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esouliie · 2 months

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AN ANGEL FLUNG OUT OF SPACE

(natasha romanoff x fem! reader)

– synopsis | falling in love with your childhood bestfriend might have been one of the best yet scariest things to happen to you. but what happened in the summer of ‘97? what happened to your darling natalia?

– warnings | little fluff & a lot of angst, kind of au (no avengers), child abuse, mentions of: attempted suicide, self harm, body mutilation, burn marks, severe malnourishment (18+)

– notes | this was supposed to be a oneshot but, as usual, i spiralled out of control and now it has two chapters… potentially three? merci, mon alice, for the header @wandasgf ♡

[ word count: 4.4k ] Chapter 1 | Chapter 2

JULY 1992

The sun had begun to set and yet the warmth of the day still lingered. The glow of the street lamps cast an amber hue on the pavement, outlining the familiar houses that lined the quiet street. The air was filled with the scent of summer, a blend of fresh grass and the distant fragrance of blooming flowers. In one of the houses on the street, a family gathered in their backyard for a summer evening barbecue. The smell of sizzling burgers and sweet barbecue sauce wafted through the air, and the faint laughter of children chasing each other echoed, while the adults lounged and swapped stories.

Meanwhile, across the field, two girls were beneath the sprawling branches of a willow tree. A patchwork quilt, covering a section of flattened grass, held a tea set long forgotten as they had rounded the thick trunk, the littlest one already perched on the wooden swing.

“Push me higher, Natty!” You exclaimed, voice full of glee. You were only a small girl with wild hair and a toothy grin, but your spirit was boundless.

Natalia smiled brightly, her own eyes sparkling with joy at her friend's excitement. “You’re already so high you could see the Empire State Building.” She teased, her laughter blending with the sound of chirping crickets amongst the long grass in the distance.

“I know!” The wind whipped against your face, and you couldn’t help but let out a joyous laugh.

Inseparable since Natalia moved in next door, your friendship blossomed under the protective branches of the willow tree across the street, where a swing hung proudly in the breeze. Its gentle leaves whispered secrets that only the two of you could hear, dreams of the future etched upon its bark, as unadulterated laughter rang true with its sway.

She whistled as your head swung back, the carefree spirit of the summer evening enveloping her in its warm embrace. And as she gazed up at the tree’s opening, she found twinkling stars above and the imaginary distant silhouette of the Empire State Building visible on the horizon. She couldn't help but feel a sense of wonder at the vastness of the world she had yet to see.

"Whoa, this is amazing." You shouted, feeling your stomach drop with each swoop. "Let’s swing all the way to the moon!"

“Maybe not the moon,” She pushed harder, her hands gripping the thick plank of wood beneath you, “But let’s try for the stars."

You shouted with as much euphemism as your little body could handle as the swing reached its peak. Weightless under its motion, you were suspended between the sky and the ground.

An angel flung out of space.

"I can almost touch the stars!"

She smiled. Despite her hands being rubbed red raw from rope burn, she was happy. She was always happy to be with you. While she had her younger sister, Yelena, whom she cared for deeply, it wasn't the same as having you. A friendship of her own creation. She yearned for the summer days when she could run around like a child with you.

“That’s good, that means you’re almost home, little star.” She shouted, her accent slipping out ever so subtly.

Carefully, your hand stretched toward the night sky – a poor attempt to touch the boiling balls of gas above.

You both were happy.

It’s sad what became of you both.

All too soon, reality intruded once more. The distant sound of a heavy door opening cut through the air, a gentle reminder that all good things must come to an end. With a final push, Nat stepped back and held onto the plank, commanding it to a halt. She knew what was coming.

At first, you didn’t notice her disappear around the wide trunk. But the gentle clink of pottery against one another told you enough as you followed in her footsteps.

“Natalia,” You whined, hands on your waist at the sight of the older girl cleaning up. “No, it’s your turn to swing.”

A whistle pierced the air, its familiar shrill sound gaining both of your attention. The sound of home time. “Natalia, come. Time to go.” Her mother’s voice carried just as loud, urging the redhead to leave playtime behind.

She turned to you, her expression softening as she looked down at your smaller frame. With a mixture of reluctance and understanding, she pulled you into a tight embrace, the warmth of her arms wrapped around you, the gentle press of her lips against your forehead lingered for a moment before she released you and ran off into the gathering dusk.

Alone now, you watched as the field fell silent, the only sound being of the insects hidden in the dark. The swing on the other side croaked gently in response to the light breeze and the redhead’s swift departure. For a moment, you considered sitting on it, perhaps pushing yourself back and forth on the points of your feet. Instead, you find yourself standing there: the absence of your best friend ever so palpable, a void that sunk deep into your bones.

Without Natalia by your side, the swing held little allure, and you decided to make your way back home. With your large basket in hand, you reached your own doorstep and paused, casting one last glance towards the girl’s house. The lights were on inside, casting a warm glow against the darkness outside.

You almost missed it, but a glimpse of red hair appeared out the window, followed by a hand waving at you. As soon as you waved back, she was gone. Window shut. Curtains drawn.

You went to bed with a cheesy grin plastered on your face.

You’ll see her again tomorrow.

AUGUST 1997

“Natalia, stop fighting me on this. You look like a popsicle.” You laughed and shoved the girl playfully from where you were sitting against the willow tree.

“It's cool.” She defended, as her hand tugged at her blue-dyed ends.

The years had rolled by, but the memories of that swing under the willow tree lingered on in your heart. As the seasons changed, so did your life. You made new friends, explored different interests, and navigated the tumultuous journey of adolescence. Being older than you, Natalia was already in high school, but she didn’t go to any in the district, as she was home-schooled and sometimes had to leave for a while. She never really told you why.

Even so, your bond deepened and an unspoken connection developed between you both. Under the tree's comforting shade, you discovered a warmth in your heart that went beyond friendship. Those lazy summer afternoons spent laughing, dreaming, and sharing secrets created a bond that you wanted to explore further.

You’d never felt like this before for anyone.

Only Natalia.

Life as a pre-teen was so confusing.

You snorted, “Yeah, okay, you leave for a month and come back with half of your hair a different colour.”

But it wasn't just the hair colour that captivated you. It was the way she carried herself - a wisdom wise beyond her years. She was the same goofy redhead of course - her eyes sparkled with mischief when she laughed at you, her hand held the same warmth in yours as you walked together. But there was something else lurking beneath, a sadness more notable than her usual melancholy. You noticed the slight furrow in her brow, the way her fingers tapped nervously against each other.

Something was weighing on her mind, something significant. So, you asked, “What’s wrong?”

She let out such a soft sigh that you almost missed it.

“I’m leaving.”

Dread washed over you, and a knot formed in your stomach. "Again?"

She had just returned the other day. Your mind raced with questions and uncertainty and the tears already clustered your lash line. You, a child with no need to mask her emotions, no need to hide her soul, unlike Natalia, who always seemed to carry the weight of the world on her shoulders, her laughter always accompanied by a subtle sadness, as if she were trying to conceal her true feelings behind a façade of cheerfulness. But today, as she sat you down with a gentle tug, her eyes betraying a mixture of resolve and sorrow, you sensed that she could no longer hide what she'd been keeping inside.

"It's for good this time," she murmured, her gaze fixed on the ground as if unable to meet your eyes. "My parents want to go back to Russia. They don’t like it here.”

Though unspoken, you sensed the weight of what she meant. They don't like you. It stung, a silent acknowledgement of the barriers you've fallen blind to. The odd glances from her mother, the subtle disapproval from her younger sister—all pieces of a puzzle you've tried to ignore.

Her admission hung heavy in the air, the reality of separation sinking in with each passing moment. She drew closer, her delicate fingers brushing away the tears that cascaded down your cheeks. You lifted your gaze to meet hers, noticing the weariness etched into her features, the telltale signs of tears already shed hours before.

“I’ll miss you.” She whispered, forehead flushed against yours, before leaning down to kiss the corner of your lips. An almost kiss. One of many shared underneath the cover of the willow tree.

You tasted saltiness and noticed the fresh tears that had now sprung from her eyes.

“I'll miss you too. Forever.”

The next morning, you stood outside her house, as the sun cast long shadows over their lawn. It was your last full day together so you arrived bright and early, not wanting to waste any time. You reached out to knock on the door, but your hand hovered, hesitant. The house remained still, as if holding its breath, waiting for something that would never come. You glanced around, searching for any sign of life, but the windows stared back at you blankly, revealing nothing but darkness within.

“Natty?”

Nothing.

A sinking feeling gnawed at your stomach as you realized they must've left in the night, slipping away like shadows fleeing from the dawn. The same way they joined this neighbourhood.

With a heavy heart, you turned away from the empty house, feeling as if a piece of your soul had been torn away with their departure. The world already seemed colder, lonelier, devoid of her warmth and laughter that once filled it.

In the days that followed, you found yourself drawn to the tree – yours and Natalia’s safe haven. You sat there, surrounded by memories, as the rope swayed in the wind - empty and forlorn. Though still magical, the willow tree could no longer shield you from the loneliness that settled in your heart, as the summer months stretched on endlessly, a blur of empty hours filled with longing and regret.

That night, you slept with a permanent frown, a puddle of tears staining your pillow.

You won’t see her again tomorrow.

APRIL 2001

From afar, she looked different. Almost unrecognisable.

Eighteen years old and she was here: barely an adult yet taller and slimmer, with a cascade of auburn curls framing her face that replaced the short blue hair you remembered. The years had engraved themselves onto her, carving the once-round face into a pointed visage that spoke of both experience and loss.

Just as beautiful as you remembered.

You sat on the swing under the tree with a book in hand, lost in its pages until light danced between the branches and a flicker of movement caught your attention. Glancing up, you froze as you saw her across the street.

Natalia?

Your heart quickened its pace, memories flooding back in a torrent. But this woman was different. She’d changed. She’d grown.

She noticed you too, her gaze locking onto yours for a moment. There's a flicker of recognition, a spark of something in those eyes. For a heartbeat, it feels like time hasn't passed, like you're still the same two little girls taking on the world together. But then, just as quickly as the connection formed, she averted her gaze, choosing instead to continue on her journey. She walked with purpose, footsteps marching in a steady rhythm that both connected and distanced her from you. She couldn’t get caught up with you. She had a job to do.

Realising she was going to walk away, you pushed yourself off the swing, a mix of hope and nerves swirling inside you as you discarded the book somewhere in the grass.

None of that mattered. Natalia was here. She was back.

“Hey, wait!” You shouted, practically running after her. You reached out to grab her wrist, but she jerked away, shoving you back a few steps with surprising force.

Up close, the difference was unquestionable.

The once soft and kind Natalia had evolved into a hardened version of herself, sharpened by strong fists. Her eyes once filled with innocence, now harbour shadows of pain and resilience. She exuded an aura of toughness, and a guarded silence had replaced the laughter that used to be a melody in her voice.

“Natalia? What are you doing here?” You inquired, tentatively closing the gap between you both. You watched as she winced at her name falling from your lips.

And yet, this time, she didn’t evade your touch. Her hand trembled slightly as it met yours, eyes fluttering shut for a moment. In that fleeting silence, you took in the toll life has taken on her. Her arms bear the marks of countless scars, remnants of battles fought in shadows, and bruises of varying hues.

“What happened to your arms?” Your voice is gentle, a soft inquiry borne out of concern.

But, the sudden confrontation had her retreating into herself, defences rising once more like impenetrable walls. You mustn’t know. She could never do that to you. “Let go.” She demanded sharply, her tone cutting through the air like a knife.

Caught off guard, you hesitated for a moment, unsure of how to proceed, but that’s long enough for her to decide to rip her hand out of yours, sharp and abrupt.

“Are you okay?” Your voice was barely a whisper as you watched her practically flee, disappearing around the corner of the street.

You don’t follow her.

OCTOBER 2012

Funny how throughout life, fate seemed to play a game with you, pulling Natalia in and out of your orbit like a cosmic dance.

At twenty-seven, you found yourself entrenched in the fast-paced world of trauma nursing. After the arduous journey through medical school, you packed your bags and set your sights on the East Coast. New York City welcomed you with open arms, its vibrant chaos becoming the backdrop to your new life. From your boss’s office window, the silhouette of the Empire State Building stood tall, a symbol of strength amidst the chaos below.

You thrived in this environment, relishing in the opportunity to connect with and assist people in their most vulnerable moments. The adrenaline rush of the emergency room, the delicate balance between life and death—it fuelled you in ways nothing else could. Not since that summer night. Not since you tried to touch the stars.

Today, however, the hospital was enveloped in an air of secrecy and quiet urgency. Paramedics had rushed in with a new patient a few hours ago, shrouded in mystery as they were rushed straight into surgery. Usually, you're first on-site with incoming patients but you had been busy working your rounds to be able to assist, and there were enough on the trauma team – with the security clearance - to handle such a situation.

Stopping by the bedside of your oldest patient, Mrs. Dinton, you smiled sweetly. “Hey, Mrs Dinton. How are we today?”

"Ah, there you are, dearie," she said, her voice crackling with age. "I was just telling Nurse Molly here about the delightful hospital pudding they serve on Wednesdays. It's simply divine, don't you think?"

You chuckled softly, waving a hello to your colleague. "I'm afraid I'm not much of a fan, Mrs. Dinton. But I'm glad to hear you're enjoying it."

She laughed, a sound like tinkling bells. "Oh, well, means more for me then."

Before you could continue the conversation – could reprimand the elderly woman about how she needs to watch her sugar intake - Dr. Cho appeared at your side, her expression serious. "Excuse me, ladies. But, Nurse Y/N, is needed elsewhere." She says kindly but with a hint of urgency, no room for questioning. You and Dr. Cho were great friends, having graduated med school together and now working at the same hospital.

“What is it, Helen?” You asked, following her footsteps out the ward, navigating the labyrinthine hallways of the hospital.

“I’ve been assigned postoperative care for the Jane Doe and I want you with me...” Your heart dropped at the mention of the mystery woman.

All day, the hushed tones and covert glances exchanged among your colleagues hinted at the gravity of the situation. Their whispers that followed you through the hospital corridors spoke of a failed suicide attempt. While the hospital had sadly seen its share of such cases, this one was different – a Jane Doe, requiring an unusual degree of privacy.

“…while I don’t know any more than you about what happened, I trust you the most to help me with her. So I got you clearance. Go grab us a pair of gloves, I’ll meet you inside.” Helen finished with a nod before entering the private wing.

You donned your own pair of latex and made your way back to the private wing, the click of your shoes echoing down the corridor. The atmosphere was thick with anticipation and concern. The weight of the unknown pressed upon you as you approached the room where the troubled soul awaited treatment. Few years being a trauma nurse, you had seen it all… but not a Jane Doe. Never a Jane Doe.

Upon entering, you found Helen already studying the patient's chart. The subdued lighting in the room cast a sombre mood, and the machines hummed softly in the background. The Jane Doe was laid on the hospital bed, head secured in a neck brace and a tube down her throat, a silent testament to the ordeal she had endured.

“Thanks,” Helen whispered, making her way over to retrieve her gloves. "I've gone through everything in the notes. The attempt was pretty severe."

You nodded, taking in the gravity of the situation. The silence was broken only by the soft beeping of the monitors as you both began your work. Each movement was deliberate, and each procedure executed with precision and empathy. You adjusted the IV drip, checked the vital signs, and made sure everything was in order.

Sometime later, Helen had left, her pager going off as her presence was needed with another incoming patient. The room seemed to hold its breath, but it was only you. The machine to your right, making sure the woman was still breathing.

You read over her notes once more.

“Female, 5’7…” You ramble aimlessly to no one as you find yourself unable to voice the rest.

The laceration on her neck caught your attention. The wound stretched across her delicate skin, a jagged seam where the surgeons' skilled hands had meticulously stitched the deep gash closed. The edges of the cut were puckered slightly, evidence of the trauma dealt with by the knife paramedics found next to her unconscious body. Judging by the shape, it seemed like she plunged rather than sliced, the offending weapon, then, pulled out instead of left inside. She was quite malnourished, her cheeks hollowed out, collarbone visible as the gown drowned her thin figure. She lacked a sufficient amount of muscle. You wondered how someone could go unnoticed without eating for several days. It was as if she had become a ghost, fading away in plain sight.

The woman looked ill - eyes sunken with abnormally pale skin. Drifting down her body, you noticed her legs. A horrified gasp threatened to leave your lips. Raised red lines covered the expanse of her legs, some scabbed up, some clear burn marks that had turned into blisters. Her arms were just as bad, marred with a history of wounds that ran from her wrists to her shoulders.

Behind all the equipment, her face was almost unrecognisable. Her hair was what stood out the most, the auburn curls matted with blood. A sense of familiarity washed over you, the red striking your curiosity.

You couldn't tear your gaze away as you watched her stir. Unsure if she was waking or simply moving unconsciously, you remained still, not wanting to startle her. But then her face contorted with pain, and her lashes began to flutter open.

The sheets rustled as she tried to turn, her discomfort evident from the way she struggled against the tubes and wires tethering her to the medical machinery. You couldn't help but feel a pang of sympathy for her, lying there in such a vulnerable state. No identity. No family to be there for her.

"Stay still, please.” You whispered softly, stepping closer to her bedside. “You're in the hospital. You’re safe."

Her eyes, clouded with pain and confusion, met yours for a fleeting moment before flickering away. She seemed to be trying to process where she was and what had happened.

“Paramedics found you unconscious and rushed you in.” You explained gently, hoping to offer some semblance of clarity amidst the chaos of her thoughts. “You had a wound to the neck. We’ve managed to close it, so don’t move around too much. Otherwise, you might open the stitches.”

Her gaze drifted back to you, and for a moment there was a flicker of recognition in her eyes. It was fleeting, gone almost as quickly as it had appeared, but it was enough to make your heart skip a beat.

You saw as she went to speak, only to find pain and a heavy weight against her tongue. “Careful. You shouldn’t try to speak yet. We’re not sure how much damage has been done to your vocal cords.”

As if she didn’t hear you, she continued fidgeting, fighting against the intrusion in her mouth, panic overriding.

“Hey, listen to me,” you coaxed, voice soft but firm, your hand reaching out to settle over hers, the glove long forgotten. “I need you to calm down, please. You’re going to be okay. You just need to rest your voice.”

Her eyes darted to you, wide with fear and frustration, and you squeezed her hand gently, offering what little comfort you could.

“It’s going to be alright, just take slow breaths. Focus on that.” You started to breathe deeply, deliberately, hoping she'd follow your lead. Inhale... exhale... in a steady rhythm, like waves lapping against the shore

As you continued to focus on stabilising her breathing, your eyes inadvertently met hers, and in that moment, you were drawn into the depths of those vibrant green orbs. They held a world of pain, swirling like a tempestuous storm beneath the surface. Yet, amidst the turmoil, there's a glimmer of familiarity that tugged at the corners of your memory.

There’s something about her you can’t make sense of.

Why does she look so familiar? Who is she?

“Do I know you?” You almost asked, but then suddenly, the door to the waiting room clicked open, and Helen strode in, her expression wavering as she noticed the woman awake. “She’s awake already?!” Shock and bewilderment visible on her face.

She advanced, quickly spewing off questions in your direction, as her eyes narrowed in on the woman, assessing her condition with a quick, practised glance.

"She's awake, a little panicked about being in a hospital, but also a bit disoriented," you explained, voice calm despite the urgency of the situation. "Vitals are stable for now.”

With that, you stepped away, dropping her hand you had forgotten you were still holding, as Helen went to introduce herself. Your lunch break was coming up and before you could turn to leave the room, Helen stopped you. "Thank you for staying with her," she said softly, "There was a car accident. Two little girls rushed in for surgery. They needed me."

You nodded in understanding. You couldn’t fault her. Every day seemed to bring a new challenge, a new story, and today was no different. This Jane Doe was no different.

Before you could delve deeper into your thoughts, she interrupted, “Anyways, I’m here now and pager is off,” she drew your attention to the device in her pocket, “Boss’s order... now go take your lunch break.”

With a small smile, you left the room, the door softly closing behind you. Walking down the hallways, your mind buzzed with curiosity about the woman. Her face – those eyes - nagged at the edges of your memory, like a puzzle waiting to be solved.

Where do I know you from, Jane Doe?

#my fics! ꒰ᐢ. .ᐢ꒱₊˚⊹#natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff x you #natasha romanoff x y/n #natasha romanoff #natasha x reader

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penciled-palominos · 7 months

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Hello Horseblr!! It's your resident horse girl once again! Today I come with a gift!

MY OWN HORSE-TOBER PROMPT LIST!!! I've never seen one of these done before but I thought hey! Why not make my own!! Sorry, it's so close to october when I'm posting this for the first time, I meant to make this like a week ago but I forgor

I actually made 3 different versions, just for fun, all technically have the same words but they're split differently, we have all 31 days of October in the first list, then only the odd days, and only the even days, just for people who may choose to only do it bi-daily :))

PLEASE FEEL FREE TO TAG ME IN ANYTHING YOU MAKE WITH THIS LIST IF YOU SO CHOOSE TO USE IT!!

Feel free to also do any days you feel like and don't feel pressured to do all of em or even do to em on the day they're meant for! Just have fun!!

[Image ID: Above is pictured 3 peices of paper reading at the top in bigger lettering "Horse-Tober 2023" [a mix of the word horse and october] Below that is each day of October numbered out 1-31 followed by a prompt placed to the right of the number, they read as follows:

1. Desert

2. Food

3. Pinto

4. With other animals

5. Mythical

6. Fandom

7. Draft Horse

8. Party

9. Donkey

10. Pottery

11. Spirit

12. Ocean

13. Meadow

14. Games

15. Relaxation

16. Old West

17. Plushie

18. Skeleton

19. Painting

20. Foal

21. Flowers

22. Vintage

23. Buttons

24. Wild

25. Fear

26. Technology

27. Racing

28. Fairy

29. Costume

30. Pumpkin

31. Kelpie

The other two photos read off the exact same header of the page "Horse-Tober 2023" but each only has either the even or odd numbers of the 31 day list End ID ]

This is my first time attempting to add like an ID to a post, so I really hope I did it well?? If there's something to fix, please let me know

#Horse-Tober 2023 #< oh also use this tag maybe #thatd be pretty cool if you wanna #but i hope yall have fun if you choose to do any of these and please tag me i will be going feral if i see even a single drawing #id #horseblr

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prideplus · 2 years

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Hello there, LGBTQIA+ Tumblr. Look, June is a nice enough month; it’s got all the flowers and bees and stuff. But it also means that you, like the person writing this, will soon be steeped in unholy amounts of rainbow-cloaked late-stage capitalism. That’s not what this is.

What is this, then? Well, it’s us inviting you to celebrate your pride on Tumblr, and this year, we’re joining in. Each week, we’ll be honoring a different spectrum of LGBTQIA+ identities and sexualities that make up this glorious hellsite in our Pride+ blog header, with two prompts going out every Monday. We want to give everyone the chance to join in and feel seen, always. So these prompts are for everyone, whether you identify with the week’s theme or not!

You can join in and tag your posts #not just in june, or you can join in and not use that tag, or you can not join in and simply lurk in the #not just in june tag and enjoy the festivities that way. We’ll be using that tag for our own responses, too, so you can also learn a little bit more about the LGBTQIA+ folks behind the hellsite. We’ll also be reblogging some of the best posts here on Pride+, so please feel free to use your new reblog controls wisely if you don’t want us to feature you.

This is a totally optional, hopefully fun, five weeks of prompts that you can dip in and out of. It’s an invitation to celebrate all your exquisite sides—the creative, the funny, the shitposty—with your community. We cordially invite you to go wild and have fun with this. Not just in June. We’ll be here for you all year round (read more about that here).

#lgbtqia+ pride #not just in june

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tomb-of-heroes · 2 months

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Hello hello! Happy first day of March! This week's featured writer is the lovely author, Misty (aka @starshineandbooks)(she/they), who runs a writing blog (@legendofmorons) for Linked Universe, as well as general LoZ content.

Misty also does run an Ao3, which features other fandoms as well.

For 18+ readers, Misty does also run a separate blog dedicated to such content--Minors dni

𝕾𝖔𝖒𝖊 𝖔𝖋 𝕸𝖎𝖘𝖙𝖞'𝖘 𝖜𝖔𝖗𝖐𝖘:

Smudged Pages - (Wild x artist! Reader) Rated G ... Wild loves when you draw- so he decides to leave you a little gift in your sketch book.

To be valued - (Warriors x reader) Rated G, fluff, romance, slight angst at beginning ... You remind Warriors that he is valued and worth his weight in gold.

Sick day - (Twilight x reader) Rated G ... You're under the weather, so of course the boys take care of you as best they can.

Summer nights (legend x reader) Rated G ... You and Legend spend a night together at a festival and get to relax.

A moment of peace (Wild) Rated G ... As you brush out and then braid his hair, Wild basks in your presence. It's a peaceful time for you both. Even as you remind him that relationships aren't transactions.

Time gives you a flower Rated G ... Time gives you a flower, and you press it. He is amazed by the other pressed flowers and plants you have.

Requests?

Yes! Please refer to rules page Currently OPEN

Tags?

#misty writes

#linked universe #linked universe content creators #lu creators #lu writing #loz creators #loz writing #content creator #legend of zelda #loz content creators #caretaker cucco

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illumeew · 3 months

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first dates | chaeya

cute chaeya art by @tecochet!

Summary: The stress that is making a good impression on a first date.

Tags: Fluff/Romantic Fluff, First Date, Goofy Tartaglia (a mess the entire time), Rarepair!1!, Ragbros have reconciled in this fic, Cute. Just cute.

A/N: this was written for a friend ! apologies to those who don't like rarepairs :( i do find their dynamic quite cute though (if we don't look at the Other side of this relationship). credits go to tecochet for this masterpiece found in the header picture!

From the other apartment’s window opposite the room owned by the Cavalry Captain of the Knights of Favonius, the neighbor could sight the man—the said Cavalry Captain, Kaeya Alberich—buttoning a loose white, long-sleeved blouse with puffed sleeves. According to a certain librarian, he had a meeting scheduled with the Fatui.

Of course, those were the words that came from Kaeya’s mouth, but what Lisa the Librarian had interpreted was that the someone he had been daydreaming about during Ordo meetings was none other than the Eleventh Fatui Harbinger, Tartaglia. High-ranking, seemingly but obviously very menacing. And even wild, as per Kaeya’s words.

Having only met, guessing from how Kaeya only started a small starconch collection on the shelf beside his desk two months earlier, they were already intimate. How inappropriate, thought Jean during one of her chats with Lisa regarding the subject of their Quarterback’s personal love life.

Kaeya messed with the cloth of the blouse, tousling it to make it seem loosely fitted, and it accentuated his waist perfectly. It combatted the black leggings he wore that were, in a way, tighter than what most of the other captains wear. Everything about what he had on, he did it in a calm manner, occasionally rummaging through his closet if the accessories he had on didn’t fit the theme of his clothing. Au naturale is what he called his outfit, yet nothing he put on seemed natural at all.

Meanwhile, on the other side of the land shared by Mondstadt and Liyue, a certain someone, dressed in the most proper—ranging haggard—outfit on, as he tried to pick between bunches of flowers exported from Mondstadt. Tartaglia has never been to Mondstadt despite his status as a Fatui Harbinger, which he lied about to Kaeya after the captain asked him if he’d ever traveled to his nation before.

“Of course I have!” That was an obvious lie. He was sweating. “I even picked up your favorite flower.”

Kaeya was surprised to see that Tartaglia knew what his favorite flower was the first time they met by the borders of Liyue. Whether it be a guess or Tartaglia was really too into him was what Kaeya asked not of—the moment those words were heard by him, he was in absolute bliss.

But really.

From the way Tartaglia was struggling to pick out which of the many Mondstadt specialty flowers were Kaeya’s favorite. Hell, he didn’t even know if his favorite flower was from Mondstadt. It could’ve been Liyuean flowers or Fontainian flowers. Whatever it was, he just needed to get a gift for his darling, sweet captain.

Windwheel Asters? Seemed too flashy. Kaeya’s always flashy, but never too much, he thought.

Lampgrasses? Too bright. It’s his brother’s signature flower, he rolled his eyes.

Cecilias? Mondstadt’s national flower. No, Tartaglia switched to the last bunch.

The moment Tartaglia’s eyes landed on the fourth bunch, it immediately screamed “Kaeya. Kaeya Alberich of the Knights of Favonius,” and he was sure he’d love them. He told the seller the fourth one and grabbed his wallet to pay, leaving the array of other regional flowers with a smile. It was as if he almost forgot he had a date to go to, to which he started sprinting to the other side of the harbor, clothes tattered and messy.

He just hoped Dandelions were Kaeya’s favorite flowers and not the forgotten Calla Lilies.

Kaeya held a flower between his fingertips. His favorite, a Calla Lily, and he’d already imagined what Tartaglia would look like holding out the bouquet for him to grab. A bouquet of Calla Lilies just for him? How endearing! He could already see the look on his brother’s face once he brags about the bouquet given to him by his lover, someone Diluc doesn’t have.

“What a shame, dear brother,” the captain snickered, hiding his smile behind his hand as he held a glass of wine with the other. “You said you’d find a suitor before I did. Where’s that now?”

Over the letters they’ve sent the past few weeks, they’d both agreed on a place to settle in with their first date, which was at Angel’s Share, somewhere not just Kaeya, but Tartaglia too, could flaunt their relationship to Master Diluc. Not that it was Tartaglia’s idea to do so, and had Kaeya not agreed to it, they would have simply walked the lands of Mondstadt, hand in hand.

“Watch him enter that door—” Kaeya pointed at the front door of the tavern. “holding a bouquet of my favorite flowers to give to me.”

Though, when Tartaglia did enter the tavern, not only was he holding a bouquet of the wrong flowers, but he also came in with a mess of an outfit. It was an improper suit, noticeable marks of dirt were on some spots on his pant legs, and his hand was scratched up.

Tartaglia heaves a pant, looking up from the ground, and smiles at the captain. “For you, milyy.”

Whether that pink-coated smile of Kaeya’s was a face of embarrassment or a face of love, Kaeya came to the manor with Tartaglia the next month for the Ragnvindrs’ monthly family dinners, and Diluc simply assumed that they were both still together, even after that messy first date.

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laurenairay · 1 year

Text

All I’ve Tried to Hide - A. Svechnikov

This is my entry for the winter fic exchange 2k23, run by the wonderful @antoineroussel.

I received @hoesforthecanes as a giftee, so I really hope you enjoy this Anna!

I had a lot of fun incorporating the ‘forbidden love’ trope that you had a preference for, and with writing a full fic for Andrei Svechnikov for the first time! I really hope you enjoy reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it! 🥰 definitely finished this quicker than I expected, but I was so inspired, so here we go!

All photos in the header banner are not mine; found across pinterest. Title from Dirty Little Secret, by All American Rejects.

Word count: 2k

Warnings: light angst, implied sexual moments, a little fluff

Summary: Hooking up with Andrei Svechnikov was all fun and games, as long as your brother didn’t find out…

We can’t choose who we fall in love with.

That’s what you told yourself, over and over again, every time you saw him. Every time you felt his molten gaze brushing over your body. Every time his smirk sent shivers down your spine. Every time he walked across the bar to you with that intense stare, your body filling with eager anticipation.

Because no-one knew.

That’s right, no-one knew that you and Andrei Svechnikov had been sleeping together for nearly six months now – and that’s the way it needed to stay. Why? Because your brother hated the idea of you being with an athlete. A few horrifically failed relationships in high school and college, all with athletes of various kinds, had left you broken in pieces on your older brother’s doorstep every single time, and now that you’d wound up living with him after your last failed relationship – as well as working in his bar – you were dependent on his charity. So if he said no more athletes, then it was no more athletes…at least until you could get on your own two feet again.

What? You had a type, as much as it shamed you – and Andrei fit your type to a tee.

You could remember the first time you saw him. A big loud group of bigger louder guys had filled your brother’s bar, instantly attracting attention from most the patrons, and as a few of them pushed a couple of tables together, he had walked up to the bar where you were working. You could remember the soft smile on his lips as he leant over the bar top to place his order, the gentle rumble of his lilting accent intriguing you, and you knew the moment that he set up a limitless tab with a confident wink that you were in trouble. It had only taken a couple more visits before he was slipping through the staff door, the two of you connecting in a heated make-out in a secluded corner of the storage room out back, his lips, tongue, and hands sending you wild like no-one ever had before.

And it continued, over and over again, escalating to the two of you hooking up at Andrei’s place whenever he was in town, somehow managing to avoid your brother’s judgement, keeping your risqué relationship away from the bar and under wraps.

Everything had been perfect, until the passing of your birthday last week. Andrei had been on a roadtrip on the day itself, and you’d only just about managed to convince him not to send you a bouquet of flowers to the bar (which was out of character in itself), but now that he was back he’d insisted on celebrating properly with you, so you’d come over to his place for the evening. He’d hired a private chef to cook the most amazing three course meal, the two of you sipping on the most delicious wine you’d ever tasted throughout, and as soon as the chef left, he’d whisked you off to his bedroom, bringing you to dizzying heights over and over again, until you were wailing his name out for the entire city to hear.

It was only when he presented you with a diamond necklace, your skin still gleaming and your breathing still ragged, that you realised you weren’t just falling in love with him – you had fallen, head over heels, hook line and sinker. And you also realised that you needed to end things now, before you fell in too deep to recover.

“Andrei, what is this?”

“Your birthday gift?” he said, frowning softly in confusion, “Is it too much? Do you not like it?”

“It’s beautiful…but it isn’t what we do?” you said, wincing.

His frown sunk into a deeper confused expression, so you sat upright, clutching the bedsheets to your bare chest.

“We just – this is just hooking up, Andrei. You shouldn’t be buying me expensive gifts like this. Even hiring a chef to cook for us feels crazy,” you said softly, hating the words as they spilled from your lips.

You watched as his face shuttered, his broad shoulders drawing in on himself, hating yourself for making such a big guy look so small. What was wrong with you? Why were you doing this to him when it felt so wrong? But then he seemed to steel himself, posture straightening and broad chest filling out once more – and he looked you dead in the eyes, making your breath hitch in your throat.

“You are saying this because of your brother?”

His blunt statement made you wince – it was hardly a secret how your brother felt – the anger in his words feeling like a sharp stab, mostly because he was right.

“Andrei, I-”

“I don’t want to keep lying,” he said, interrupting, “lying to myself, to you, to the world. I don’t care that your brother doesn’t want you with an athlete. I know you like me and I like you, and I want you to be mine without all the stupid lying. Why can’t you understand that?”

His words rushed through your body like burning fire, his accent getting thicker as he spoke, showing you exactly how genuine his passion was. But it didn’t change that fact that nothing could change. Even though he was confessing everything you were desperate to hear, matching your own feelings for him, because it was also everything you were trying to repress for your own good.

“It isn’t that easy,” you murmured, averting your eyes.

“So, what, I will be your dirty little secret forever? And you will do whatever your brother says, forever?”

“My brother is just trying to protect me because he loves me,” you shot back, glaring over at him.

Because this wasn’t about you being ashamed of him, or that your brother was a cruel person. You’d just messed up your love life one too many times for your brother to not want to be involved. It wasn’t that complicated.

“He loves you? Great! Well I love you too!”

Even with the anger that Andrei snapped those words at you, your whole body froze, eyes wide and lips parted in shock. And when Andrei realised what he said, he froze too, eyes wide as well as although his were wide in fear rather than in shock, as if he’d let slip something he never intended on saying.

“I didn’t…I mean, I-”

“You love me?” you managed to ask, voice soft in disbelief.

Andrei sighed but nodded, face crumpling in defeat, hanging his head to avoid looking at you.

“Andrei, I…”

You trailed off, running a hand through your unkempt hair, head swirling at his admission as all the fight drained from your body. Because how were you supposed to process this? This was everything you’d been trying to avoid, on every single level. This relationship you had with Andrei was just supposed to be a fun, fiery fling, free from any strings or expectations. And now he’d admitted his love for you, in the moment that you’d realised exactly how deep your love for him was?

What was any sane person supposed to do here?

The soft touch of Andrei’s hand resting on top of yours broke you out of your inner turmoil, and you looked over at him to see the saddest smile on his face, so unnatural in comparison to his usual happy expressions.

“I understand if you do not love me. I am sorry for putting pressure on you like that,” he said softly, smile weak, “we can pretend I didn’t say anything.”

What?

“And you’d just be happy to go back to how things were before, even with both of us knowing that it isn’t enough for you?” you asked, a little incredulous.

“If the other option is losing you entirely, then I can’t do that. I would rather have the smallest part of you, than nothing at all,” he shrugged, sad smile now reflecting the self-deprecation clearly fuelling his actions.

No, no this wasn’t okay. It wasn’t fair, not to him…and not to you. Here was a guy putting his heart and feelings on the line, believing that you were going to reject him anyway because of a few stupid mistakes you’d made in your past? A guy that treated you like no-one ever had before, brought you crashing waves of pleasure like no-one ever had before, and who cared for you like no-one ever had before? And who you cared for more than you ever had for anyone else? You were going to give up that chance of happiness, all because of a few worthless guys?

No, no way.

“I don’t want to go back to how things were before,” you said softly.

Hurt immediately flashed across his face before he quickly composed himself. “Right, okay. I’m sorry.”

It took you a few moments to realise what he meant, but when you finally did, you promptly shook your head.

“No, I didn’t mean it like that. I…”

You drew your bottom lip into your mouth as you struggled to choose the right words to say, Andrei just watching you with a hesitant expression that ever-so-slowly filled with confidence.

“You don’t want to be just a hook up?” he asked hopefully.

You shook your head, staying silent.

“You maybe want to be more?” he prompted again, a small smile spreading across his lips.

You bit your bottom lip before releasing it from your mouth, nodding shyly, earning a broad grin from the man sitting next to you.

“I need to hear you say it. Please, say it,” he pleaded softly, brown eyes wide and hopeful.

Inhaling shakily, you nodded again, looking down at your lap briefly to compose yourself before looking back at him, the hope in his eyes not having faded at all.

“I don’t know how we’re going to make it work. I don’t know how I’m going to convince my brother that this is going to work, that I’m not making another mistake. But I want to try, with you,” you said softly.

Once the words were past your lips, it felt like your blood was surging, the emotions of your confession all but overwhelming you, the hand that Andrei placed on your sheet-covered thigh the only thing that anchored you.

“You won’t regret this, I promise. I’m going to make you so happy, solnyshko,” Andrei said happily, the wide smile on his face sending butterflies soaring in your stomach.

Of that you had no doubt. No matter what happened, however your brother reacted, you knew in your heart that Andrei would be by your side, and that was enough to give you hope. His broad smile turned a little shy all of a sudden, piquing your interest as he rummaged in the sheets, clearly looking for something. And then your breath hitched in your throat as he drew out the box from earlier, delicately holding that beautiful diamond necklace.

“So if you’re mine and I’m yours, will you wear this?” he asked.

What a rush it was to hear those words.

“Right now?” you asked, confused.

He smiled sweetly, nodding, so you just nodded in return. Andrei smiled even wider, taking the necklace out of its box and unclasping it, leaning intimately closer to you as he fastened it around your neck. The cool stones sent a shiver across your heated skin, a different shiver zapping down your spine as Andrei’s finger lightly traced the edge of it, trailing across your collarbone to finish.

Unfair.

“How does it look?” you breathed.

You dropped the sheet you’d been holding to your chest the whole time you’d been sitting upright, revealing your bare body to him once more, the diamonds around your neck the only item you now wore. Andrei’s eyes darkened slightly, making your heart beat that little bit faster with the promise they held.

“Beautiful. You look beautiful,” he murmured.

When that familiar smirk crept across his lips, finally, you knew you were done for. He slowly crawled over to you, gently lowering your body back to the bed as he covered you with his own broad torso, eyes and hands and lips trailing over you in a tease that sent your blood swirling, and it was all you could do to lose yourself in his embrace.

No more secrets. No more hiding. Andrei Svechnikov was yours, and now the world was going to know.

#my writing #the winter fic exchange 2k23 #andrei svechnikov fic #i really hope you enjoy this anna!#andrei svechnikov x reader #andrei svechnikov imagine #andrei svechnikov fanfic #nhl writing #nhl imagine #nhl fic #hockey writing #hockey imagine #hockey fic

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littleshopofhorrors-confessions · 2 months

Text

Welcome to my combination flower shop/dentist's office/confession blog! currently the flower shop is closed for renovations, and the dentist's office, well we've hit a few dead ends- i mean the current situation is a little suffocating- no I just mean some things are going funny- uh, forget about it. It's just a confession blog

This blog is for anything LSOH related. The stage show, the 80s movie, the 60s movie. Fanfics to Funko pops, go wild. Just leave your deep dark secrets in the askbox above!

This blog is run by @ohnoitsjetster

Pfp by @mellowyellow56

TAGS:

#cw Suggestive is what i use to indicate nsft asks, thats the one I gotta make sure everyone knows. Rest (and more blog info) below the cut

Characters: #Seymour Krelborn, #Audrey Fulquard, #Orin Scrivello, #Mr Mushnik, #Arthur Denton, #The Urchins, #Twoey or #Audrey 2 on the older ones, ive even got some #Skip Snip tags on here

Other: #Simping, #Shipping, #Cw Suggestive, #gender, #not a confession, #hater tag of shame, #lsoh production (thats a new one im trying to add bc a surprising amount of yall are in productions), and I tag basically everything as #Little Shop of Horrors and #Confession

I will post confessions whether or not they are anonymous so make sure it’s on the setting you want. If you need me to take down one of your confession for any reason, let me know and it will be done.

I tend to commentate. I will post all valid confessions but you are not safe from my opinion in the tags.

Im new to this whole schtick so bear with me and im sorry if I end up deleting this blog if it gets too overwhelming or anything.

Im also looking for art for my pfp and header so if you’re alright w me using your lsoh art, lmk! I’ll credit ofc.

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custom-pronoun-pins · 8 months

Note

Can you make one for he/she please?

of course :)

[ID: Eleven circular pronoun pins with transparent backgrounds. The first is black, with a white ring around the outer edge, with "he" written in white text, and "She" written in yellow. The second is a stock photo of a cyberpunk, Matrix-style person in dark sunglasses, holding a neon rod behind their head, with "he-she" written in neon-style green text. The third is covered in different wild flowers, with "he she" in light and dark purple text with a white outline. The fourth is a grey brick wall, with antique style white font with a black outline reading "he she" The fifth is a drawing of a crescent moon with small white stars, and black text. The sixth is a half photo, half digital painting of a realistic crescent moon in a black-to-blue gradient sky scattered with tiny stars while clouds lit grey and orange by the sunset below, and cursive white text that reads, "my pronouns are he she". The seventh is a purple galaxy background, with concentric white rings, and "he/she" in white text with a bold outline in a computerized style font. The eighth is a phooto of ocean waves from above, with bold black text that reads "he she" The ninth is a swirling abstract background of black, blue, and red, with white text that reads, "My pronouns are he/she - that means you refer to me as both 'he' and 'she'". The tenth is half yellow and half black, with black text curving across the top that reads, "my pronouns are", then "he" in black on the yellow half, and "She" in yellow on the black half. The eleventh is colorful stripes of rainbow paint, with text with a black outline and center, and pastel inner edges, that reads, "please use He/She pronouns for me!" End ID.]

You can download the HD versions from the web archive!

"https://archive.org/details/he-she-pronoun-pins-by-request-september-5th-2023"

These are free to download and print out, and you're welcome to share them to other sites, or use for icons / headers, in art, ect! All I ask is that you include an image description to make the post accessible! Copying and paste the relevant section above is the easiest way to do this :)

Requests are always open!

These designs will appear in this collection in my threadless store when they're done uploading, so you can buy them as buttons, shirts, stickers, ect! :)

#long post #described images #custom pronoun pins #pronoun pins #he/she #he/she pronouns #heshepronouns

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shellibisshe · 1 year

Text

— ocs as art motifs and supernatural creatures

tagged by @roofgeese @corvosattano @chuckhansen @jackiesarch @nightbloodraelle @indorilnerevarine @marivenah and @leviiackrman to take these two uquizzes (art motifs & supernatural creatures) for some ocs!! thank you all !

tagging@loriane-elmuerto @calenhads @jendoe @queennymeria @phillipsgraves @risingsh0t @adelaidedrubman @florbelles @unholymilf @confidentandgood @shallow-gravy @shadowglens @denerims @nuclearstorms @girlbosselrond @druidgroves@galeboettichergf @reaperkiller @ishwaris @snake-in-the-garden and anyone else!!

header inspo from @/leviiackrman!!

hands

is your love language touch? i suppose it might not be, but i also suppose you might just like being held. you might see the art in human bodies.

werewolf

You are a werewolf! Being one of the most well-known supernatural creatures in history, werewolves are human beings who have the ability to transform into a wolf-like beasts under a full moon. Gifted with heightened senses, werewolves, even in human form, roam around with keen smell, eyesight, speed, and hearing. Besides this, werewolves are powerful, fascinating creatures... always determined to get what they want, and knowing how to fight their ways through difficult times. They are beasts of strength, confidence, leadership, and are loyal to those they love and admire. The best of the pack, if I say so myself.

burning houses

your heart flies wild and free. you have the mind of an artist, spilling with ideas and dreams.

fairy

You are a fairy! Depending on the type, fairies come in all different shapes, sizes, and colors. Above all, they resemble the typical human physique. Fairies are beautiful, energetic, magical creatures. They have unlimited abilities, depending on the type they are. Some can make flowers bloom, others might be able to talk to animals and become friendly with them. To conclude, fairies will do whatever they can to make their peers happy. If you have a fairy friend, you're in luck! Don't take them for granted. But also remember to not be too oblivious! Some fairies can be tricksters!

a lonely person

though you may be quiet, your heart is full of longing. you spend much of your time with your own mind, and that may very well be a beautiful thing.

siren

You are a siren! Beyond talented, blessed creatures who use their dangerous voices to manipulate or drive people, specifically men, insane. You are creative and capable of so many things, and people are intimidated, or feel threatened, by your abilities, whatever that may be. However, there are times when you let your confidence overpower you, turning it into arrogance or judgment. Like sirens, if you're not careful, you may hurt someone, whether they're close to you or not. But don't let that discourage you! You are powerful... and many people look up to you. Keep your chin high!

snowy towns

you have the ability to see the greatness in the mundane, and it's beautiful. you would just like to live your life, and love all its things.

goblin

You are a goblin! Scattered across the most foreboding mountains and deep in the darkest mines, exist some of the most malicious, dangerous, and evil little creatures known to folklore, just waiting for an opportunity to steal your most precious belongings. Goblins aren't exactly what you would call a "human’s best friend." They each have their own powers, depending on the type they are, and their abilities are demonic, only meant to do harm instead of benefit. If you got this result, you're either really mean to people and don't realize it, or you're just super boring and weird. Or, maybe, you're a cool person after all and you just made a few mistakes on the quiz! No worries! :)

#sylvie would get that one #amara owens #marian ramos de león #sylvie green #tag game #corinne faera

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dragonmuse · 2 years

Note

Does Uncle Izzy ever have a year where he has to take Pickle trick or treating? I guess I'm in the mood for cozy Halloween...

@internerdionality and @thehobbitbadger both included this one in their groupings of questions, so I will save their asks for later and do this first!

The knock came right on time and Izzy opened his door to find a knee height unicorn, the pearlescent horn jutting out from her forehead and almost directly into his stomach.

“Thanks so much for this,” Thomas said in a rush, handing over a bag with a jack o’lantern face on it and her little backpack. “Just make sure she doesn’t eat too much candy.”

“Uh huh,” Izzy took the bag. “I don’t want her puking on me anymore than you do.”

“Great! Bye, baby, have fun,” Thomas leaned down and kissed the top of Pickle’s head.

“Bye, Daddy!” She chirped, then darted into the apartment. “When are we going?”

“Dinner first,” Izzy insisted, turning to make sure she didn’t take a header and when he turned back around Thomas was gone. He and Delly supposedly had theater tickets, but he suspected they were dying for a night alone.

He very rarely volunteered for overnights, but Delly had started looking a little wild around the eyes when picking Pickle up on Wednesday afternoons and Izzy didn’t want her to actually crack like an egg, so here they were.

“Can I have cheese?” Pickle asked.

“I made pizza,” he informed her.

“Yay! What kind?”

“Muschroom and sardine.”

“Uncle Izzy,” she glared at him. “Don’t be mean.”

“ I like mushrooms and sardines.”

“I don’t!”

“No?” He said vaguely, getting the oven mitts. “I guess you can have the plain one, but it sounds boring.”

“Yay!”

They ate on the couch. Pickle and the counter height stools had an unreliable history. She ate carefully, not getting any sauce on her monstrosity of a purple furry costume. Last week she had regaled Read in deep detail about the cartoon the thing was from and how it was a unicorn, but also a regular horse sometimes. Read had gone a little glassy-eyed and Izzy had tuned it all out to the best of his ability.

“Where are we gonna go?” she asked when she’d wolfed down have of her dinner.

“Figure we’ll do the building, then head out onto the street. Couple of stores will probably have stuff.”

“Okay! Can we go until my bag is full?”

“We’ll do an hour and see how we’re doing.”

“But I want to get more than Carolyn.”

Carolyn was technically Pickle’s closest friend, but Pickle also seemed to see her as a permanent adversary in a grudge match. The kid lived a few doors down from her, so maybe it was just a proximity thing.

“We’ll see.” He had said that phrase more since she’d gotten old enough to ask for things than the rest of his life combined.

“I’m ready!”

“Finish your pizza, we’re not snacking as we go.”

“But-”

“Dinner.”

“Meh.”

But she did finish eating and even brought her plate to the sink. The purple tail of the costume ended in a puff of iridescent strands. He’d have to vacuum later so Sweeney didn’t get them. The cat was sitting in the window, watching the commotion below with interest. Izzy gave him a chin scratch then took a deep breath and prepared for whatever nonsense was about to befall him.

“Is Read home?” Pickle asked immediately.

“Better knock and find out,” he opened the door so she could shoot across the hall to knock frenetically.

The door opened almost immediately. Read was wearing a headband with two black pom poms on springs and a yellow and black striped sweatshirt. Behind her, Anne had a similar headband, with a single spring with a big flower on it. Otherwise, she was in her regular velvet leggings and sweater look.

“Trick or Treat!” Pickle announced.

“Look at you!” Read exclaimed, reached in to her sweat shirt pocket and deposited a few bits of candy into her pillowcase. “Hey, can I ask you a big favor?”

“Yes!” Pickle said eagerly.

“Can Anne come with you? She’s never done Halloween like this, can you believe it?”

“Never?” Pickle asked, eyes wide.

“Never ever,” Read said solemnly. “And I’ve got to study for a big test, so she’d be bored if she stayed here.

“Did I say that?” Anne asked dryly. “I don’t think I said that.”

“But it’s true,” Read insisted. “So can she come with?”

“Yeah! Come with us, Anne!”

Apparently no one was going to ask Izzy. Fucking figured.

“Thanks, munchkin,” Anne smiled and bussed a kiss on Read’s cheek.

“Are you a flower?” Pickle asked.

“I am,” Anne confirmed. “Red flowers attract a lot of bees.”

“Cool,” Pickle determined. “I’m Moonglow! So there’s this show-”

“You can go down the hall,” Izzy cut her off. “Knock on the doors. If someone doesn’t respond in thirty seconds or so just jog on to the next.”

“Okay!” And she was off like a shot.

“Real reason you were booted from paradise?” Izzy asked.

“She’s setting up a little spooky movie night for everyone. First movie is Pickle safe, so she can hang until bedtime,” Anne said readily.

“Who’s everyone?” He asked resignedly.

“Dunno. You know. People?” She shrugged. “Not more than she can fit in the apartment. Probably.”

“Didn’t help plan?”

“I’ve been working overtime all week. I wasn’t even sure what day it was. I walked in and she stuck this thing on my head and here we are.”

“Here we fucking are,” he agreed.

“Oh, are you the man that lives in 19H?” An grey-haired woman asked as she let Pickle root through a small bowl of treats.

“That’s me,” he said warily.

“I’ve been meaning to ask about what you put on your windows. I noticed they’re tinted from the outside and I’ve been trying to block the light out in my bedroom for ages.”

“Uh, just kind of this sticker thing. They sell them all over...”

“I’m Babs, by the way,” she beamed down at Pickle who had made her selection. “Nice to see a child. Most years if I get one or two teenagers, I count myself lucky.”

“Izzy,” he said, resigned. Years of anonymity were going to be destroyed in minute.

“Well hold on a moment, let me get a pen and paper so you can write down the brand.”

Free of Babs and having thoroughly cased the hall, they trooped down the stairs to conquer the 18th floor.

“How’s things with work?” Izzy asked, when it became clear Pickle needed their help like she needed another hole in the head.

“Pretty good. It’s more of a change from receptionist than I thought it would be, but I’m digging it so far. Lots of document organizing. Flint frowns at me like fifty percent less than he did at the beginning, so I must be making progress.”

“Work on anything interesting?”

“Not that I can talk about,” she sighed. “It’s really annoying. I have to be all vague and shit.”

“Uh huh.” Izzy had spent most of his working life being blissfully vague to strangers, but such was life.

He did, in fact, meet many more residents that he had taken note of over the years. Luckily, Pickle was distraction enough that he mostly escaped without learning anyone’s name. Two of them though, the double parker with the year round winter coat and the mailbox busybody, both tried to make him stop and talk. By the time they got to the front door, he was ready to call it quits and it had only been forty minutes.

“The pharmacy has a whole table out!” Pickle reported, ducking around the front door. “Come on, come on!”

“Yeah,” Anne said dryly. “Come on.”

“Fuck,” he groaned and they were out into the unseasonably balmy night.

Children’s voices rang through the streets, clumps of them in bright costumes flanked by adults rushed in every direction. Traffic, naturally, didn’t slow and Izzy grabbed up Pickle’s hand.

“Look at the windows!” Pickle said instead of complaining, happily gripping him back and bobbing around like a balloon on a string. “All the orange lights.”

“Yeah, look at that,” Izzy said vaguely.

Then he stopped and actually looked while Pickle talked to the kid working the pharmacy’s sad table. Someone had taken time and set up a Halloween village in the window. Lights blinking and a little graveyard with cotton cobwebs.

“Did you do this as a kid?” Anne asked, follow his gaze. “Run around a neighborhood getting candy?”

“Yeah, every year. Until I was ten or so.”

“What would you dress up as? Unicorn?” she asked.

Anne had a permanent dryness to her that Izzy generally appreciated. Even when it was aimed at him.

“We didn’t have shit for anything big. Ghosts or robbers or whatever else we could piece together. Jonah was pretty good at drawing, so sometimes he’d do things on posterboard,” he tried to shake the memory loose. “Think I was a robot like that one year. Might’ve been Aaron.”

“Mommy said she was a princess every year,” Pickle chimed in.

“Huh, yeah, she was,” Izzy recalled. “Ma let her use her old prom dress. Some plastic crown too.”

“She looked really nice, I saw a picture,” Pickle told Anne. “But every one is a princess and it’s boring.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Uh huh. Can we keep going?”

They ranged up and down the street until it was Izzy holding the bag because Pickle couldn’t manage it anymore.

“Good enough,” he declared.

“Nooo I wanna keep going!”

Anne checked her phone, “Dunno, you might miss a cool party if we don’t head back.”

“A party?” Pickle’s eyes went wide. “Really?”

“Really really.”

“Hell yeah!”

Izzy actually had to run a little to catch up with her.

Read’s door was open, held by a shoe when they got upstairs. Sunshine was waiting by the door and gave an excited whine when she saw them coming.

“Hey honey girl,” Anne crooned and Sunshine started wagging her whole body.

“Come on in!” Read shouted from inside.

Inside, the lights were dimmed and there was a jaunty light up jack o’lantern on the kitchen counter. Something that smelled pretty damn good was simmering on the stove. On the couch was Jim and Oluwande. Lucius had dragged over one of the barstools and Charlie was on the floor, shoulder resting against Lucius’ knee. Izzy had known he was coming into town, but it had been for next week.

“What are you doing here, leech?” He asked.

“Leeching,” Charlie said cheerfully. “And suggesting movies no one else wants to watch, apparently.”

“Yeah, this is like fun scared, not ‘holy shit I never want to sleep again’ scared,” Read snorted. “Hot cider?”

Pickle commandeered Charlie into helping her sort candy which was great because Izzy had been planning some judicious application of latex gloves to that situation. Instead, he got a mug of apple cider and after attempting to find a spot on the floor and being thwarted, a seat on Luicus’ lap, who was obviously very smug over the situation.

“Hi,” Lucius kissed his cheek. “How was candy gathering?”

“Fine,” Izzy grumbled. “You know she’ll be over tonight? You going to head back home after?”

“Nah,” Lucius wrapped an arm around his waist. “How would I have halloween candy for breakfast if I did that?”

“You wouldn’t,” Izzy glared at him, unaware that he looked much like Pickle just then.

“I absolutely would and will,” Lucius cackled. “Oh hey, I love this song.”

Apparently everyone did because the entire apartment broke out in a happy rendition of ‘What’s this?” as a skeleton pelted pell-mell through Christmastown. Pickle had even paused in her candy sorting to watch.

“Don’t know the words, boss?” Jim teased.

“Never seen the movie,” He shrugged.

Many horrified eyes on him all at once.

“What? I was a teenager when this came out.”

“Old,” Jim heckled.

“You were like thirteen and this movie was awesome even then, I bet,” Read decreed.

“I was watching actual horror movies by then.”

“Guess you’ll just have to pay attention now,” Oluwande shrugged. “People miss things, it happens.”

“Yeah,” Jim conceded. “Fine. But pay attention.”

Izzy sighed, but he did pay attention. Only a little distracted by Lucius’ hand on his hip, Pickle’s thousand and one questions and Charlie’s bizarre commentary when he got warmed up about the nature of claymation.

So not that much attention at all actually, but he figured he would get points for trying.

#leda house and the kraken verse #ficlet #in a pickle #izzy hands #read the bones

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