Entry tags:
Encanto ficlet: beautifully imperfect
***
Title: beautifully imperfect
Author:![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
kat_lair / Mistress Kat
Fandom: Encanto (2021)
Characters: Isabela Madrigal, Mirabel Madrigal
Tags: Ficlet, Gardens & Gardening, Flowers, Vignette, Sisters
Rating: G
Word count: 576
Disclaimer: Not mine, only playing
Summary: The soil is dark and damp under her hands, dirt clinging to skin in smears and Isabela knows that no matter how thoroughly she’ll wash herself later, there will be black bands of earth under her fingernails for days to come.
Author notes: Written foralexseanchai as a ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
fandomtrees gift
beautifully imperfect on AO3
The soil is dark and damp under her hands, dirt clinging to skin in smears and Isabela knows that no matter how thoroughly she’ll wash herself later, there will be black bands of earth under her fingernails for days to come.
She loves it. Loves how there’ll be a new layer on top before the first one finally wears off.
The sun is not yet high, but day is already warming up and Isabela can feel the sweat gather at the back of her neck, between her breasts. In two more hours, she’ll be itchy all over, pining for a bath.
She loves that too.
“You look happy.” Mirabel is standing beside her, casting a momentary shade. She’s holding a tray of tomato seedlings, finally big enough for planting.
“I look like I feel,” Isabela says and takes the tray off her sister. They smile at each other, the happiness bouncing back and forth between them like rays of light from mirror to mirror, and before she knows it there are yellow and orange Peruvian lilies all around them, bright and cheery and…
“Good thing these aren’t…” Isabela doesn’t say ‘real’ because the flowers are real. She could pick one in her hand, smell its scent, feel the soft velvet of the petals. She could tuck it into her hair and feel the way the stem will curve behind her ear. They are real but they are not… “permanent.”
“Oh? How come?” Mirabel’s tone is openly curious, and Isabela loves that too; how they’re no longer avoiding the topic of gifts, the peculiarities of their powers. How when Mirabel drops to her knees next to her and starts digging into the earth as well, there’s no awkwardness, nothing but contentment in a shared task.
“This species is actually super invasive,” Isabela explains, picking up one of the flowers like she’d imagined and tucking it, not into her own hair, but into Mirabel’s, the stem snacking into her curls with ease. “It would take over the whole garden. And then…”
“No tomatoes?” Mirabel asks, gently easing out first of the seedlings from its slot.
“No tomatoes,” Isabela confirms, grinning. “No peppers, no beans, no squash, no…”
“I get it, I get it,” Mirabel laughs. “No more mama’s stews.”
They both sigh wistfully.
Isabela looks at the flowers she made a while longer – they really are pretty, like little suns – and then touches the nearest one with a tip of her finger. Thank you, she thinks, see you soon. One by one the flowers dissolve, leaving behind a fine sparkling mist that shimmers in the air for a second before it too vanishes, until the flower behind Mirabel’s ear is the only one left. It too will disappear before the day is over but for now it’s fine where it is.
“Pass me a baby tomato,” Isabela says.
Giggling at her choice of words Mirabel posits a seedling into her cupped hands. Uncaring of how silly she sounds Isabela coos at it as she eases it into a waiting hole, gathering up the loose earth and patting it into place. “There you go,” she says, “all snug and safe.”
The seedling droops a little but it’s nothing some water and fertilizer won’t fix. Gently, Isabela strokes the tiny leaves, the lopsided bend of the central stem. Maybe it’s a sign and this one will grow tomatoes in funny shapes, all fused together and beautifully imperfect.
She can’t wait.
***
Title: beautifully imperfect
Author:
kat_lair / Mistress KatFandom: Encanto (2021)
Characters: Isabela Madrigal, Mirabel Madrigal
Tags: Ficlet, Gardens & Gardening, Flowers, Vignette, Sisters
Rating: G
Word count: 576
Disclaimer: Not mine, only playing
Summary: The soil is dark and damp under her hands, dirt clinging to skin in smears and Isabela knows that no matter how thoroughly she’ll wash herself later, there will be black bands of earth under her fingernails for days to come.
Author notes: Written for
alexseanchai as a fandomtrees giftbeautifully imperfect on AO3
The soil is dark and damp under her hands, dirt clinging to skin in smears and Isabela knows that no matter how thoroughly she’ll wash herself later, there will be black bands of earth under her fingernails for days to come.
She loves it. Loves how there’ll be a new layer on top before the first one finally wears off.
The sun is not yet high, but day is already warming up and Isabela can feel the sweat gather at the back of her neck, between her breasts. In two more hours, she’ll be itchy all over, pining for a bath.
She loves that too.
“You look happy.” Mirabel is standing beside her, casting a momentary shade. She’s holding a tray of tomato seedlings, finally big enough for planting.
“I look like I feel,” Isabela says and takes the tray off her sister. They smile at each other, the happiness bouncing back and forth between them like rays of light from mirror to mirror, and before she knows it there are yellow and orange Peruvian lilies all around them, bright and cheery and…
“Good thing these aren’t…” Isabela doesn’t say ‘real’ because the flowers are real. She could pick one in her hand, smell its scent, feel the soft velvet of the petals. She could tuck it into her hair and feel the way the stem will curve behind her ear. They are real but they are not… “permanent.”
“Oh? How come?” Mirabel’s tone is openly curious, and Isabela loves that too; how they’re no longer avoiding the topic of gifts, the peculiarities of their powers. How when Mirabel drops to her knees next to her and starts digging into the earth as well, there’s no awkwardness, nothing but contentment in a shared task.
“This species is actually super invasive,” Isabela explains, picking up one of the flowers like she’d imagined and tucking it, not into her own hair, but into Mirabel’s, the stem snacking into her curls with ease. “It would take over the whole garden. And then…”
“No tomatoes?” Mirabel asks, gently easing out first of the seedlings from its slot.
“No tomatoes,” Isabela confirms, grinning. “No peppers, no beans, no squash, no…”
“I get it, I get it,” Mirabel laughs. “No more mama’s stews.”
They both sigh wistfully.
Isabela looks at the flowers she made a while longer – they really are pretty, like little suns – and then touches the nearest one with a tip of her finger. Thank you, she thinks, see you soon. One by one the flowers dissolve, leaving behind a fine sparkling mist that shimmers in the air for a second before it too vanishes, until the flower behind Mirabel’s ear is the only one left. It too will disappear before the day is over but for now it’s fine where it is.
“Pass me a baby tomato,” Isabela says.
Giggling at her choice of words Mirabel posits a seedling into her cupped hands. Uncaring of how silly she sounds Isabela coos at it as she eases it into a waiting hole, gathering up the loose earth and patting it into place. “There you go,” she says, “all snug and safe.”
The seedling droops a little but it’s nothing some water and fertilizer won’t fix. Gently, Isabela strokes the tiny leaves, the lopsided bend of the central stem. Maybe it’s a sign and this one will grow tomatoes in funny shapes, all fused together and beautifully imperfect.
She can’t wait.
***
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