#have work soon which is unfortunate bc i feel a million times more sick today

[bibliothesoph]

snowbaz flower shop au bc lord knows we don’t have enough of those

BAZ.

It's been a long day, but I still have one more thing to do. Since it's Daphne's birthday tomorrow and my father is an insufferable bastard, I'm the one who has to go pick up flowers for her. If it were any other day I wouldn't really mind, but I'm utterly knackered after my full day of lessons. By the time I make it to the flower shop to pick up the arrangement my father ordered, the store is already closed.

I sigh and pull out my phone to find an open shop nearby, praying that there's a half decent place that's still open. I know that my father will be upset that it's not the arrangement he chose (or, more accurately, that his assistant picked out) but I'm fairly confident in my ability to pick out a simple yet elegant arrangement. My father, who still totally refuses to admit that I'm gay, says I simply acquired my mother's good taste.

What a load of fucking nonsense.

Thankfully I find a place that's open. It's only a few blocks away and it's open for another hour so I should make it there with plenty of time to spare. I quickly make my way through the hoards of pedestrians and find the shop. When I enter, I'm really quite glad that my day has worked out like this.

There's a boy (who looks to be around my age) walking around with pots stacked high in his arms. He has the most gorgeous, untamed curls bounding off in different directions and piercing blue eyes that remind me of the sky. His face is splattered with a collection of moles and freckles that make him look positively adorable . I swear that my heart nearly stops when I see him.

Evidently, I seem (more likely the bell on the door, but I'd like to think that I had something to do with it) to have the same effect on him because as soon as I enter, his mouth drops open and he trips over himself, sending the pots clattering to the ground.

SIMON. Today's been a bloody nightmare. Ebb was sick so I had to skip my lessons and work the shop all by myself. Normally I don't mind running things on my own, but it was like the universe wanted to fuck me over today. I had to make five huge orders on top of the three that Ebb had set aside for the day, along with doing the daily plant maintenance. With one hour left in my work day, I'm totally knackered and just really hope that no one else comes in. I really don't think I could deal with another order right now.

But, just my luck, another customer comes in with less than an hour until closing. When I hear the bell chime on the door I accidentally trip over something because my annoyance has me distracted. The pots in my arms go flying and break into hundreds of clay pieces on the floor, sprawling out by the foot of the customer.

"Sorry," I mumble as I go to the back to fetch the broom and dustpan. I don't even look at the costumer—I'm far too embarrassed. Maybe Penny was right—maybe this is too much for me to handle.

When I return to clean up my mess, the customer grabs the broom and clears their throat. I slowly meet their gaze and, I swear to god, my heart nearly stops beating right there.

Standing in front of me is the most elegant bloke I've ever seen. I can think of about a million adjectives to describe him—hot, chiseled (but in a statue way, not a hunky way), fit, sexy, gorgeous—but I think that elegant (or maybe regal) is the best of them all. He's in a maroon button up and black trousers and he's got his lovely long hair that frames his face like he's a damn painting. He might be. He's perfect enough to be art, certainly.

"I..."

"Let me take care of this," he says, still holding onto the broom. Can I speak? I think my throat is too dry to even try. "I'd like to place an order for an arrangement, if that's alright."

I want to tell him that I'll make him a hundred arrangements right now. I want to tell him that I'll pay him for me to make him arrangements, but lord knows that I've never been good with words.

"O-of course. Uh, what's the arrangement for?"

I'd like to argue with him about the sweeping, but he's already gotten started and it makes sense for him to sweep while I work. He mist have realized that or he never would have offered.

BAZ. I don't really know why I decided to sweep up for him, but he's so adorable (even as he stammers over his words) that I couldn't resist. It does make sense, though. If I sweep, he can make the arrangement and we can get two things done at the same time.

Not that I'm itching to leave.

"My mother," I say. "Well, step mother. It's her birthday and my father wanted me to find something suitable for her. Elegant, you know?"

The boy nods and runs his fingers through his curls as he makes his way behind the counter. I continue to sweep dust, making sure to look up at him every few seconds.

"Right. Well...what's she like?"

I blink at him for a moment, totally taken aback by his question. Favorite color I would understand, but surely her personality doesn't matter for an arrangement.

"Why does it matter? It's a flower arrangement." I don't really mean for it to sound condescending, but I'm afraid it comes off that way. I have expect him to glare at me, but instead he just grins and his eyes get all bright.

"Each flower has a meaning, yeah? So when I make arrangements, I like to make them based off the personality of whoever the arrangement is for. It's like a physical collection of their personality traits, you know? It gives the gift more meaning. I mean, I can usually read people pretty well, but since she's not here..."

"Okay, then what would my arrangement look like?"

"Amaryllis, aster, iris, heather, and peony," he says, without batting an eye.

SIMON. "Amaryllis, aster, iris, heather, and peony," I say, without hesitation.

He looks at me like he's either very amused or very scared. "Care to explain your choices?"

I clear my throat, take his hand, and usher him around the shop to point out each flower. "Okay, well that's iris and that stands for royalty and I thought it was a good pick because you look posh and elegant. That's heather which is for admiration because... well, I can't quite explain it, but it seems like people look up to you. That one there is aster which wisdom, or, in some cases, devotion, but I think that's laying it on a bit thick. Next is amaryllis which is pride, but not in like a bad way or anything. The meanings can differ depending on what you read, but those are the ones I know."

I leave out peony because, to be honest, I'm extremely embarrassed that I said that.

Unfortunately, he notices that I left it out. "And peony?"

I swallow a lump in my throat. "I...uh... I mean, we'll, it stands for romance."

I really wish I could just, like, burst into flames right now. I look to see his reaction, but he's typing something on his phone. I'm a bit pissed, if I'm being honest, since I really just put myself out there and he can't be bothered, but I guess it's better than a painful rejection.

I leave him where he is and go back behind the counter to find a vase for the arrangement for his step mother (assuming he still wants it) and get the rest of my materials ready. I also grab some leaves, just for decoration. I think a touch of green goes a long way.

"Sunflower, daisy, hydrangea, and stock," he says after a moment.

Once again, I feel my heart stop.

BAZ. I know that those flowers would make for an ugly arrangement, but I think he understands what I mean because his smile comes back full force and that glimmer is back in his eye.

Admiration, innocence, understanding, beauty.

And I don't even know the bastard's name.

[milkweedman]

The dyed ryå lambs fleece ! Left is alum mordanted, right is a homemade copper mordant, both using yellow onion skin as the dye. Am also so happy with the yarn, although I have zero idea what to do with 100 yards of laceweight singles.

Im not sure how a stripey sock yarn with these two colors would look so it might end up being two pairs, one primarily yellow with orange heel and toe and vice versa. We shall see