the_machine_mod (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
the_machine_mod) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
meme_of_interest2013-03-28 06:03 pm
the_machine_mod) wrote in meme_of_interest2013-03-28 06:03 pm
Entry tags:
Prompt Post 01
Prompt Post 01 is open!
Please read the FAQ before posting prompts.
Quick Links: FAQ / Participation Guidelines / Prompt Post 01 & Prompt Post 01 in flat view / Filled Prompts Post / Chatter Post & Chatter Post in flat view / Mod Contact Post
ANNOUNCEMENT: Pinboard, Tumblr, AO3 Collection and Tags
Pinboard: Fills are bookmarked at
Tumblr: Fills are also collected in a weekly roundup on Tumblr , which you can follow at
AO3 Collection: For those of you who link or later post your fills at the AO3, we have an open Collection: Meme_of_Interest, so please feel free to add your fill.
AO3 Tags: AO3 have also made the tag Community: Meme of Interest canonical, with Meme of Interest and Meme-of-Interest as synonyms, if you would like to use them.
As always, if you have any other questions or concerns, please direct them to the Mod Contact Post.
Fill 1/?: Vine and Vervain (Finch/Reese) [Not Rated] [No meme warnings apply]
(Anonymous) 2013-04-29 12:43 am (UTC)(link)Startled out of his introspection, John flinched, almost knocking over the little planter he'd been admiring, and whirled to face the speaker. It was the shop's proprietor, an unassuming figure whose forehead barely cleared John's shoulder. He was wearing a dark grey apron upon which the legend 'Hendricks & Finch' was scrawled in stereotypically florid typeface, and he was cradling an extravagant bouquet of flowers in his arms. A pair of large eyes peered myopically up at John through thick, plastic-framed glasses, set back from a hawkish nose and pursed, uncertain lips. “My apologies,” the florist said, his voice utterly calm. “I didn't mean to startle you.”
“N- no, I-” The words stumbled on his tongue, heavy and unyielding, and uncertainty was a familiar burn in the pit of his stomach. “I'm not looking for anything in particular.”
The florist blinked. “Then I can highly recommend the harebells,” he said. He made an awkward gesture with his elbow, directing John's attention to a row of gently-nodding violet flowers, bell-shaped with their heads hung low. “They're rather fine at this time of year.”
With that, the man went back to his work; he laid his bundle of flowers down on the counter, somehow contriving to keep each stem in its exact place, and began to pluck fussily at it. John watched him for a moment, assessing (stiff posture, muscles clenched tight in his neck, fingers nimble but uncalloused, clothes flat to his soft, lived-in frame; not a threat) then redirected his focus. The harebells continued to nod, disturbed no doubt by the low swell of the air-conditioning, and he reached out to stroke the delicate curve of a petal. He'd never bought flowers individually before. His gifts had been stuck firmly in the 'roses and tulips' rut, on the basis that he'd heard of those two types and therefore knew how to ask for them.
Jessica had always loved yellow tulips.
All of a sudden, there was a vice clamped around his throat and his vision blurred, violet shading into green, the still-dark tan of his skin clear and damning against the sweet-scented backdrop, and he forced himself to swallow, to breathe, to...
“Are you quite all right?”
The florist's voice came as a surprise; the right sort of surprise, one he could latch onto and tug against, to pull himself away from the shocking rush of grief. “Yes, thank you, I'm-”
He stopped. Silky softness whispered across his palm and he released the fist that he'd never intended to make, watching the crushed harebell flutter miserably from his grip. “Oh- I'm sorry, I didn't mean to.” He turned, already patting as his pockets for his wallet, and found his gaze caught by bright blue. The other man's stare was hard, almost brazen in its appraisal, and John's shoulders itched with the need to come to sharp attention. “I don't know what I'm doing here,” he confessed in a rush, staring hopelessly at the florist. “I- My friend, she- Look, I'm sorry, I'll pay for the-”
The florist tilted his head, the flare of light across his spectacles making his eyes unreadable, and that tiny motion was enough to stem the clumsy, tumbling words. “No matter,” he said, softly, his hands still moving over the bouquet. “That one only had a day or two left anyway.”
At a loss, John continued to stare, watching the man as he began to wrap up the bouquet, unhurried and utterly inscrutable. He worked with quiet efficiency, ignoring John's study, and finished up by scribbling something onto a card and sliding it in amongst the blooms.
He looked up, one eyebrow creeping up by single, unsurprised millimetre. “May I ask a favour?”
John resisted the impulse to glance at the little destruction he'd wrought. “Of course.”
The florist stepped out from behind the counter, his body canting into a twisted limp, and offered him the flowers with a rustle of cellophane. “Would you drop these in at the coffeeshop at the corner? I believe I may shortly owe its head barista a favour.”
(A/N: Or, to put it another way, even in coffeeshop!universe Finch has to be mysteriously controlling Reese's life from the moment he meets him...)
Re: Fill 1/?: Vine and Vervain (Finch/Reese) [Not Rated] [No meme warnings apply]
(Anonymous) 2013-04-30 09:20 pm (UTC)(link)Re: Fill 1/?: Vine and Vervain (Finch/Reese) [Not Rated] [No meme warnings apply]
Re: Fill 1/?: Vine and Vervain (Finch/Reese) [Not Rated] [No meme warnings apply]
(Anonymous) 2013-05-04 03:53 pm (UTC)(link)I can already tell this is going to be amazing thank you so much <3
Re: Fill 1/?: Vine and Vervain (Finch/Reese) [Not Rated] [No meme warnings apply]
Details and atmosphere..just WHOA
Re: Fill 1/?: Vine and Vervain (Finch/Reese) [Not Rated] [No meme warnings apply]
Re: Fill 1/?: Vine and Vervain (Finch/Reese) [Not Rated] [No meme warnings apply]
Re: Fill 1/?: Vine and Vervain (Finch/Reese) [Not Rated] [No meme warnings apply]