Magnolia Qcc - Tumblr Posts

☕️ and ⛸️ from this ask game, pls? also good to see you around, eve! sending good ~~ vibes ~~ and good luck to ya. :3 - 💫 (@enchanted-lightning-aes)

enchant you're an angel <33 sending good vibes back because you gave me no names, I will take the liberty of picking two characters for each question from a quest of cards and calamity ☕️ Hot Cocoa: what do your OCs do if they need reassurance or comfort? Do they talk to someone/fall back on a certain activity? Alex (prior to the narrative) often needed reassurance and comfort, since their curse messed up interactions with people and basic tasks, yet they believed the faults were their own. So there are many afternoons where they are found sitting on the large windowsill in their room with the windows flung open, vibing with the animals - a capybara on their lap, a tapir by their side, and various birds on their shoulders and in their hair. Animals don't judge and no one goes to that part of the forest. Bennie destressed in his garden. After a long day dealing with customers who could somehow never interpret his painstakingly simple instructions correctly and minor injuries they could have tended to at home, they find no better place to be than among dirt and leaves. Covered all the way up to his elbows in earth, weeds curling and dying in the folds of his skirt, and a trowel waiting to be used by their side.

⛸️ Ice Skating: tell us about a skill your OC has. Is it unusual? Something they worked hard on? Does it ever come in handy? Cuckoo (when magic was around) was really great at manipulating the taste of things with their illusions. She would mess with people at the circus, often making some panic by making them think they were eating something they were allergic to when they were actually okay. They used it often when bouncing from village to village - she'd make chefs or patrons think food had spoiled so they would throw it out for her to eat. Though, sometimes she still made a scene in a restaurant. Just for fun. Maggie translated her wealth of knowledge for intricate braids - which came from days of practice being shut up in the house for her own protection - to learning to tie a myriad of sea-worthy knots. She hasn't used that skill yet, but she's sure it'll come in handy someday. Maybe. Hopefully.

ask game is linked in the ask (thanks for that)

12 days of writer self love day 2: crown

I saw the time and wrote this in a rush and I’m obsessed. This scene takes place after the narrative and is just so soft and sweet and domestic.

“This is so frustrating!” Alex fumed as they snapped another dandelion stem.

Cuckoo watched them upside down from the tree they were hanging from, two completed flower crowns layered over their bandana across their forehead. “I’m sure you’ll get it. You’ve always shown such prowess for fiddly tasks. Your skill with detail is unparalleled.”

Ben, sitting behind Cuckoo, shuffled forward and tugged on their dangling arms. They fell down with a thump into his lap and glared up at him good-naturedly. He ruffled their hair and turned back to his own garland. They had a dwindling pile next to them as what had been taught to be a flower crown was now turning into a rope taller than they were. Cuckoo picked up part of the chain and twisted it between their fingertips, squishing the petals out of shape.

“Don’t be cruel, Cuckoo,” Stella admonished. “It’s okay if you don’t finish. We have plenty to go around.” She tossed a finished daisy crown at Alex where it landed lopsided on their head. They grimaced cheerfully in thanks, brow furrowing again as Alex turned their attention back to their four linked dandelions.

“You mean you have plenty to go around,” corrected Maggie. A stack of flower crowns adorned her heads, all unique. Her braids were hidden and her eyes were partially blocked from the sheer volume of them.

Stella, offended, said, “I do not! I don’t have a single flower crown to my name. So, I’d better make one.”

“And declare me ruler again?” Maggie suggested with a knowing look.

“You do rule my heart,” Stella said, tilting Maggie’s chin up to give her a kiss.

“Get a room!” Cuckoo yelled from where they were still laying on Ben’s legs.

“You dare order her majesty around?” Stella flew to her feet, the half finished crown falling to the floor. She tackled Cuckoo onto the ground, and the crafting fell into giggles as the sun sank in the sky.

12 days of writer self care day 5: flower

This is just so cute!! Maggie and Stella’s families are very involved in flowers, so i felt it would be perfect to write about them. this was such a joy to write and explore more character backstory

Stella’s papa knelt down and held a closed fist in front of her. “Open it,” he said.

Her tiny eyebrows knit together as she pulled at his fingers. They didn’t budge. She grunted and pulled harder, tongue poking out from between her teeth. His pinky budged, then his hand opened all-of-a-sudden. Cheering, Stella seized the small, thin, wooden box.

“‘Tis it?” she asked, struggling with the clasp on the lid.

Taking the box from her, opening it, the handing it back, Stella’s papa asked, “You know how I grow pretty things in the garden?”

Stella bounced on her toes, the contents of the box rattling. “Yeah!” she said. “With Maggie’s mummy and daddy.”

“That’s right. So I took some of the flowers and I mixed them with water,” he explained.

“Like I make potions!”

He grimaced, but continued, “Exactly. And I let them dry. So now if you take this magic wand-” he placed a paintbrush into her hand “- and you add water to the paints, you can make pretty pictures.”

Stella’s eyes widened. She dashed to the kitchen and dunked the box in the bucket of water. Stella’s papa raced behind her and fished the paints out. 

“How about I show you how to do it,” he said, shaking the water off.

“Okay!”

That’s how they spent their afternoon. He started Stella on paper, and when she seemed trustworthy enough to leave, he went back to the gardens to work. This was a mistake. When he and his husband came home, the walls were covered in paint up to their knees. As was Stella. The paint palette was empty, and she was in love.

A few years later, Stella was knee-deep in flowers. Dirt was caked under her fingernails, and laughter bubbled within her. Maggie sat beside her, gathering flowers too. Finally satisfied with her haul, she brought the bouquet back inside.

“Just these please,” Stella piped up, setting the flowers on the counter.

Maggie’s mama smiled and said, “Of course.”

She wrapped the flowers up with paper and handed them to Stella, who struggled to make eye contact, hindered by the bundle. “Thank you!” she said.

“Do you want me,” Maggie asked, blushing, “to walk you home.”

Stella’s cheeks went hot too. “Only if you want to.”

“I do.”

Their hands swung together as they walked back to Stella’s home where she would make her first batch of paints; Stella dropped some flowers without an extra hand to secure the bundle, but with Maggie picking them up she didn’t mind.

More years passed. Stella planned an outing with her lifelong best friend and longtime crush. She invited Maggie to go material gathering — she collected all her own art supplies and regularly ran out of paint. Ensuring she had express permission from her parents given Maggie’s delicate state, Stella was delighted when Maggie agreed to the invitation.

She took her to her favorite meadow an hour before sunset. Softly rolling hills were covered in a sea of green and orange and gold, swaying in the breeze. It was almost hypnotic. Bouncing on her toes to get a better look at the field, Stella finally tugged Maggie down to sit. She ran her hands through her hair, disrupting the carefully manicured state she’d put it in before the outing. Her hands twitched on her leg. 

Reaching out to run her thumb along the back of Stella’s hand, Maggie’s brow creased. “Are you okay?” she asked.

Stella melted. “I’m fine,” she said, lingering in Maggie’s grip. Jerking her chin towards the flowers, she said, “Well? Let’s get picking.”

Careful to guide their direction, Stella began filling the basket Maggie had woven for her last birthday. Maggie helped, though slower as she checked each flower met Stella’s approval. This was why she was doing this. 

Finally, the pair stepped into a flattened part of the meadow. The flowers were bent in the shape of a heart. At the top of the heart, between the bows, a large piece of paper rested. It was decorated with intricately painted flowers surrounding words in a curling script. It read “Will you be my beau?”

“I- you- for me?” Maggie stammered.

Stella stared pointedly at the raked earth beneath her feet. She nodded.

“Of course! I’d love to be!”

Maggie launched herself at Stella. They tumbled down the hillside, laughing until their sides ached. The flowers danced around them, bouncing in the warming light of a setting sun.