose from her already-messy ponytail. “It just isn’t hanging together like we want it to be.” Turning in her seat, she set the laptop on the center console, the better to show the students in the back seat what she was looking at. “You see this line of storms here? Ideally, I would have liked to see them consolidate more, but they’re spreading out into a squall line.” She pointed to one of the still-consolidated blobs on the radar. “That’s going to be a low-precipitation system, but it might be a good one to see for your first day.” She scowled as she zoomed out. “Look at that - the storms to the east look much better.”

Noel shook his head. “That’s the business, unfortunately. And things might change - you get hooks in squall lines, sometimes.”

“Well, I didn’t want to start these guys out on a bust day.” She studied the radar again after pulling the laptop back onto her knees. “I guess this looks somewhat favorable here, up by Sturgis. No hook, though.” She sighed. “Still might get some lightning and hail, though. You guys want to practice a little with the lightning equipment?”

Adam nodded eagerly. He was disappointed, a little, that the storm was falling apart, but still, a big storm and some lightning would be exciting. Maybe hail. The biggest hail he’d ever seen wasn’t even pea-sized, but he’d seen videos and photos of much larger and he figured it might be cool to see that in person. Providing the windscreen didn’t shatter. He’d seen videos of that, too. He also, he considered, might not want to be out in the hail, setting up monitoring equipment, especially if it was very large.

“Alright. Onwards to Sturgis, then.”

They arrived in Sturgis in the mid-afternoon, moving from blue skies and fluffy cumulonimbus clouds into a giant wall of white and gray. “Shelf clouds,” Rachael said, tracing across the front of the cloud formation. “Adam - what’s the difference between shelf and wall clouds? They look similar, but they’re not the same thing, yes?”

“Right.” He answered slowly, deliberately, making sure he responded as accurately as possible. “Shelf clouds typically form at the front of a storm line, where wall clouds are usually at the back. The shelf cloud is usually because the uh … The downdraft -” Rachael nodded encouragingly, “- Right, the downdraft at the leading edge of the storm cuts under the warm, moist air and forces it up which makes it have the wall shape.”

“Right! Good start for description of a shelf cloud. So a wall cloud - ?”

“Is … is due to uh, en, uh …” He flapped a hand, as if grasping for the word. “En-something, um …”

“Entrainment.” Rachael nodded. “Yeah, that’s right, good start, keep going.”

“Okay so entrainment is when the warm, moist air gets drawn up and like, starts to push out the colder air. And then the warm air continues to gather moisture and condenses into a cloud. It usually happens really quick, and in supercells wall clouds usually rotate due to the mesocyclone.” He was on firmer footing there - he hadn’t done all that reading on supercells that morning for nothing. “Usually they’re under the rain-free base of the storm, not on the leading edge.”

“Right!” She turned back to the windscreen and gestured to the clouds ahead of them. “So these are shelf clouds. They’re still in the distance a little, but what should we expect as we get closer, Lucky?”

“Gusty winds,” the other student answered quickly. “As the cold downdraft shoots forward over the warm air.”

“Right. And what will the clouds look like?”

That was tougher. “If it’s very strong winds,” he said slowly, after a break for thought, “then uh, like the clouds will be kind of messy at the leading edge, and there might be scud along the ground, right?”

“Yep. In really strong storms you can get straight-line winds, vortices along the ground, and gustnados. Which are not tornadoes, right?” She grinned as the boys in the back seat each fixed her with looks of varying puzzlement. “Yes? Either of you know the difference between a gustnado and a tornado?” Neither did, and Rachael was more than happy to explain. Adam diligently took a few notes - outflow, not inflow, and straight line winds versus cyclonic activity - and let Lucky read them over his shoulder.

“I’m not sure I really understand straight-line winds,” Adam said, when she’d finished her explanation. “I’ve read about them, but can you explain more what -”

“Yeah, for sure!” She continued on, going through the details of a straight-line wind, and how that might be more likely in a squall line than a supercell. Noel would chip in on occasion as well, although for the most part he drove deliberately, watching the clouds, taking measures of the surrounding roads and towns, and following the highways to some nebulous destination. Rachael would add a direction to him mid-lecture sometimes, after consulting Baron, and then would return to the rapt students with more information.

“This is a lot of information,” she added at the end of her lecture. “I’m glad you’re taking notes, but I don’t think many people could remember all of this after one day. We’ll go through it a few times over the weeks, alright?”

“Perfect,” Lucky said, a little glassy-eyed. “Adam, do you mind if I copy your notes? I left my notebook in my bag.”

“Yeah, no problem.”

Noel pulled over on the main highway, as if arriving in some predetermined destination that only he knew, and put the truck into park. “Seems as good a place as any to wait for it to roll in, huh?”

“Not a soul around.” Rachael kicked her door open and jumped to the dusty ground outside. “Great place to practice with the lightning instruments. And we can hang out in the car and watch the storm, as long as it’s safe, yeah?”

Adam and Lucky were already hopping out of the car and headed toward the back gate. Under Rachael and Noel’s tutelage, they set up two of Rachael’s field instruments - a high-speed camera station and a small portable weather monitoring station - and fixed them into the ground with spikes. “Not any good if you can’t find your data-gathering instruments,” Rachael laughed. “Learned that one the hard way early on.”

“Before she met me,” Noel added, and she rolled her eyes. “First chase with me and I asked her ‘so you just let the tornadoes take your high-speed cameras every time?’ and she stared at me like I had three eyeballs all of a sudden.”

“I only ever lost one to a direct hit,” she grumbled, crossing her arms over her chest and then, suddenly, wrapping them around herself more tightly. A cold breeze, no, a cold gust blew toward them, kicking up the dust and tossing it into their eyes. “Yep, there’s the gust. In the car, guys, unless you want to experience hail first-hand.”

Two minutes later, and Adam found himself wincing in solidarity with the truck as marble-sized hail hammered the roof and the windscreen. “We use special glass,” Noel shouted to them, over the noise. “It still breaks sometimes, but I have a guy that puts it in for us when we need it.” Lightning forked across the sky, and a blink later a crack of thunder split the air. Lucky jumped, right hand clenched on the door handle and left wrapped tight around his phone, forgotten. “You get that?”

“I don’t think it was a clear shot.” Rachael had her window rolled down as far as she could without letting in undue amounts of hailstones, her camera pointed out toward what had thus far been the most active part of the storm. “Working on it.”

“She can sell these shots,” Noel shouted. “Honestly, taking students and stuff is a good steady source of income, but sometimes the lightning shots are what makes a season for us.”

“No pressure or anything.” Rachael leaned back as the hail pinged off the side of the truck and into her neck. “I dunno, I think there’s too much hail and rain here.”

“You wanna move? We could run east and see if we could get ahead of it.”

She shook her head in response. “Nah, not today. Let’s wait for the worst to pass and then we’ll grab the instruments. The remote might’ve got something.” She didn’t look away from the storm, but she called, “How you two doing? You’re awfully quiet.”

“This is wicked,” Adam said loudly, over the hail, wide-eyed and watching the storm surge around the truck. It almost looked like snow on the road, the hail was falling so heavy and fast. Lucky, still glancing at the lightning shooting through the sky above, had recovered from the shock of the thunder enough to bring his phone up and start taking video. Adam, prompted by that, pulled his own phone out and started recording. “Marble-sized hail,” he explained to the video. “Just outside of Sturgis, Oklahoma.” He’d have to send it to the group when he got back on wi-fi, he resolved, before he stopped the recording and tucked his phone back into his pocket. Definitely the whole extended family of The Them - the core four and the rest of the Nahpocalypse crew - and his sister. He would decide whether or not his parents should see it later.

When the message dinged onto Crowley’s phone late that night, he and Aziraphale studiously watched Adam’s video of the hail and the storm. “Well, he doesn’t sound afraid,” Aziraphale said. “That’s good.”

“What’s he got to be afraid of?” Crowley reclined his seat and took his phone with him, swapping from the video to some game or another. “Hail wasn’t even that big. We’ve been through bigger storms than that.”

“Not while avoiding miracles,” Aziraphale replied, testily. He had not enjoyed the storm. Crowley hadn’t either, but only because the demon had spent the majority of the time threatening the 4-Runner that if it dared allow the windshield to crack, there would be absolutely horrific repercussions. Aziraphale had had to cut him off when he’d started getting into really descriptive methods of car torture.

Crowley made a noise of vague disagreement. “There were loads of humans out in it. Weren’t even scared.”

“Because they don’t know better.”

“Or because there wasn’t anything to be worried about.”

Aziraphale relented, slightly. He sat back in his seat, watching the motel across the street with disinterest. The red truck in the parking lot shone in the light. “And you didn’t sense anything evil about it?”

“Not in the slightest.” The music from the game paused. “Why? You get anything?”

Aziraphale frowned, and shook his head. “Not … exactly. But I’m uneasy about this whole thing, Crowley. Not just the weather, bad as that is, but … something feels wrong.” He crossed his legs. “I can’t put a name to it, exactly, but there’s just a strange feeling about all of this.”

“Yeah, two kids you like a lot are in a truck chasing tornadoes. Gives me a weird feeling too, angel.” He propped a foot on the steering wheel and crossed his other ankle over it. “S’called anxiety, not sure you’re familiar with it.”

“I’ve known you for 6000 years, of course I’m familiar with anxiety.”

“That was unfair.” Crowley sniffed, only theatrically offended, and the game resumed. “I have a condition.”

“Which I am familiar with, my dear demon. You’ve made my point.” He waved a hand. “Either way, that’s not the feeling I’m talking about. It’s … Well, it’s almost like we’re being watched. But I don’t sense any goodwill, and you said you’re not sensing any hatred or anger, so?” He made a vague gesture, and then settled his elbow on the windowsill, chin in his hand. “It’s a bit hard to describe.”

Crowley looked to him over the rims of his glasses. “You know, now that you brought it up, I’ve noticed it too. Just thought it was being out of England, though. Or a demon thing.” He shifted in his seat. “We’ll have to pay attention tomorrow.”

“Yes. Yes, quite.” He glanced sidelong at Crowley. “You don’t notice it now, though?”

“There’s a cow about 600 yards that way staring at the road,” Crowley said, pointing to the west. “Only thing watching us around.” Aziraphale hummed a noise of agreement, and settled back. “Do you ever get bored of your games?” he asked, at length, gingerly sliding the seat back and propping his feet on the dashboard. The 4-Runner’s engine purred and the fuel gauge needle, which had been on ‘E’ since early that morning, fluttered. Crowley glared at the radio. “Don’t you start that. Bad enough the Bentley loves him.”

“Jealous?”

“Possibly slightly.” Crowley tapped the phone screen a few times, and then groaned. “‘Course I get bored of this stuff. But, you know.” He let his head fall back. “Can’t read, didn’t pick an audiobook yet, and I’m not interested in the thing you’re reading right now, sorry.” He unpaused the game. “I’ve got a few podcasts but, eh, you probably wouldn’t like them. Suppose I could get out some headphones,” he considered, after a moment.

“What’s a podcast?” Aziraphale asked, hands folded on his stomach.

Crowley looked at him, eyebrows raised, although he wasn’t sure why he was surprised. Aziraphale had yet to even get a mobile, and his technological comfort zone didn’t go much past 1945. “Like a … ah, like a radio show? Can be about anything. Educational, entertaining, unsolved mysteries, ah … interviews …”

The angel looked intrigued. “Like a radio play, you said?”

“Some of ‘em, yeah.”

“Let’s try it.”

The game paused again. “Really, Aziraphale? Go on, I know you’d rather read your … what’s it called? Mainlander? The one with the time travel lady, right?��

“Outlander, yes.”

“Right. You can read your book, I’ll put headphones on if I feel like listening -”

Aziraphale pouted. “But I’d like to listen to one.”

The demon looked dubious of this assertion. “Really? You’re serious?”

“You like them, don’t you?”

“Yeah.”

“Then pick one you’d think I’ll like and we’ll listen together.” Crowley looked shocked. Aziraphale sighed, and reached across the center console, hand outstretched. Comfortably, Crowley slid his into it. “You listened to me read an entire Outlander book, even though you hated it -”

“I didn’t hate -”

“Let’s try a podcast, Crowley.” He squeezed the demon’s hand. “You like the funny ones, I’m sure.”

Crowley watched him for a minute, as if waiting for the other shoe to drop, and then cautiously, closed his game and flipped to a different app. “If you’re sure.” He chewed his lip. “And, uh, yeah. I prefer the funny ones.” He considered the options, squinting at the enlarged print on the screen over the tops of his glasses. “Right. What’re you in the mood for? Murder, dungeons and dragons, advice, ah … no, that’s technology, you wouldn’t like that one, ah, oh, and history.”

Aziraphale’s eyebrows had gone up when Crowley had started listing the options. “I thought you said you preferred the funny ones.”

“I did do, yeah.”

“Murder?”

“It’s a comedy murder podcast.” Crowley caught a glimpse of his expression, and snorted. “It works but we can skip that.”

Aziraphale pursed his lips. “Hm. What kind of history?”

“American, mostly.”

“Do that one.”

“Right.” He tapped something on the screen, and then handed the phone to Aziraphale. “Pick a title that looks interesting. Just tap on it when you want it, and then tap the little triangle in the bottom left.” There were a few quiet minutes while the angel browsed, and then he grinned. “Do you have any idea what ‘whalesplosion’ might be about?”

“At a guess,” Crowley sighed, “an exploding whale?”

“I suppose we’ll find out. I wonder how it relates to American history.”

“Never paid as much attention to America,” Crowley agreed, adjusting himself in the seat to hold Aziraphale’s hand more comfortably, while the other laboriously hit ‘play’ on the podcast. The 4-Runner, which had never linked its bluetooth capabilities with Crowley’s phone, and indeed hadn’t really wanted to, nevertheless did so, projecting ‘You’re listening to the Dollop on -’ over the top-of-the-line speakers* with beautiful crystal clarity.

[*Which it hadn’t had, until Crowley had sat in it.]

Twenty minutes later, and Aziraphale and Crowley both were laughing, exchanging incredulous looks, and wordlessly agreeing that they really should be paying more attention to America. And that they would certainly be choosing a second episode at the conclusion of the first one.

Now with Chapter 7!

#good omens #good omens fanfiction #adam young #warlock dowling #anthony j crowley #aziraphale #i wish i didn't enjoy fanfiction so much #the one where they go to america

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paradisobound · 5 years

Text

I Want It, I Got It: Chapter 6

Summary: Phil Lester was a worker for the BBC in London. Working in the advertising department, he was content being alongside his friend and fellow coworker PJ during every shift. However, the BBC is temporarily being used as a film set for a new movie staring Hollywood ‘It’ star, Daniel Howell. Being stuck as an extra on the set, Phil finds it’s hard to ignore the famous star. And maybe, just maybe, Dan finds it hard to ignore Phil as well.

Word Count: 2.7k (this chapter)

Warnings: Occasional swearing

Rating: Mature (for right now)

Updates will be every Wednesday and Sunday

**MASTERLIST | READ ON AO3**

Thanks to my new lovely beta @thatphatdanussy who has already begun making some great edits to this monstrosity of a fic lol

Almost as if time didn’t exist, Tuesday came. Phil doesn’t quite remember how the past four days had gone by other than he spent majority of them with Spike on his couch or working on his computer on his assignment.

But somehow, Tuesday came, and suddenly, it was infinitely more real that he was going to be showing Daniel Howell around London. To say he was nervous was a total understatement.

Phil was borderline sick from nerves.

He didn’t sleep at all Monday night, and when he did manage to sleep, he somehow found himself waking up every twenty minutes or so feeling like he was going to be sick. He eventually resorted to getting up and taking a few melatonin pills before collapsing back into bed, at least a little bit more drowsy this time.

His alarm woke him up at half past eight and he slowly began to get up, despite his body’s protests to remain glued to his bed. He quickly showered, brushed his teeth, and put in his contacts before he checked his phone and saw a message from Daniel.

Daniel Howell: good morning my manager is saying that I should get to the BBC as stealthily as possible so im sadly already here ill be waiting just inside the doors.

Phil sighed. He knew that Dan had just told him not to hurry, but now he felt like he had to hurry up so he didn’t keep him waiting. They were supposed to meet at the BBC at around 10 and it was only a little after 9 now.

Phil quickly made himself an instant coffee to go and said his goodbyes to Spike before rushing out of his flat and down to the nearest tube station.

When he arrived at the BBC, it was a quarter to 10 and Phil honestly thought that the timing could be worse. But he was super relieved to not see the fangirls situated around the BBC anymore and having it look like normal. Phil was happy to see it as it’s normal building and not a mob of police tape and teenagers.

He walked inside, scanning his badge as he did so, and made his way towards the only area he could think of that Dan would be in. He turned a corner, and sitting directly in one of the lounge chairs was Daniel Howell, sitting with his legs crossed. He was wearing a pair of tight black ripped jeans, and even though he was donning a very expensive looking jacket, Phil could just barely make out a fuzzy black sweater underneath.

He looked down at himself and frowned as he noticed that maybe his red and white striped shirt and jean jacket wasn’t the best choice. But he shook his head and tried to not be self-conscious around Daniel.

Daniel was a movie star and probably a multimillionaire. He shouldn’t be comparing their outfit choices.

Daniel spotted him nearly immediately and looked up, flashing Phil another one of his dazzling smiles. On the right of Dan, Phil could see a massive guy stood with his arms folded over his chest. And just the other way, there was a short woman who was sitting in a chair next to him.

Dan stands up, and the man and woman follow suit. Phil suddenly feels intimidated, but forces a smile anyway.

“Hey!” Dan says with a smile again. “This is Joshua.” He points to the large man who just barely raises his hand in a calm gesture. “And this is my manager Marianne.” He points to the woman. “Please don’t be intimidated by them. They wouldn’t hurt a fly.”

Joshua grumbles and Phil feels his stomach sink. He definitely can see that Joshua is not one to mess around with. “If you say so,” Phil laughs cautiously.

Joshua chuckles to himself and Phil suddenly feels like he wants to collapse onto the floor and cry. But he won’t, obviously. So he chuckles a little bit―albeit awkwardly, and then extends his hand out in some haphazard form of a greeting. Dan raises an eyebrow and then extends his hand and they make contact for a brief second as Dan’s hand slots a little bit too easily into Phil’s.

His hand is warm, and soft. But it’s also gentle and strong at the same time. Phil doesn’t know why he notices this, but he does. And when they let go, he misses the feeling of it in his hand.

He shakes the thought away.

This was Daniel Howell. He can find him attractive but this little...crush...wasn’t going to do. He needed to shake the thought now.

“Are you ready to get going?” Phil asks Dan.

Dan nods quickly. “Yes! Do you fancy we could stop somewhere quickly for food? I’m quite starved.”

Phil was taken completely back by the natural, posh, London accent Dan spoke in.When he’d read about Dan online, he thought for sure Dan’s accent would be much more Americanized but in a way, his accent was more British than Phil’s. It was quite amazing.

“Oh, of course!” Phil said, his own coffee having gone cold in his hand. “We can go anywhere really. There are a few Gregg’s around and also some Starbucks. I also think there’s a Costa around here too.”

“We can just go to Starbucks.” Dan says with a shrug. “I’m not really too picky. I’m not much of a coffee drinker but I’ll take some tea and maybe a cake.”

“Okay!” Phil’s trying so hard to not be awkward about this. “It’s right down the street.”

Dan smiles at him and then they set off.

Phil watches as Dan says something to Marianne and she remains in her place, unmoving as they leave. Joshua is trailing behind them by a good few feet. But that still makes Phil feel a little bit on edge, knowing his every move was being watched.

They were fine walking on the streets as not many people were around on an early Tuesday morning. But once they stepped foot inside of Starbucks, it was over.

Phil kind of―well, not kind of, he did expect this―knowing he was going to be out in the open with Dan all day but he was prepared for the exact level of madness it was going to be.

Daniel had barely walked up to the counter when people started rushing to be around him. Phil could see people trying to take photos of him and try to hide the fact that they were doing so. He saw people immediately typing on phones and worse yet, he could see people staring at him. People were staring him down like he was an enemy.

Well, maybe to some people he was. He’d seen some of the not-so-nice things people wrote about him when people saw that Dan had followed him. He’d repressed those tweets, but he still remembered them. He could only imagine what was going to happen now.

“We can go somewhere else.” Phil says, his voice cutting through the air.

Dan shook his head and flashed a smile that Phil could see was obviously forced. “No, it’s gonna happen no matter where we go today.”

Phil gave a sad nod and watched as Dan tried to place an order while the barista was clearly having a major fangirl attack behind the till. He felt bad, in a way, for both of them. He felt like he shouldn’t but he did.

Dan eventually had his order placed and he paid quickly with what Phil could see was a black credit card and he immediately felt his face flush. But he moved quickly in line, placed his order for a tall chai tea, paid and moved on.

Joshua moved with Dan so Dan wasn’t in any danger by being in here. Phil was pretty sure Joshua would tackle any person who even dared to get near Dan. But that didn’t stop Phil from worrying.

He shouldn’t be worrying. Dan was probably used to this.

“Daniel!”

Dan’s head shot up and Phil watched as he quickly grabbed his order and then flashed a smile at Phil again and he and Joshua retreated quickly out of the door. Phil grabbed his order next and thanked the barista who was clearly still star struck. And then he left as well.

Dan was standing off the side of the shop, trying to mask himself into the building. Joshua was stood on guard around him as Dan slowly opened his Starbucks order and took a bite of whatever sandwich he was getting.

“Sorry about that.” Dan says once he’s swallowed the bite. “It’s going to happen no matter where we go today. It’s not something I can escape, sadly.”

“I’m sorry.” Phil spits out. “I’m sorry that you go through that.”

Dan shrugs. “Comes with the job, right?”

Phil tries to ignore the clear and present sadness that is laced in Dan’s words and he’s suddenly feeling extremely bad about all that he’s said about Dan to PJ and even Gemma and some other coworkers.

The first place that Phil decides to take them is the London Eye. They hail down a cab and they all get into it as the driver takes them to Westminster. Dan sits besides Phil on the bucket seat while Joshua sits across from them his arms folded.

When Dan caught Phil staring at Joshua, he chuckled. “I promise he’s not actually mean.”

“Has he ever had to tackle somebody?” Phil asks, his voice aa whisper.

Dan nods and takes a sip of his hot drink. “Multiple times.”

Phil sputters and Dan laughs again.

The laugh is almost angelic and Phil really wishes he could hear more of it.

They get to the London Eye and Phil takes them over to buy tickets. When he offers to pay for them both, Dan waves him off and shoves his card it the cashier instead.

“I was the one who asked you to take me around London. The least you can do is let me pay for some of the expenses.”

Phil blushes. “Only if you’re sure.”

“I’m sure!” Dan announces quickly as he grabs the three tickets and gives one to Phil.

They’re almost about to get in line when they’re being ushered by workers to go into an advanced line. Phil can almost see the pain in Dan’s face at knowing he was being treated differently due to his status but he didn’t deny the offer.

They made it to the front of the line before anyone else and they were given their own pod to ride in on the eye. Once inside, the doors shut, Dan walked over to the glass windows and looked out.

“I never got to experience London.” He says softly. “Even as a kid. I lived so close to here but my family never brought me or my brother here. I’ve been here for films but I’m normally so booked that I don’t even have time to go look around.”

Phil stands beside him and looks at him. He looks gorgeous in these lights. His brown hair is perfectly styled and curled. His cheeks are a perfect shade of rosey red. His eyes are gleaming but dark, like honey.

For the first time since Phil has seen Dan since meeting for the first time on set, he can see how stunning Dan is. Dan is stunning. He’s gorgeous.

And Phil is totally fucked.

“Is that Big Ben?” Dan breaks through the silence to point at the large tower in the distance.

“Yes it is.” Phil says, letting his clouded mind clear. “But it’s under construction right now so you can’t see any of it.”

“That’s a shame.” Dan says. “I’ve always heard about the bells.”

“It’s been weird,” Phil says, a small smile on his lips, “no longer hearing the bells in London.”

“How long have you lived in London for?” Dan asks, turning his back to the window now and resting his weight against the rail.

“8 years now.”

“8 years?!” Dan exclaims.

Phil nods. “Been working at the BBC for almost all ten as well.”

‘That’s mad.” Dan laughs. “I haven’t lived in the same house in the past 5 years for more than ten months, let alone 8 years. I’ve been having to move so often because fans keep finding my address.”

Phil furrows his brows and lets the smile he was showing all from his lips. “Your fans find your address?”

Dan nods, his expression solemn. “Nothing of mine is private anymore, Phil.” His voice is sad. “I can guarantee that if you go onto Twitter right now, headlines are already making waves that ‘Daniel Howell was spotted in Starbucks with mysterious man’. They never give up.”

“Is it hard?”

“Is what hard?”

“Is it hard being famous like you are?”

Phil doesn’t know why he asks that, but he does.

Dan shrugs. “In a way yeah.” He says. “It’s an interesting lifestyle but...”

The eye starts to slow down and when Phil looks, he can see they’re already beginning their descent back down.

Nothing more is said. It’s quiet and deafening and when the doors open, a mob of people and paparazzi are waiting. Phil isn’t prepared for the complete onslaught of cameras and phones and flashes to be thrown into his face until suddenly their is a hand resting on his arm, tugging him away.

When he looks down, his heart races as he sees Dan grabbing his jacket and trying to get him out of the mob of people. A car is waiting for them and Joshua immediately runs and opens the door just as soon as Dan jumps in and Phil follows.

Joshua climbs in with them and as they look, there are fans running for the car. Some are even running to try to climb on the car. But they’re driving off and away.

When Phil looks over to Dan beside him, ready to thank him for yanking him out of the mob, he notices that Dan’s eyes are glassy. He’s about to speak up when he sees a tear leak down Dan’s cheek and Phil feels the hurt. He feels that pain, even if it’s for a second. Because this lifestyle is...well it appears to be shit.

And suddenly, Phil gets it.

***

Phil sees all of the tweets and headlines before he goes to bed that night.

“DANIEL HOWELL SEEN WITH MYSTERIOUS MAN AFTER FINISHING FILMING MOVIE IN LONDON.”

“DANIEL HOWELL’S NEW BEAU? WE’VE GOT THE EXCLUSIVE PICTURES.”

“WHO IS THE MAN PICTURED WITH DANIEL HOWELL?”

Phil feels quite sick looking at them.

He also feels quite sick knowing that his day was cut short because of them. The driver had taken them back to the BBC following the awful fan encounter and Dan apologized profusely when he exclaimed he wasn’t feeling well and would like to return back to his hotel.

Phil didn’t argue. He saw the tears on Dan’s face when they stepped out of the car from when he silently wept after what had happened. Phil would never ask him about it.

He also saw the tweets from Dan that followed.

@danielhowell: I’ve said this more than once but please do not follow me. I appreciate you all so much but it’s not okay to follow me around. (1)

@danielhowell: also please do not follow my car once I get into it. It’s not only unsafe for you, but it’s unsafe for me as well. Please know that your safety means the world to me and that’s not okay (2).

to@danielhowell:

@softdaniel: was that the amazingphil guy that you were pictured with in London???

to@softdaniel:

@yasmin__road: it has to be! The photos of the guy lined up with the same guy Dan just followed on Insta! I bet it’s a secret relationship.

to@yasmin__road

@danielhowell: phil is just a friend but I would appreciate it if you left him out of tweets like this. Thank you.

Phil read though more of them and eventually shut his phone off.

#phan #phanfic #phanfiction #au #famous!dan #moviestar!dan #normal!phil #princesslexi763fics

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puns-and-fics-has-moved · 7 years

Text

Finding Her

Part 2/5

<<Previous Next>>

Pairing: marliza (maria x eliza)

Premise: modern soulmate au – Eliza and Maria desperately seek their soulmate in a world where their first words to you are written on your arm from birth.

Warnings: swearing

Word Count: 1698

a/n: enjoy <3

“Wow!” Eliza cried, grinning. “Um… hi. I’m Eliza … what’s your name?

The beautiful girl swallowed, having trouble thinking. “Um… Maria.”

A gorgeous smile lit up Eliza’s features. “That’s a really beautiful name! And, if I may say, you’re really beautiful too, like… your smile is amazing.”

Maria was taken aback. No one had ever complimented her smile. It was always something about her body or her face… never her smile. “Thanks…”

“Look, I’m so sorry, I have to go teach a lesson, but when does your shift end?” Eliza asked in a rush of excitement.

“At three,” Maria replied hesitantly.

“Can I see you then?” Eliza asked, smiling shyly.

Maria nodded, attempting to smile. Eliza waved sweetly and left.

“Do you not want your coffee?” Maria called, but Eliza was already gone.

Eliza pulled on her hat and mittens as she stepped out into the cold January air. That hadn’t gone as she’d always hoped. Maria was beautiful, but she didn’t seem interested in Eliza. At all. She barely smiled at her, looking too shocked to speak full sentences.

Shivering as she shuffled through the slush on the sidewalk, Eliza thought about meeting Maria at three. Maybe she could bring flowers… violets or roses… and then they could go on a walk or to a movie. Eliza couldn’t believe that this was the beginning of the rest of her life with a soulmate. She’d dreamed about this for years… sure the other party had always seemed more interested in her imagination, but she was sure Maria would come around. They were soulmates, after all.

As soon as Eliza had left, Maria leaned on the counter, head in hands, and groaned. What the hell had just happened?

Her co-worker, Aaron, left his cash register, the line having been cleared, and leaned on the counter next to Maria.

“What’s going on?” he asked.

“I’m… I just met my soulmate,” Maria stuttered out, barely believing the words she was saying.

“Wow! Congratulations. Which one was he?”

Maria groaned again. He. It was supposed to be a he. She wasn’t a lesbian… “Can soulmates be just friends?”

Aaron looked taken aback. “Um… I’ve never heard of that happening. Why?”

“It’s a girl,” Maria said. “My soulmate is a girl.”

“Really? Oh, was she the really pretty one with the long hair?”

“Yeah… I guess so.”

“She seemed really nice,” Aaron smiled. “Really sweet. I guess to balance out your salt.”

“Excuse me?” Maria laughed, punching him on the arm. Aaron laughed too, and started to wipe down the counter. Maria’s face settled back into her pensive pout.

“Don’t you think it’s weird that my soulmate’s a girl?”

“Why would it be weird?” asked Aaron.

“Because I’m straight!”

“Clearly you’re not,” he laughed. “Just get to know her, I’m sure you’ll figure it out.”

Three o’clock came, and Eliza was waiting expectantly in the alcove of the coffee shop, excitement boiling inside her stomach as she clutched a bouquet of violets. Maria exited from behind the counter, took a steadying breath, and walked up to her soulmate.

“Hey,” she said.

Eliza grinned widely. “Hi Maria! Um… I got you flowers…”

Maria spared a quick smile that didn’t touch her eyes, blushing slightly. She didn’t want this to be a date, but Eliza was making that quite difficult.

“Thanks.”

“So… do you want to go on a walk, or we could go see a movie, or grab something to eat, or –?”

“How about some coffee?” Maria said, not wanting it to be something so romantic.

“Coffee? Where? Here?” Eliza asked, confused that after working a 6-hour shift in a coffee place Maria would want to stay.

“No. At the Starbucks across the street.”

“O… kay,” Eliza smiled, still a little confused, but excited to get to know this girl. “So, how was your shift?”

“It was fine. Pretty empty, as usual. ‘Cause of the Starbucks.”

“Right. You know, I’ve actually never been to Starbucks. I’ve only ever been to Costa Coffee or, when there wasn’t one around, Bodegas or whatever.”

“Wow. Weird,” Maria said.

“Well, I mean, it said Costa Coffee on my arm, so I figured –”

“Yeah. I’ve worked at a few coffee shops, trying to find… well, you, I guess.”

“Yeah. Me,” Eliza smiled. They entered the Starbucks and got in the long line. There was a silence as they each figured out what to order, then once they’d received their drinks (Eliza paying), they found a seat by the window.

“Why would they call it a ‘tall’ if it’s a small?” Eliza asked, clutching her tea tightly.

“To be fancy, I guess,” Maria said, shrugging.

“Right,” Eliza said.

There was an awkward silence before Maria realized she was being extremely rude. She hadn’t asked Eliza one thing about herself. Straightening up in her seat, Maria asked, “So what do you do?”

Eliza smiled. “I’m a piano teacher. I go to people’s houses and I teach them how to play piano, and… well, it’s not a big deal, but some nights I play in hotel lobbies and things like that. I do weddings, too… I wanted to be a school teacher, but I can’t spell for shit, so I figured that wouldn’t be good…”

“You have the writing for a teacher,” Maria said, relaxing a little and pointing at her tattoo.

“I’ve been told,” Eliza laughed, noticing Maria’s tension easing a little. “Anyway, do you go to Columbia?”

“I got my undergraduate there. In visual art. AKA, the reason why I’m working at a coffee shop.”

Eliza laughed kindly. “That’s cool, though. Do you still do art?”

“Yeah, sometimes… not as much though.”

Maria was relaxing quite a bit. Eliza was easy to talk to. She seemed so genuinely interested in everything Maria had to say. She wasn’t used to this kind of attention; Eliza seemed so… caring.

“I’d love to see it sometime,” Eliza grinned, leaning forward with a beaming smile on her face.

Maria felt inclined to lean forward as well, but something in her stomach caught. This was a girl. She tensed up again, and it did not go unnoticed by Eliza.

“Are you okay, Maria?”

“Yeah. I’m fine. But, I guess I should be going.”

Eliza’s face fell. “Okay, yeah. Where are you going? I mean, I could walk you –?”

“No,” Maria cut her off quickly. “That’s okay. I’m just down the street.”

Eliza tried not to let the hurt show on her face. “Right. Well, can I text you or something? Later?”

Maria thought about it. This girl was her soulmate. Maybe she should give her a chance…

“Sure,” she said, extending her hand for Eliza’s phone. She quickly entered a contact and turned to leave.

“Maria,” Eliza said as the other girl walked away. She turned at the sound of her name. “It was really nice to meet you.”

Maria smiled slightly, touched by her genuine kindness. “You too,” she replied, closing the door after her and leaving the violets behind.

After an hour on the subway, Eliza finally made it back to the apartment she shared with her two sisters. It was a cozy place, warmly decorated, with books overflowing every shelf (all Angelica’s, though the others read them too) and blankets and pillows everywhere, all in bright candy colours. Normally just the sight of her home could cheer Eliza up, but she was upset from the way her date had gone. Was it even a date? Maria didn’t seem interested at all.

“You’re back late, Eliza, what’s up?” Peggy asked from the kitchen, where she was making dinner for them all.

Angelica was on the counter, reading The Second Sex for the millionth time. She looked up from her book and saw clearly that Eliza was upset. She stood up immediately and hugged Eliza.

“Who do I have to punch?” she asked, taking a step back and looking up and down her sister, trying to see if she was in any way damaged.

“No one,” Eliza laughed. “I, uh – I met my soulmate.”

“Oh my God, who is she?” Peggy cried.

“She’s, well… she’s beautiful. Like, really, really beautiful. But she seems really uncomfortable or something. Like… like she’s not happy that we’re soulmates. I don’t know what it is. We got coffee together and for a little bit, I kinda thought she liked me, but then – I don’t know, she just kind of… rejected me? I mean, she just really wanted the date to be over, and I’m not even sure it was a date! Plus, I got her flowers and she… well, she left them behind.”

Eliza’s eyes teared up as she finished her rambling. Peggy, noticing the tears, pulled her into a hug. Angelica, meanwhile, looked thoughtful.

“Maybe she’s surprised you’re a girl,” Angelica said.

“Hmm?” Eliza grunted, raising her face from Peggy’s shoulder.

“I don’t know, it sounds like she’s denying some feelings. Maybe she didn’t know she was queer.”

“Huh,” Eliza huffed thoughtfully. “That would make sense.”

“My advice,” Angelica continued, taking the mom role as always, “is to keep at it. She’ll come around. Why don’t you ask her out again?”

Eliza nodded and pulled out her phone. She and her sisters deliberated for almost half an hour before crafting the perfect message;

Hey Maria, it’s Eliza. I hope this isn’t weird for you, but I’d really like to get to know you better! Do you want to grab dinner sometime?

“It’s perfect. It’s casual, it acknowledges that she seemed uncomfortable, and it’s definitely a date,” Peggy said with finality. “Send it.”

Eliza looked to Angelica for confirmation. After a moment of thought, she nodded seriously. “Send it.”

Eliza did so, and she and her sisters sat down for dinner with her phone lying on the table. Even when it hadn’t buzzed, they grabbed for it every now and then, just checking to make sure she hadn’t replied. After dinner was done and the kitchen was almost clean, finally a buzz signified a text.

Hands dripping with dish soap, Eliza rushed to the table and her sisters crowded behind her.

Maria: Saturday at 6? La Lanterna di Vittorio?

Grinning, Eliza shot back: It’s a date.

#marliza #marliza fanfic #soulmate au #soulmate tattoos #hamilton soulmate au #hamilton fanfic #hamiltrash #hamilton #hamilton an american musical #eliza schuyler #peggy schuyler #angelica schuyler #maria reynolds #maria x eliza #eliza x maria

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warwickholdingwords · 4 years

Text

Wake Up and Smell the Coffee

I can’t stand coffee culture, I really dislike it, which seems odd to most people who know me.

I am a coffee shop owner, or café, as it was known in the good old days.

I also live in Brighton, where apparently, we consume more coffee per head than anywhere else in the U.K. Unfortunately, we probably have more coffee shops than people it seems.

Costa, Starbucks, Cafe Nero, obviously, but then come the “Artisan” shops, ( I won’t bother naming them), also selling Artisan bread, which looks like bread with bird seed on it to me. Anything labelled Artisan just costs three times more.

Latte, Cappuccino, Mocha, Espresso, Americano, Flat White, Long Black, Doppio...Blah Blah Blah.

It’s hard enough as a café owner dealing with the ever expanding list of new names, and variations, but then come the high maintainance customers.

“Hi, I’ll have semi skinny, decaf, double shot, extra fair trade, vegan, oat milk , not soya, ethical, made with holy water Cafe Breve please”

I’m a firm believer in asking for what you want, but come on, drink water, or maybe just stay in. It’s a cup of coffee, it doesn’t have to be so complicated.

There is a snobbery that has risen along with the culture, you can literally have a cup of “crap coffee” for over $100 a go.

It is retrieved from the shit of the Civet cat, which has eaten and digested it. A friend of mine commented, how it was a bit like a night with a Hooker, as he said it sucks, and leaves a bad taste in the mouth, and an empty wallet.

It’s not that I don’t appreciate the custom, I really do, but if I’m honest, how much can one earn from selling one hot beverage, to a Fresh Faced Post Millennial, who has recently moved up from fizzy pop to the Aribica bean?.

Let’s be straight, with their tablet, or laptop, spread out over an area large enough for four people, they can stay for hours, milking (oat obviously)the free WiFi, as they attempt to become the next gigantic micro influencer, on Instagram. The only cost is on muggins here, as they bleed my electricity, charging their numerous electronic devices. My small Seafront café now converted, to a rent free makeshift office, with all amenities, all for the price of a solitary medium Cappuccino.

Like my coffee, I’m not bitter though. Unless, the hot water brigade enter, demanding a cup of boiling H20, in which they can place their own maple bacon pancake tea into (it is a real flavour).

“Oh Yes, but it’s all about community” I here you say, no it’s not. Most people are frantically tapping away on their iPhones, as their long suffering partner does the same next to them. I hear zero conversations, other than snippets of a one sided Hands Free Power talk as a Gen-Z er discusses drop shipping with his mother. There is also the music lover, wearing oversized Bluetooth headphones, oblivious to my repeated question of “would you like another?”, after spotting the dregs remaining at the bottom of the cup.

I love to watch the reruns of Friends, and cast my mind back to those halycon days, where murmurs of chit chat and laughter were abundant, but having an oversized sofa in a café, is a danger these days, and I am pretty sure may be against the Health and Safety regulations, that violate our constitutional rights.

I’m curious as to whether the rumoured new Friends project, will try and depict the current coffee culture, Ross and Rachel breaking up by text, An ageing Joey swiping right on Tinder, Chandler and Monica taking pictures of Frappuccinos and Gluten free cakes, and posting them on Facebook.

Maybe it’s not coffee culture, I have a distaste for. More likely the change in coffee culture, which I witness becoming less about community and social interaction, and more about self, and digital distraction.

I have to move with it, and keep smiling, as I receive another death stare, for asking if they would like sugar, and although that may be the case, please don’t expect me to like it.

You Kenco and .... yourself.

0 notes

scotgmeyer · 5 years

Text

Germany Beer Journal

Beer journal

DAY 1: Augustina - Pilsner (hell) a at Mokkacino

Next was a weibier. Larger and a bit darker. The beers here are $3 it’s ridiculous.

Each glass here has a fill line on it - I guess so bar tenders don’t cheat their customers. So great.

I’m at this bar and they are playing all of these American hits. And then nickleback comes on, lol. It’s amazing.

Bar tender speaks 0 words of English. I’ve not encountered a language barrier so bad ever I don’t think. In Italy I could speak enough to get by. Same in Costa Rica. Canada speaks English obviously. But this woman speaks no English and doesn’t understand my horrendous attempts at speaking a few words of German based on what I have looked up on google translator. Lol.

I’m finishing the night with an espresso in hopes that it keeps me up until past 9:30 so I can get on the right sleep schedule. At this bar that means nespresso, lol. Still good.

I asked for a glass of water to drink with my beer and she didn’t understand why I would possibly want that. It requires that I point at the faucet and a glass 3-4 times before she was willing to oblige and fill a beer glass with water. Far cry from California where most places keep a pitcher of water on the table.

Day 2: beer 3 - backerei konditorei cafe schmuck

After walking about 12 miles, I stop in the town of Grassau before heading back to my hotel to get a coffee and a snack. Being Germany, that means a pretzel, a mini apple streusel pastry and a beer. This time I opted for a Weizen Hell which seems like it equates to a heifeweizen back in the states. A wheat beer of sorts that is still pretty light.

Coffee is a thing here but it’s not super strong and it seems like just another substitute for water, similar to how they drink beer. Still flabbergasted that a half liter of beer costs 3€ here. The beer is smooth and not hoppy at all like American craft beers that have gotten popular in past 10 years

Beer 4 and 5: Dinner at WEbnerhof Hotel

After initially setting out to walk back into Grassau for dinner, i decide to eat at the hotel instead because a number of cars pulled into the parking lot as I walked out and I realized that I wanted some authentic bravarian food anyway, so that was probably a great bet. It was.

Again, no english whatsoever but I just picked some random items on the menu that looked like soup and wiener shnitzel and went with it. One was a soup with vegetables and two large beef meatballs. After a coldish rainy day, it was delicious.

I started off with an Austeiner Pilsner, similar to my first beer the night before. This seems to be the go-to light beer in this region and I think possibly their replacement for drinking water. Not that its not good, but its very lite and doesn’t seem to have a ton of alcohol in it. Highly drinkable.

With my shnitzel (served straight out of the fryer - awesome and hot) i had a Weibner Hell’s, a golden wheat beer. These are my favorite.

At dinner I sat and observed the people around me, some fo them probably making fun of the fact that I was here eating and drinking alone. I also had my kindle with me so spent time reading The Obstacle is The Way. Looking to finish 3 books on this trip!

NOw waiting in the lobby for the taxi to come grab me to take me to the next town which I think is a ski town where I take the lift up to the top to get started. Just walked in the door so we’re off. Here we go! Day 3 (hike day 2).

Beer 6: about 3/4 of the way through my hike today I stopped at a little mid mtn chalet for a beer and a coffee. The place was amazing. It made me want to come skiing in Europe even more than I already do. The restaurant probably could fit 50-75 people. Being summer/shoulder season there were only 5 of us there - they are still offering the full menu and fully staffed. It’s awesome. You get the sense that many of the owners of restaurants, businesses, bars here take a great deal of pride in their work, presumably because they are family businesses. I sipped my beer sloppy, downed my coffee while I admired the view and read The Obstacle is The Way (Ryan Holiday) on my kindle. Btw I think this beer was hoffbrahaus beer which was a lighter Pilsner like beer.

Beer 7: hells down in Ruhpolding. After arriving in down slightly dehydrated and a bit tired, I found my hotel, showered, and set out for a snack. I settled on a bakery across the way and got a shot of espresso, a pretzel, and a donut with peach filling. All pretty fire. I then proceeded to walk around the town. Ruhpolding was definitely more happening than the other towns I’d been through and it seemed more akin to a normal mtn town with majority of the businesses being focused on activity or dining/drinking. Still no Americans.

I think that has been something I’ve realized about this trip. Traveling solo is great when you know you can go out and meet new people anywhere. It’s more difficult and perhaps a bit lonelier when you go out and no one around understands you or can really communicate with you. Nonetheless I am really enjoying having my time to read and recharge. Just getting over the jet lag I think and hopefully tonight will be a great night’s sleep.

After my pretzel and espresso and pastry I explore town a bit and checked into a few stores to see if anything cool to take away as a souvenir. Nothing really to be had. So I continued on to another coffee shop, bought a full cup of coffee, pulled out my kindle and read my book more. This coffee place felt more like a big Starbucks with a modern aesthetic and quick drink service. I drank my coffee out on the patio which was situated right off a roundabout that seemed like the main intersection in town. It looked out on the mountains and the direction that I think I’m headed for my hike tomorrow. After finishing my coffee I decided to walk around a bit more and explore some shops. That was short lived and I returned to my same seat on the patio and ordered a beer - this one a hells. This is a light type of beer too and fine but not anything special. I think I’ve determined that I like the hefe or weißers - similar to a hefeweizen back in the US.

Beer 8 and 9: people don’t write reviews in Germany so it’s tough to really know which food places, bars, restaurants are going to be good. I decided to wander into Janos, a Hungarian Bavarian place a few steps from my hotel with big wooden tables and more people than any of the other bars. I made the right order this time....a weißer. I also ordered goulash and a grilled meat plate to stock up on some protein. I’m still more than a week out and I’m already looking forward to vegetables when I get Home. That said, I’m loving living the Bavarian diet for right now - beer, meat, potatoes, pretzels, pastries. When hiking 10-12 miles a day I guess that works and you don’t get fat. We’ll see if I’m still feeling fit in a week. Currently sitting at the table in Janos considering #10 of the trip. Why not, right?

Okay. I went for #10. I just asked for whatever the guy recommended. He didn’t’ really have an opinion and answered with “beer is beer, right?” He must not have been German. THe one I ordered was the closest thing I’ve had to an American beer and you could maybe even taste a little bit of hoppy ness in it. Anyway, by this point in the night I’m four large beers deep so I don’t have a ton else to say about that one. I just enjoyed it while reading my book and waiting for a group of attractive Americans/Italians/Brits/Australians/etc etc to walk through the door and be looking for another English speaker to chat with. DIdn’t happen. ;)

———

Today is now Saturday. First fall Saturday I won’t have watched any college football in a long time. Interesting to think about that. I am currently sitting on the balcony of my hotel in Inzel, Germany with a cup of tea and looking out at the mountains. Not a beer entry, and I haven’t had one so far yet today. Not sure if I will? Okay I probably will. I did partake in the German tradition of afternoon Coffee and Cake which is great. Inzel is a super small town. Walking around it felt like most of the restaurants were closed for the season. Anyway, I was looking for a place to hunger down and get a coffee and a baked good - neither of the other two in the “center of town” (haha I say that in quotes because there are legit like 10 buildings with open businesses in the center of town) just didn’t resonate. The cakes looked too much frosting and to be honest, I was kind of looking for someone who might speak english. By the time I walked upon this place I was just ready to get something and this had tables outside where I could sit and listen to some podcasts so that was great. I went in and the girl asked me, in German, “for here or to go?” Naturally I had no idea wtf she said so I kind of just looked at her and then muttered “no speichen de Deutsch”. She responded “oh, for here or to go?”. Awesome when people can transition that quickly. I’m going to try to get to do that with Spanish. Anyway, her english was great and it honestly boosted my spirits just peaking with someone who could understand the words I was saying. I complemented her on her English and she seemed to brush it off like “okay, whatever, thanks weirdo.

It also comes across as a biking town as people are riding around all sorts of bikes. Road bikes, mtn bikes, BMX bikes. Really cool culture around that. Also when i walked into town my legs were still feeling great so I walked over to the speed skating arena in town which is supposed to be an incredible world class training facility for the sport. I peaked in the window and could tell that there were some elite athletes training there. Wonder if it was the national team or any olympians. You can tell an elite athlete by how they move and the dillegence with which they warm up. Especially in speed/ endurance sports like that.

The hotel I”m staying at is a boutique. This kind of thing would crush it in Jackson hole or Ketchum or any mountain town in the US with a bit of a bougie customer contingent. They have what looks like a nice restaurant and a sauna and great views of the mountains. I need to figure out where the skiing is here though, kind of confused by whether there is a lot of downhill or if most of it is cross country skiing and other winter sports. ANyway, signing off now to continue reading my books. Before I do that though I’m actually going to start a travel tips entry. Might post that one publicly too actually. DInner will be my next decision (get to make all by myself! Let’s go! Benefits of solo travel!)

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jenmedsbookreviews · 7 years

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My view this week. Well… Not strictly true as I didn’t make it anywhere near Brixton or Victoria. But I was in London for a very flying visit to look at some industrial units. What a truly glamorous life I lead right? My Thursday consisted of – drive to Ponders End (via Starbucks) – spend five minutes looking at an industrial unit. Spend an hour driving to Kingsbury, in NW London (via Costa Coffee) – spend five minutes looking at an industrial unit. Drive to Hayes – spend five minutes looking at an industrial unit. Drive home (via Starbucks). Exciting stuff huh?

The only real benefit of driving around aimlessly, apart from being able to stock up on copious amounts of coffee and blackberry mojito green tea lemonade (non alcoholic), is that I also get to listen to audio books. As I was driving for around seven hours I managed to get most of the way through a whole book, which I finished off by reading when I got home. Tidy.

I’m just starting to get into my major project now with the first training sessions for our ‘super users’ next week. I forgot to tell them that they need to wear their underpants over their trousers so I guess that’s something we’ll have to cover off in housekeeping before the session starts…

Three days of that and then I get a very long weekend off because I am going to Harrogate. Right now I am neither excited or nervous about this fact. I am kind of apathetic. I think because I am so damned busy I have no time, thankfully, to be anything but. I still have the sort of feeling of dread buried somewhere deep inside, but I’ll worry about that surfacing again on Thursday morning as I say goodbye to the poochie. Or rather as I am packing as I probably won’t get round to it much before then… It’s just four days at a book festival. It is going to be fine. I think.

So. Bookwise, this week I’ve been quite productive. Sort of. Didn’t get much reading done until Wednesday as I had blog posts to catch up on, reviews to write, and that pesky chapter three in my thriller spoof – Killer – to complete. Even so, I’ve managed to get through four books thanks to my impromptu road trip on Thursday so it could be worse. I even got book post! Yup. I am loved once more. Two fabulous little parcels winging their way to me courtesy of Penguin and Head of Zeus. First up was The Marriage Pact by Michelle Richmond. I also received Behind Her Back by Jane Lythell.

Purchase wise I’ve been quite restrained. Sort of. I did a cheeky pre-order of Patricia Gibney’s third Lottie Parker novel, The Lost Child, as well as ordering a bit of a curve ball book, Wicked Grind by J Kenner (one of my guilty pleasures). Inspired by Emma Mitchell, I made a random purchase of the following: Oxford Dictionary of English Idioms, Oxford Dictionary of Modern Slang, Oxford Dictionary of Synonyms and Antonyms. Maybe I can inject a little more variety into my ‘thriller’. Or then again, perhaps not. And it was only while I was reading the ARC that I realised I hadn’t actually pre-ordered All The Wicked Girls by Chris Whitaker, which I have since remedied.

Only one ARC downloaded from Netgalley, The Lost Wife by Anna Mansell and no new audible this week so that, ladies and gents, was it.

…

Books I have read

The Lost Wife by Anna Mansell

Fans of Sheila O’Flanagan, Amanda Prowse and Kelly Rimmer will love The Lost Wife, the compelling story of a woman’s deepest secrets, and the friends and family who must learn to live without her.

‘An incredible, beautiful story of loss, love, forgiveness, moving on, overcoming grief, redemption and above all, hope.’ Renita D’Silva

When Ellie Moran passes away, she leaves her newborn son and husband Ed behind her. Their marriage was perfect, their lives everything they had hoped for. So why was Ellie keeping secrets from Ed?

Knowing he can never ask his wife the truth, Ed is struggling to cope. When the secrets threaten to tear his whole family apart, Ed turns to Rachel, the one person who sees him as more than just Ellie’s widower.

But then Rachel discovers something Ellie was hiding, something that would break Ed’s heart. Can Rachel help Ed to find peace without the wife he lost – and a second chance at happiness?

This was a last minute pick as I am taking part in the blog tour but an absolute cracking read. His family torn apart by loss and suspicion, Ed Moran really needs a friend which he finds in nursery worker Rachel. But in trying to help Ed come to terms with what happened, Rachel makes a grave error, one which may be unforgivable. Occasionally heart wrenching and often tender this book was a welcome break from my usual crime and thriller spree. I’ll be sharing my thoughts at the end of the month, but in the meantime you can pre-order the book here.

…

The One by John Marrs

How far would you go to find THE ONE?

One simple mouth swab is all it takes. A quick DNA test to find your perfect partner – the one you’re genetically made for.

A decade after scientists discover everyone has a gene they share with just one other person, millions have taken the test, desperate to find true love. Now, five more people meet their Match. But even soul mates have secrets. And some are more shocking – and deadlier – than others…

So. I’m way behind the curve on this one. It’s one I’ve had on my Netgalley TBR for a long time and I thought I may as well make the most of my road trip and start to clear some of that backlog. So, I downloaded the audio and off I went. Now this was an intriguing read for me. I am overwhelmingly sceptical about the concept of people finding ‘the one’. Of there being that super spark which goes beyond anything experienced with any other partner, so this book kind of tapped into that scepticism and kept be suitably entertained. You’ll have to wait a while for my thoughts on the book but you can bag yourself a copy right here.

…

All The Wicked Girls by Chris Whitaker

‘Raine sometimes complains that nothing exciting is ever gonna happen in Grace again. Daddy told her careful what you wish for.’

Everyone loves Summer Ryan. A model student and musical prodigy, she’s a ray of light in the struggling small town of Grace, Alabama – especially compared to her troubled sister, Raine. Then Summer goes missing.

Grace is already simmering, and with this new tragedy the police have their hands full keeping the peace. Only Raine throws herself into the search, supported by a most unlikely ally.

But perhaps there was always more to Summer than met the eye . . .

For fans of The Roanoke Girls and Fargo, All the Wicked Girls is a gripping crime novel with a huge heart from an exceptional talent.

Now it is no secret that I really loved Chris Whitaker’s debut novel, Tall Oaks. It was my top read of 2016 and is one I recommend to anyone who asks me which books they absolutely must read. So book two had a lot to live up to. And did it? Well I’m not going to say too much as my review will be out closer to publication but Mr Whitaker truly does have a talent for capturing the spirit of small town America, for creating a suffocating and oppressive atmosphere alongside a compelling and consuming story. And characterisations… You don;t get the full on Manny experience, but the friendship between Noah, Purv and Raine was brilliantly observed. So yeah. I liked it. You can pre-order your own copy here.

…

The Unquiet Dead by Ausma Zehanat Khan

One man is dead.

But thousands were his victims.

Can a single murder avenge that of many?

Scarborough Bluffs, Toronto: the body of Christopher Drayton is found at the foot of the cliffs. Muslim Detective Esa Khattak, head of the Community Policing Unit, and his partner Rachel Getty are called in to investigate. As the secrets of Drayton’s role in the 1995 Srebrenica genocide of Bosnian Muslims surface, the harrowing significance of his death makes it difficult to remain objective. In a community haunted by the atrocities of war, anyone could be a suspect. And when the victim is a man with so many deaths to his name, could it be that justice has at long last been served?

In this important debut novel, Ausma Zehanat Khan has written a compelling and provocative mystery exploring the complexities of identity, loss, and redemption.

Winner of the Barry Award, Arthur Ellis Award, and Romantic Times Reviewers Choice Award for Best First Novel.

I’ve been itching to read this book since receiving it from No Exit Press last month. I’m on the blog tour next week so you won’t have long to wait for my thoughts. Not always a comfortable subject to read about, it touches upon one of the darkest periods in recent European history. As I’ve literally only just finished reading, I’m going to sit and digest it a little while before writing my review. In the meantime, order yourself a copy of the book here.

…

So that’s it. Four books. Not too shabby. Not sure this will be as productive a week as Harrogate is likely to impinge on my reading a touch… I’ll give it a shot though and the travel means valuable audio book time so perhaps I can squeeze in at least a couple of titles by Sunday….

Busy week on the blog with a mix of reviews, book love and blog tours as per the norm.

Review: Cragside by L.J. Ross

#BlogTour Guest Post: Spark Out by Nick Rippington

#BookLove: Linda Hill

Killer: Chapter Three (or ‘I did warn you – these are actually getting worse…’)

#Blogtour review: The Stolen Girls by Patricia Gibney

#BlogTour Review: Dying To Live by Michael Stanley

Guest Review: Bored of the Rings by Rich Amooi

#BookLove: Catherine Kullman

Review: Nowhere Child by Rachel Abbott

The week ahead is once more pretty busy. I have more book love, blog tours and reviews to share. I start the week with a guest post from Malcolm Hollingdrake as part of the Dying Art blog tour. On Wednesday I’m finally able to share my review of The Other Twin by Lucy V Hay and on Friday I am thrilled to be opening the blog tour for Chris Curran’s new book, Her Deadly Secret. I have a little book love from Katherine Sunderland and Jane Cable and if I get time, maybe an update or two from Harrogate (but don’t hold your breath…)

And that’s it. Have a fabulous week of bookishness all. See you next week.

Rewind, recap: weekly update w/e 16/07/17 My view this week. Well... Not strictly true as I didn't make it anywhere near Brixton or Victoria.

#Rewind Recap #Weekly Round UP

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shockcity · 7 years

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HP #2 - Tea, Please!

Rating: T (*whispers* for tea)

Summary: Harry asks Draco out on a date…and Ron’s taste in music is called into question. Coffee/tea shop non-magic AU.

Category: M/M

Pairing: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter

Warnings: silliness

———————-

Tea, Please! was not Caffé Nero. It was not Starbucks, or Costa Coffee. In fact, it wasn’t a coffee shop at all. About the only thing it had in common with those other shops, was that they were all popular revision spots for the roving rabble of King’s College.

Their clientele was about the same, really – bedraggled young adults begging for free Wifi, the in-between lesson-ers that would most likely end up skiving in favour of caffeine and socializing, and the should-probably-be-studying intellectuals that were, in actuality, pecking at the first draft of a really bad romance novel.

“Spiced orange latte, have you any spiced orange lattes? Never mind that our sign says tea.”

Harry patted Ron on the shoulder as he walked into the back to clock in. Ginny was sitting at their little break room table with a Starbucks cup cradled in her hands. She looked unrepentant.

“Has he seen that?” He nodded toward the Liquid Betrayal as he took off his scarf and coat and stashed them in his locker.

“No. And before you ask, yes I snuck it in here. No one saw a thing.”

Harry grinned. “Sure, and you’ll leave the empty somewhere where he can see it. When are you going to give your brother a break?”

“When he stops playing Sugarhill Gang at five in the morning.”

Harry nodded. “It was Tinie Tempah yesterday.”

At the moment, It’s Tricky was playing over the speakers. Ginny looked murderous as she daintily sipped at her drink.

He checked that the displays didn’t need to be restocked and tied his apron around his waist. There were caramel peanut butter chocolate scones in the oven, and the Espresso maker was sputtering in the corner. Ron’s current customer was ordering a tea though, thank the lord. “It’s raspberry infused,” he told a blond girl about Harry’s height. “With a hint of white ginger pear.”

Harry could feel Ginny rolling her eyes from the break room.

The morning rush soon began, and Harry managed to drag her out to help. He found himself making tea after tea, the odd cappuccino, espresso or latte, and serving out pastries made with Ron’s mother’s recipes (which were honestly half the reason people even came to Tea, Please!) Also with the exception of Ron’s music, Ginny’s…Ginny, and the fact that the shop was a stone’s throw away from Waterloo Bridge.

There wasn’t much to recommend it, otherwise.

“I love the vibe,” a customer wearing a cat jumper said at around eight. Ron gave him a skeptical look. “I’ve never heard Disco Inferno this early in the morning.”

“We need to talk,” Ginny summoned him once Shameless Cat Jumper Guy had left. “There’s a twitter account for it now. For your…proclivities.“

"They spelled Hozier wrong. And Wild Cherry?” Ron scoffed. “Why Wild Cherry?”

“Um.” She took her phone back, throwing him the You Are Dumb and I’m in Pain face. “Play that funky music white boy…?”

“Oh! Haha. That’s actually pretty clever.”

“It’s not. If you’d just let someone else be in charge of the music for once….”

“I paid the cost to be the boss,” Ron retorted with a straight face.

But Ron did not seem to be concerned that a shadowy corner of social media was dedicated to making fun of him. “It’s free advertising,” he shrugged. “If I wanted to go out of business I’d play R.E.M. all day.”

“It wouldn’t hurt,” Draco Malfoy said, sliding up to the counter. “At least play Murmur, if you have any taste at all, that is.”

“80’s R.E.M.,” Harry cheered, reaching out to fist bump the blond. “Please tell me you appreciate the Eurythmics.”

“Who am I to disagree?”

“Here we go,” Ginny muttered, but a smile was twitching at the corner of her mouth. Ron watched them crossly.

“He can do loads better than ferret-face,” He mumbled. His sister elbowed him in the side. “What? He’s a film society twat. And he doesn’t like tea.”

His greatest offense, according to Ron. Ginny did not point out that she wasn’t a fan of that marigold-cornflower-black currant crap either. And she also wasn’t going to befriend any film majors any time soon. But Draco, despite being posh and bratty and leagues different from Harry, seemed to really hit it off with their friend.

Harry was even leaning toward him, doing the counter-assisted seduction pose. Draco was mirroring it. Their bums were just sticking out all over the place.

Ginny sighed. “He’s going to let Malfoy walk out of here again. Come on, Harry.”

Ron made a face, but looked more hopeful now that Harry and Draco’s conversation seemed to be winding down into an awkward anticlimax. “Wait,” Ginny hissed, snapping her fingers. She shot off to the back.

Suddenly, Marvin Gaye cut off, and the first notes of Get Down Tonight came on. A group of hardcore revisionists by the loos cheered and boogied a little in their seats. Harry blushed furiously.

When Ginny came out (looking a bit smug) she was frustrated to see Draco gone. She turned on Harry and demanded to know what had happened.

“Really?!” she squawked. She made girly noises and ran into the break room again. The nightmarish sound of Hot in the City Tonight began to play, but instead of cheering, most of their clientele looked deeply offended. Someone was probably tweeting about white imperialism winning again or something.

“Ginny, turn it off!!!” Ron shouted.

“Harry’s got a date!” she screeched. “Finally.”

Ron grimaced at Harry. “Good on you, mate?” he said, making it clear that he wasn’t sure congratulations were entirely in order. “Have fun with your Billy Idol look alike, but for now, he’s not welcome on our sacred playlist.”

“Aww, Ron, come on,” Ginny groaned. “This calls for a celebration, and I don’t mean a Kool & the Gang celebration.”

He thought about her proposal for a moment. “Alright,” he nodded, and then raised his voice. “One free cup of Arabian Night Oasis tea for everyone that witnessed Harry pulling!”

The customers seemed unenthusiastic. Ron scowled. “And a raspberry square,” he added, rolling his eyes.

They cheered.

“And a change of tune, maybe,” Harry said, his expression embarrassed but also rather pleased. He retreated into the back.

“Why do people keep touching the stereo,” Ron mumbled. “Why is this happening.”

But Harry’s choice met with Ron’s approval.

“You know your love, your love keeps liftin’ me, your love keeps liftin’ me, higher…higher and higher….”

“Alright you big girl’s blouse,” Ron said, laughing. “I’m happy for you. Really.”

Harry smiled shyly. “Thanks, Ron. Couldn’t have done it without you.”

“Eh?”

“Oh, you didn’t know?” His expression turned sly. “Draco and I didn’t actually meet each other at Tea, Please! We met through twitter. I’m one of his followers.”

“No…”

“Yes.” Harry laughed. “So thanks, Wild Cherry. This one’s,” and Play That Funky Music started up again, “for you.”

#HP2 #drarry #hp fic #hp prompts #harry potter fic #I have nothing against Hosier or white people #I do take issue with imperialism though

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