#prompt: flowers

[woellow]

[thisapplepielife]

Written for a @astrangersummer.

What You Need For Today

Week #3 Prompt: Flowers | Word Count: 1400 | Rating: T | POV: Lucas | Pairings: Lucas/Max | Characters: Lucas, Dustin, Steve, Erica, Max | CW: Language | Tags: Post S4, Recovering, Buying Flowers, Dustin Has Opinions (Doesn't He Always), Hospital Visits, Always the Goddamn Babysitter Steve (But He Wouldn't Have It Any Other Way)

Looking through the glass door of the cooler, Dustin at his side, Lucas checks out all his options. They all kind of look the same to him, to be honest. Different colors aside, they are just flowers wrapped in paper or arranged in vases. 

He can't stand here forever, so he opens the door and reaches for the nearest bouquet, one wrapped in a pale blue.

"That looks like it's for a new baby! She didn't have a baby!" Dustin snaps, shoving him out of the way. Lucas moves away from the door, willingly. He isn't sure what he should pick, doesn't have the brain power left to decide, so any help, even if it's just Dustin steamrolling him, will be better than nothing.

Dustin is rifling through the options, touching them all far too rough, and Lucas doesn't want to be associated with this at all. The florist isn't looking, isn't paying any attention to either of them, but Lucas is not in the mood to be yelled at. Not today.

The place has had a steady stream of customers, in and out, and he assumes that's because so many people are still hurt, still grieving, after the town was ripped to shreds. And those who stayed need to do something, anything, to feel like they're helping. And buying flowers, that's normal, a relic remaining from before.

He understands that, deeply.

Dustin is still making a spectacle of choosing, so Lucas looks over his shoulder, and sees Erica sitting on the bench by the door of the shop, feet scuffing against the tile of the floor, ever so slightly. Uncharacteristically quiet. The way she's been since, well, since. He wishes she'd get up and come over and have an opinion just as strong as Dustin's.

Embarrass him, shame him, anything.

But she doesn't.

"You need to get these," Dustin finally declares, picking up a huge bundle of red roses.

"I can't afford those," Lucas hisses, because while he doesn't know the price, he knows they are damn well out of his price range. His allowance is good, but it's not that good.

"Can you put a price on love?" Dustin asks, like it's that simple.

Lucas takes the flowers from him, and puts them back, "Not those. Someday. But not today."

Dustin rolls his eyes, "Fine. Be a dumbass. See if I care."

And Lucas just stares through the glass, again. Still unsure. 

He isn't sure how long he's stood there, mulling, unable to choose, when he hears from behind them, "What are you little dickheads doing here?" 

Oh, thank god. Steve. 

Maybe he can rein in Dustin, or at the very least, distract him.

"What are you doing here?" Dustin crows, like he's caught Steve doing something he shouldn't be. 

"None of your business, you little twerp. And I asked you first," Steve says, and Dustin is getting wound up, Lucas can see it.

"Help me pick flowers for Max," Lucas says in a rush, cutting Dustin off before he has the chance to derail this opportunity.

"Well, you can't go wrong with red roses," Steve says, and Dustin throws his hands up in an 'I told you so' motion. 

That's not enough for Dustin, it never is, he has to rub salt in the wound, given an opportunity, so Dustin adds, "I told you so."

"I know, I know," Lucas says, conceding, "but I don't think that's, uh, exactly, right," Lucas says, "for the…occasion."

And Steve nods, like he's understanding what Lucas is laying down.

"Of course, you're totally right," Steve agrees, arm draped over his shoulders as he's standing next to him, also looking, while Dustin prances around impatiently. 

Lucas is leaning towards the yellow bouquet. It's pretty, and bright, and would really liven up Max's hospital room. Even if she can't see it. Even if she'll never know it's there.

When he brings her red roses, he wants her to know it.

"How about the yellow?" Steve asks, finger pushed against the glass, pointing at the arrangement that Lucas was contemplating.

"That's what I was thinking," Lucas admits, happy to have confirmation that it's a good pick.

"Max will love them," Steve says, and reaches in and plucks them out of the cooler, handing them to Lucas, then demands, "Henderson, go get him a blank get well soon card from the counter."

Dustin grumbles about it, but blunders away.

Once he's gone, Steve's voice is low, "You got enough, Sinclair? If not, I can loan you some cash."

It's nice. Steve is really Dustin's friend. Or even Erica's, in a weird way. But he still shows up when he's needed, and it hasn't gone unnoticed. 

"Thanks, Steve. But I think I do."

And Steve just nods, turning back towards the cooler, reaching in and grabbing a big bundle of the red roses.

Dustin reappears, and they both stare at Steve.

Steve looks back at them, "What are you little shitheads looking at? It's a classic, and I like what I like. You don't mess with what works."

"And red roses? They work?" Lucas asks.

"I told you that, asshole," Dustin says, adding his two cents, yet again. 

"For some occasions they definitely do, but these yellow ones? That's what you need for today," Steve reassures, and Lucas puffs out his chest, feeling happier, more confident about his decision. 

They both pay, and on the way out, Steve stops in front of Erica and pulls one of the roses out of the bouquet in his hand, holding it out for her to take. She rolls her eyes, but gives him a smile, and it's one of the few Lucas has seen her offer up in days, weeks.

Erica takes the rose, and Steve lowers his hand over her head, like he's going to touch her hair. Lucas wouldn't recommend it, but she takes care of herself, like always.

"Watch it, nerd," she says, batting his hand away, and Steve stops short of touching her, but he's made her happy. Lucas can tell, and he wishes he'd have thought of it first. Maybe it wouldn't have been the same, coming from him, her brother. Maybe it had to come from Steve Harrington, the ringleader of her beloved Scoops Troop.

"Good thing you showed up, we need a ride home," Dustin demands, not asking, never asking. 

"Maybe I have other places to be, Henderson. You ever think of that?" Steve snarks at him, holding up the roses, but he still unlocks his car, letting them all inside. Erica puts on her seatbelt beside him in the backseat, clutching the stem of the rose in her hands, looking out the window.

Lucas wonders when, if, things will ever go back to normal.

Dustin and Steve banter in the front seat, lobbing barbs back and forth that are familiar and normal, so Lucas supposes that's a start, at least.

Later that afternoon, Erica standing at his back, Lucas pauses in the doorway of the hospital room, listening to the steady beeps of all the machines keeping Max alive. The vase of yellow flowers in one hand, a new Stephen King book in the other. This time, he checked out Skeleton Crew from the library. It's a short story collection, and he likes the idea of having something new, something fresh, to read to her everyday during visiting hours. 

A new story for a new day.

She's still asleep, body still broken and trying to mend, and it squeezes at his heart. He doesn't know when they'll let her try to wake up. How long it might be, even if it has already felt like forever. Her hair is braided to the side, bold red against the white pillow, and that means El must have been here earlier. 

The vinyl creaks as Erica sits down on the couch behind him. She's been a near constant presence at his side since the Creel house. She goes where he goes, and he honestly has no complaints.

He places the flowers on Max's end table, and scoots the chair up as close to her bed as he can get it. Once he's situated, he cracks open the book, smoothing his hands over the borrowed pages, holding it in his lap, as he begins to read.

"This is what happened. On the night that the worst heat wave in northern New England history finally broke..."

If you want to write your own, or see more entries for this challenge, pop on over to @astrangersummer and follow along with the fun! 🌞

Notes: The end book snippet is from The Mist, the first entry in Skeleton Crew.

[abyss-presence]

Note: this is from the perspective of my own cult (like in-game cult), so it will include the traits that the characters got in my game, my followers and ect ect; the yellow cat is called Nael and uses he/they pronouns; 3rd person pov; swears included

@aniflowers

Broken bones and blooming flowers

Another morning, another day. The cult runs like a broken clock: sometimes the handles don't turn and get stuck in place, sometimes they go too fast and mess up the time. But the main point is, it's working.

This time around, Lamb returned early in the morning, before everyone woke up. At the sermon they announced this day to be a holiday, so everyone got a chance to rest from the relentless work they do around the base, in the glory of the Lamb.

Typically, the Leader of the flock would stay put for a couple of days, taking care of their place and interacting with their followers, but today was different. When their usual routine after giving a sermon was done, they suddenly left again, whether to play knucklebones at their dad's house or to crusade again remains unknown.

Leshy watches them leave in silence, slightly confused by this new development, but it was not his place to worry about such unnecessary things. So he shrugs it off and goes over to the farm to tend to the crops. He's been doing this ever since he got indoctrinated into the cult. However...

"Hey, you're Leshy, right? Whatcha up to?" Oh, there he goes again, that yellow cat. What was their name again? Nael, was it? A "gift from God"... Huh. How pathetic.

The Lamb dares to make a mockery out of him by bringing this... this mockery of a follower to their cult! Oh that was a crime, a crime specifically directed at Leshy! A "gift from God"... How dare they!

"...Leshy?" Oh right. The cat's still there.

"...I'm just tending to the farm."

"Ah, I see, I see. You do seem to like working in this field huh..." Leshy could hear the sound of Nael's robe flattering with the gentle breeze, and smell the faint hint of blood on them. How badly this stupid cat irritated him, yet how much he desired their company...

He couldn't help himself. Come on, the first thing Nael did upon his indoctrination was start a fight with Narinder, how could he not at the very least admire them? Moreover, so far Nael is the only one who hasn't been treating Leshy like some kind of suspicious traitor. Not that Leshy isn't suspicious as hell, and not that he doesn't think that Nael is naive and stupid for trusting him so easily, but it's the thought that counts, right?

While Leshy was spacing out again, something caught his attention:

Aside from the main farm where Lamb planted crops that went into the cult's food later, there was also a smaller one, all consisting of Camellia flowers. They've been ready for harvest for about a month or two now, yet the Leader never harvested them... and they weren't there for the sake of decoration either, because there were several potted plants around the base already. Leshy would know, there is like a thousand of flowery scents around this wretched hell hole. And so, despite himself, Leshy interrupts whatever it is Nael was talking about (he wasn't listening anyway) and instead asks:

"What are the flowers for?"

"And then they– Oh, huh? The flowers?" Nael looks around before spotting the farm that Leshy was referring to. "Oh these ones? Leader grows them in case we run out of medicine to cure the sick with."

"Cure...? Are they... they're Camellia flowers, right? I can feel their scent even from here."

"Oh yeah, they are! Man, you got a pretty sharp nose, eh? Although I don't really... you know, see a nose on you?"

The only thought that ran through Leshy's mind in that moment was a single word: "Stupid." Sure, maybe he was a bit mean, but at least he didn't say it out loud!

"You're dumb." Oh well, nevermind then.

"Haha, maybe I am! Still, what do you smell with? I'm not exactly familiar with the anatomy of a bush." Nael reached out his hands, placing them on Leshy's surprisingly fuzzy cheeks and feeling his face with zero shame. Leshy was about to burst from irritation and chomp this sopping wet cat to death, until he realized something.

From what he heard from the Lamb, Nael was one of the hot tempered butch, hence the constant fighting with Narinder. But he literally called them dumb – and yet they didn't react negatively at all... it even seemed like they were trying to flatter him? Why?!

"Hands off," Leshy slapped their furry paws away from his face, subtly readjusting his bandage, "I don't need– Did you just call me a bush?!"

Nael erupted with laughter once the realization hit Leshy. That was exactly the response they were hoping for, and it was fantastic! He had to take a moment to calm down and get himself together, all the while Leshy was repeatedly bonking him on the head with his plush arms.

"Have you never seen a worm before you stupid cat?!" Leshy looked like a pouty little kid despite probabaly being centuries old. And maybe at heart he was. Just a pouty little child who wanted love and attention. But he was grown up now, and although no longer a God, he was still a man of pride.

"I have! You just don't look like one!" Nael was struggling to breathe from how hard he was laughing, which earned him another bonk on the head. "You look like a mix of a bush and a worm. A... borm! Or a wush!"

"You–! You are an ignorant and infuriating mortal piece of scum! Don't you dare to call me either of those stupid names!"

"But we had a worm in the cult before and they looked nothing like you! You only look similar to the other bushes from Darkwood!" Nael was still quite hysterical after his laughing fit, and he was clearly struggling trying not to laugh again, barely holding himself together.

"THAT'S BECAUSE THEY'RE ALSO WORMS YOU UNCULTURED FUCK." All the sudden yelling caught others' attention, making them turn towards these two. Of course, Leshy couldn't exactly see that they were staring him down, but oh how well he could feel the judgemental stares burning into his body and it pissed him the fuck off. So his natural response? Cause chaos. And, in this situation, that meant beating the shit out of this yellow motherfucker.

Before Leshy could process what he was doing, his hands were already wrapped around the cat's neck, their claws in turn scratching at his back.

This was a first time experience for Nael too, usually Leader broke up any fight he started before anything real could happen, but now they're not here... and it is already getting bad. Nael was slowly starting to see stars in his vision as more and more oxygen left his body. But he kept on persisting, kept on trying to break free from Leshy's deadly grip.

"Stop it this instance you two!" One of Lamb's disciples chimed in, breaking up the fight and butting themselves in between the two to act as a barrier. "What has gotten into you, Nael? This is the sixth time this week that you started a fight! And now you're targeting Leshy too? Leader will have to put you in prison if you keep behaving this recklessly." Nael was smiling while being scolded by the spider, his uneven breathing getting interrupted by an occasional cough or two. Leshy didn't understand... why was the cat just accepting the blame like this? Technically he was the one who attacked first, so why were they allowing him to get out of responsibility? This Nael guy must be stupid, just like Leshy thought. Of course he is, Leshy is never wrong about people!

Yet still he couldn't help but become more and more curious of the strange yellow cat. He wanted to know more.

[optimismxmagicism]

lilac : what was your muse’s childhood like ? how has their upbringing affected them as they’ve aged ?

Uh, kindly put it was. Bad. Really really bad. He was abandoned as an infant. He was on the streets for as long as he could remember, begging for food, eating scraps and drinking dirty water. His survival hinged on if he and his sister could find food to eat, and later on if she could make enough coin dancing on the streets. While this is now long in the past for him, it colors every part of his daily life.

It affected him not only mentally, but physically as well. Being badly underfed since he was born, he never was able to grow up strong. He’s incredibly small and physically delicate for a boy his age, even though he started eating better when he entered his teens.

Mentally, he struggles with food and managing his finances. He likes to indulge himself with delicious foods and buy strange items simply because he finally has the chance to do so. Besides that, he sometimes has kind of this.. toxic positivity about him. Despite the horrifying circumstances he grew up in, he describes it as it being “not all bad”. He focuses on the good things that he thinks came from growing up on the streets, such as meeting Gerik and everyone else. He completely mentally shuts himself off from the trauma he experiences, ignoring it and focusing only on the positives. While this may sound fine on the surface, it caused him to become somewhat emotionally stunted. He’s unable to process emotions such as grief or sadness properly because he just forces himself to smile again.

[lotus-pear]

horrendously late entry for @luneariann’s dtiys!! congrats on one million ely i’m so proud of you <3

[justaz]

arthur notices merlin and lancelot’s chemistry in s1 and then merlin and gwaine’s chemistry in s3 and comes to the conclusion that merlin likes men with long hair. in completely unrelated news, arthur thinks he might look good with long hair and decides to grow it out

[mielkae]

Mcyt as Writing Prompts pt. 5

[emacrow]

First, It was Barb was doing night checks on wayne manor cameras surveillance pt 2

Previous post pt 1

She was in a bit of awe when she saw the newest very rare exotic flower Alfred got bloom under the light of the full moon, revealing beautiful crystallized like petals blossom, only for her widening eyes to take noticed of a tiny little pixie like child to pop his little head out of the center of the flower.

His hair was unnatural white fluff like a dandelion in her opinion, eyes glowing an otherworldly green, freckles that sparkle like the stars themselves, ears a bit long and pointy, wearing a odd clothing with a needles strapped to his back, that she could barely catch in camera, the static buzzing sound from her cameras was making it a bit difficult to hear what sound the tiny little fairy boy made as he floated above zooming around the garden a bit like he was excited.

It made barb's inner child squeals, screaming, flipping her tiny princess table at the possibly of Nederland being possible.

Curious little bug, floating around like the fairies in Disney like except of the Glow pixie dust like she seen on the movies, he left a trail of blueish green light that faded away rather quickly with the way he was flying into the slightly opened kitchen's window...

Wait a goddamm minutes..

Barb immediately switch cameras to the kitchen, looking around, only to see it went through the hallway already, switching cameras again, checking the living room, the hallways, only to catch a glimpse of trail glow zooming around.

Crap crap. OK, no need to panic Barb. What do curious pixie like fairies out in the human world.. bring the season right?!, play with children like that Bell fairy did? Finds and take lost things and secretly repair lost things?..! Fairies are weak without pixie dust, they don't live long without it, each fairies has a different part of the seasons, and if you don't believe in them then they immediately die and that cause imbalance in the world without their influence unless you truly believe in fairies to bring back one fairy.(she went through a whole fairy obsession phase as a kid, she still mourns the lost of the create your fairy open world game)

The fairy must've Found a new type of pixie dust to fly without wings if she could recall that one sequel with the new pixie dusts colors thing..?

It was like a game of Where Waldo except where the little mythical fairy boy that couldn't possibly- no no barb don't think about the taboo words, if you think about it and this poor mythical being dies due to your words then the guilt will haunt you Forever.

3 hours in the catch the glimpse of the fairy boy, flying back at to his little flower holding a tiny cube of sugar, a shiny tiny object that she can't get a clear of, and a plump blueberry the size of his little hesr as he lands in the petals that were closing around him. Crystallized back close as if to guard this little fairy being with its own life.

Right when the full moon glimpse was gone out of the sight of the garden from the sky when the smog cloud from the city covering once more.. Barb is writing that down in her notes..

[gomzdrawfr]

drew ya prompt again! @call-of-duty-incorrect-quotes

original post roight here

cw: SPIDERS

[missholoska]

having to watch your mother flirt with a smiley trashbag...

truly, this is the worst possible ending.

(soriel week 2024 day 2: flower 🌻)

[wigglebox]

Destiel Hot Summer - Floral 🌷

[literaryvein-reblogs]

Writing Reference: Roses

Reigning over the flower garden, roses are coveted for their exquisite blooms, tantalizing perfume, and long flowering season.

TYPES OF ROSES

Climbing roses - the thick rigid canes of climbing roses allow for a beautiful show of blossoms on a wall, trellis, or arbor; may be trained on wires fixed to a pergola or series of arches to provide a tunnel of flowers, foliage, and scent in a traditional garden design

Groundcover roses - sometimes called landscape roses, these were developed to be easy to care for and useful for planting in mass

Modern roses - this group, developed after 1867, includes the hybrid tea, floribunda, grandiflora, miniature, and English roses

Old garden roses - sometimes called heritage roses, this group includes gallica, damask, alba, centifolia, and bourbon

Patio and miniature roses - averaging 12in (30cm) tall, miniature roses are ideal for the front of the flower bed or as a container plant

Rambling roses - an annual display of thick clusters of small flowers on long, slender, and flexible canes make this rose a favorite to many

Shrub roses - many shrub roses result from crossing old and modern roses to develop more hardy and disease-resistant selections; can be trained as standards; you can use them in pots to flank a doorway or as a centerpiece in formal designs

Species roses - can be divided into 4 groups by their place of origin, either Europe, America, the Middle east, or Asia; make excellent hedges with their tough, disease-resistant foliage and early-summer flowers, followed by decorative hips; their thorns also help to deter intruders

NOTES

Roses have been grown for thousands of years and are celebrated for their beautiful, scented blooms and diverse habits.

They suffer from a number of diseases, most notably black spot, which causes the foliage to discolor and drop off.

Source ⚜ More: Writing Notes & References

[cordiallyfuturedwight]

bangtan gif challenge ☆ ↳ a concept that you cannot forget → love yourself: her ☁️

[shimmershy]

Just two siblings back from the dead, hanging out, totally not using this opportunity to torment one another for the rest of time! <3

Chara Week Day 4: Flowers

[Image Description: A digital drawing of Chara and Flowey from Undertale. They're on the Surface, with grass and trees and mountains stretching out behind them. Chara has golden flowers clustered around their left eye and speckled in their hair and on their hands. They're kneeling on the ground and smiling wide, holding Flowey's flower pot in one arm. Their other hand is outstretched in front of them and holding a camera. Flowey has a red bow wrapped around his stem and stickers in the shape of hearts, stars, and smiley faces decorating his pot. He looks annoyed as Chara leans their face in close to his to take a photo. /End ID]

[ecstarry]

congrats on the followers loveeee!!!

💌 of reg asking effie and monty to marry james?

Dear Mr. and Mrs. Potter,

I write to you with my heart on my sleeve. I have loved James ever since I've know him, and if I'm honest, I believe I have loved him for longer.

As if a part of my heart knew that his love would find me and I needed to save that space for him. I could swear there was piece that had been dormant, patiently awaiting just for James Potter to claim it.

I'm hopeful that you have witnessed just how earnest my love for your son is. That even if words don't always come easy to me, you can testify to the devotion behind my eyes whenever I'm around James.

While I'm no Seer, I'm utterly convinced that I was meant to love your son. In this life and the next one.

I want to marry James.

I want to be a Potter.

I wish to have your blessing. Your word matters grately to me, Sirius and I could not have dreamed of a better place to call our home.

My promise to you is to continue loving James as honestly as I have. I truly don't think I could ever stop doing so.

He holds my heart, tenderly and delicately in his hands, the same hands you have known and cared for all these years and that I wish to continue doing so as long as we keep breathing.

As you finish this letter, and you lift your heads to what is probably the most nervous version of me you've seen, please say I have your blessing.

With all my love,

-R.A.B.

[thepromptswhisperer]

Flower Prompts

“Did you pick them out yourself?”

Stumble upon a dried flower in their partner’s book/private stuff. (One, that looks vaguely familiar. Is that the one they gave them for their first date?)

Wonder if bringing flowers to the date is too much. 

“I’ve never received any before.”

“What did you do?” “What?” “You only ever give me flowers when you have something to confess. So, shoot. I'm listening.”

Know the other is well versed in the language of flowers, and spend hours trying to pick out the right one for them. 

Put a flower in the other’s hair. 

“What’s not to like about flowers?”

Gift the other flowers they are allergic to.

Only realize this is a date and not just a normal hangout when the other gives them flowers. 

“You spoil me.”

“You need to buy a vase.” “Why? This does perfectly fine.” “For now, sure. But what if I wanted to give you flowers every single day from now on?”

“Let me get this straight: You broke into [name]’s garden to pick some of their award-winning flowers for me? How are you still alive?”

Only realize how meaningful the flowers gifted to them are when the other explains why they picked those specific ones.

“They love me, they love me not,...”

See a vase of flowers at the other’s place and wonder if someone else gave them to them. 

“Flowers make me sad.”

Stare at a vase of flowers, gifted to them by the other just hours/etc. before their argument/breakup. 

Receive a flower bracelet/crown made by the other. 

“Do you give all your dates flowers?”

Place a flower on a casket.

“Did I forget our anniversary (again)?”

Receive gifts from an anonymous admirer. First a vase, then a new flower every day. 

Walk into a room that has flower petals strewn all over the floor.

“They smell almost as good as you do.”

“Don’t read too much into it. It’s just a flower. It doesn’t mean anything.”

Date someone who, contrary to them, does not have even a single plant in their apartment/etc.

They imagined lying in a flower field with their partner/etc. to be more romantic than it truly is.

“For something half dead, flowers sure are expensive.”

Think the other wanted to express something specific to them with their flower choice. Turns out, they simply thought they looked nice. 

“What’s your favorite flower?” “Huh? Why?” “One of these days, somebody might want to surprise you with some.” / ”No reason,” only for them to receive some a few days later.