Clueless (1995) dir. Amy Heckerling
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@grvngrass
Clueless (1995) dir. Amy Heckerling
maybe it was the established routine, or the general comfort she always felt when she was in the presence of those she trusted most, but eloise couldn’t help but feel at PEACE during her brunches with luciana ( @ofluciana ). the elegance of the greengrass manor cast a protective shield around them, dulling the simple truth that there was a war brewing just beyond the family estate. not that eloise’s passiveness had contributed to either side’s efforts, but tolls of war were enough for even someone like her to feel them everyday, as muted and insignificant they were. her fingers wrap around her spoon, metal clinking against her tea cup as she stirs, other palm rested against her cheek. “it really is lovely to see you.” she starts, voice sugary sweet, but there’s a hint of sincerity, mask off. there was no need to flaunt her carefully crafted facade, not in the presence of someone who knew her as well as luciana did. “how are you holding up, y’know . . . with everything ? how is blaise ? i miss his cute little face.”
queenofquills·:
@grvngrass
time seems to slow down as ELOISE GREENGRASS walks into the bar, and rita finds herself frozen in place, drink halfway raised to her lips, her gaze involuntarily fluttering away from the guy she’s with. glass almost slips from her grasp, but she quickly collects herself and tries to return to her more than bland conversation with her just slightly better than average looking date. she lasts a couple of minutes, her smile brighter than usual, her eyes sparkling like stars in the night sky. definitively overcompensating, definitively failing. “ excuse me. i have to…. go. this has been lovely, really, “ she says, words dripping with insincerity, with that sugary sweetness that only tells lies. she turns around before he gets the chance to get another word in, and she tries to tell herself that she hasn’t been rattled, that she could just leave right now. walk out. go home. go to sleep. but she still finds herself walking through the bar, her heart thumping a dangerous melody in her chest, threatening her, warning her. you’re on thin fucking ice, skeeter. “ greengrass, “ she says in acknowledgement, as she slides into the chair next to her. just a few years ago, a venomous comment would have followed shortly, and her stare would have been lethal. now, it’s dangerously soft, almost a little bit shy. she hates it. “ you looked lonely. “ more like lovely, but okay. “ and i was having a terrible date, “ she adds, as if to explain why she’s here, why she’s back, when she has so solemnly sworn that they’d never end up like this, again.
it was never intentional, ending up at the same bar nearly every week. but she’s had a long day and even though all she really needs is a good night of sleep, she convinces herself that she needs a drink more. so there she is, sitting at the bar stirring her drink when she hears her voice, like music to hers ears, drawing her back to reality. she shifts, resting cheek against palm as she turns to mirror the woman, a curved eyebrow lifting in question. “how kind of you to save me from my MISERY. it’s always rita to the rescue.” the once accusatory tone that always followed when rita was present has faded into something a little softer, perhaps even kinder. to be honest, she doesn’t quite know what to make of it. but eloise can’t help herself from falling, can’t fight the way that her heart flutters when she smells rita’s sweet perfume or the way it races when their hands brush ever so slightly. “so that’s why you look so pretty.” oops, maybe she didn’t mean to say that out loud ( or maybe she did ), but she moves on without even acknowledging it, as if it meant nothing. “it was so bad that you’ve resorted to drinking with me, huh ? must’ve been miserable then. who was the lucky person anyway ?” her fingers absentmindedly tug at a lock of her hair ( a nervous habit ) as she sips on her drink, attempting to mask her interest in the details of the date. she shouldn’t care because there’s nothing between them, right ? but she does. and she hates it.
oracleisms·:
“ i’m so sorry to bother you, but by any chance have you seen my cat ? she’s missing and i’m worried SICK. ” sybill is standing outside the three broomsticks and she is still smiling despite the lack of success so far —– has been hanging flyers and handing out photos around hogsmeade all morning but no one is helping her has any information. sybill hasn’t seen luna in a few days, she missed thursday tea time and luna has never missed thursday tea time ( luna’s favorite is oolong and sybill had brewed a large pot for her yesterday, drank it all herself when she was stood up and couldn’t sleep because of it —– which just gave her more time to obsess over what could be wrong. ) “ please, do you have a MINUTE ? ”
eloise tends to mind her own business ( the last thing she needs is a distraction ), but the words missing cat are enough to drag her out of her bubble to stop and listen. her meeting didn’t begin for another half hour and well . . . she had nothing better to do than sit and drink herself silly and to be honest, looking for a lost cat sounded way more appealing. “what does she look like ? i think i have a few minutes to spare to help look.” kindness has never been eloise’s strong suit, especially if she would receive nothing in return. but all she can think about is her cat ( mango ), cold and ALONE because she couldn’t find her way back home. and she can hardly bear the thought. “is there a certain treat that she loves that we can use to help find her ? maybe she’s just gotten lost and is hiding somewhere because she’s scared.”
— › SUMMER 1976 : SIRIUS & ELOISE
her mother’s voice was still ringing in her ears as she glides through the crowds, fake smile plastered across her features. the FIGHT they’d had before they arrived lingers in the back of her mind, resentment boiling in the pit of her stomach. maybe her dress was too tight, or maybe the night was really that unbearable, but eloise could think of million different places she would rather be than at the yaxley manor that summer evening. yet here she was, forced to be on her best behavior with the weight of her mother’s gaze on her back to motivate her as she swirls from group to group, performing her role as the perfect daughter with ease ( she could do it with her eyes shut ). but eloise was suffocating, itching for a way to get out, desperate for a moment alone, for anything. it’s then that she sees the slightly ajar balcony door and she realizes that this is it --- her escape. and the second her mother isn’t looking, she slips out into the warm evening air, enveloped by the tranquility. but it wasn’t all hers either. she recognizes the boy’s face ( @sirvusblvck ), though not well, had only caught glimpses at events and school. but eloise had never been one to shy away from a conversation either. “are you out here planning your escape too ? i already tried the front door ---- it didn’t work.”
sheweapon·:
@grvngrass sent —– “ i’m a fast learner. ”
sharp fingernails tap against her desk, and her lips pull into a half smile, exposing a row of teeth that are almost too white to look quite real. the soft january sun slices through the large window ( because of course, bellatrix lestrange’s office is nothing short of fucking extraordinary ), and bathes them in warmth. it’s a sharp contrast to the chilliness in her gaze. “ i should hope so. you’ll have to be, “ she says, cold authority pouring into her voice, sending slivers of ice coursing through the air. she doesn’t break eye contact with the young girl as she leans forward, and the tension in the room could be cut with a knife. she feeds off it - bathes in the way she can bend, break, shape the greengrass girl to her will. perhaps that’s what draws bellatrix to her —- but her name and legacy alone are enough to make her… weak. “ — i need someone. tonight. “ she finally says. there’s a long pause. a clawlike hand is placed underneath her chin, an elbow rested against her desk. “ it’s a private matter. not… ministry related. you will have to be discreet. “
to say that eloise greengrass was out of her element would be a bit of an understatement. here she was, beginning her first real job ( working for the family business doesn’t count ) and it happens to be for one of the most powerful people in the ministry. she’s not SCARED, only intimidated by the woman towering above her, but she doesn’t crack. yet she can’t ignore the unmistakable feeling that bellatrix can see right through her facade, can detect even the slightest bit of discomfort, even if its buried deep beneath the surface. the thought alone was terrifying, but she perseveres, swallowing the regret that had already begun to seep in. “i can be discreet.” she assures her boss, rose colored lips pressed together as her hands fold in her lap. she was good at taking orders ( she had learned from the best after all ) and there was nothing she wanted to do more than impress her boss, if that was even possible. “what do you need me to do, mrs. lestrange ?”
“she would wake up in the middle of the night and the only thing around her would be the darkness and that hollow place in her heart.”
eloise greengrass , twenty three years old. slytherin , pureblood & neutral. pinterest.
(◡‿◡✿)
You are shaking fists & trembling teeth. I know: You did not mean to be cruel. That does not mean you were kind.
Venetta Octavia, excerpt of “THE BURNING”, from my chapbook, “What We Left Behind” (via venettaoctavia)