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#So it’s optimal for growing gardens
rinrinlovee · 2 years
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victorian girl autumn
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theinnerunderrain · 25 days
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Flowers only bloom when the sun comes out [Yan! Prince x Fem! Maid-Reader]
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Warnings: Yandere themes, child neglect, mentions of suggestive behaviors and lustful behaviors, manipulative thoughts, etc.
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Miserable.
Prince Cassian would choose "miserable" as the precise term to depict his fragile existence. Born a prince into a mighty kingdom, his father ruled with an iron fist and unwavering will. Yet, despite his royal lineage, his life felt devoid of meaning, a constant struggle in the shadows of his father's reign. Maybe his father held Cassian accountable, at least in part, for the death of his beloved queen. Perhaps that's why he was abandoned to decay in the queen's once-grand residence, where dust settled like a shroud, paint flaked from the walls, and sinister spiders claimed every corner.
However, the king, perhaps out of lingering kindness or a trace of pity, permitted servants to attend to the prince. Yet, few were inclined to care for a forsaken prince; servants came and went as the boy matured into a young man. Initially, some felt sympathy for him, but they soon departed upon realizing there was no benefit. Others, driven by greed, chipped away at the scant jewelry and valuables left in the building before absconding to sell them in the market. His existence drifted aimlessly, filled with endless hours staring out his window or sipping the bitter tea his younger sister, kind but unaware of his plight, managed to sneak to him.
It all seemed so pointless.
Then, one day, you appeared. A young maid, your smile radiant and your enthusiasm palpable as you embarked on this new job. He couldn't help but feel sorry for you, knowing that your optimism would soon be crushed once you discovered the reality of serving a prince like him, someone you might deem unworthy of your efforts. Every day, he observed you closely, noting your tireless efforts and how your face, though marked by exhaustion from tasks meant for many, retained a composed and bright demeanor.
He found himself admiring your diligent work ethic, transforming his once bitter teatime into a sweeter experience as you mastered the art of brewing it just right. The clothes he wore now carried a scent of softness, feeling gentle against his skin, a stark contrast to the past when they often felt itchy and smelled of sweat. The garden flourished with the flowers you tended to, and his bedroom felt fresh and inviting, as if it were truly lived in. Your presence became a source of comfort for him. He enjoyed your greetings each morning, your smiles making him feel truly alive, reminding him of his own humanity.
He felt a growing desire to be near you, craving the comfort of your presence. He longed to bask in the warmth of your soft smile, to feel the gentle touch of your hand as you helped him dress. He treasured the moments when you enveloped him in warmth on cold, restless nights haunted by memories of his mother. Your gentle fingers combing through his hair brought a soothing calmness to his troubled mind. He delighted in teasing you during work hours, reveling in the sight of your face blushing a deep scarlet as his hands playfully found their way to your waist, causing you to momentarily lose your grip on the dustpan before scolding him.
He likes you.
Well, he didn't just like you. He was consumed by you, obsessed with every thought of you, you, you.
He yearned to be enveloped in your essence, to drown in your intoxicating fragrance, to be devoured whole by you. He craved for your lips to consume his, for your touch to consume his skin, for every part of him to be consumed by you. He was acutely aware that his thoughts about you would be deemed sinful by the church, yet he couldn't help but question God's justice in abandoning him for a crime he didn't commit. Considering your background as a commoner's daughter, burdened with constant toil, he doubted you had any prior experience with men, leading him to wonder if he might be your first.
He hoped you preferred younger men, despite his slight age difference. He vowed to bring you pleasure so intense that it would bring tears to your eyes. With your face flushed in red with his hands tracing over the curve of your body, admiring the plumpness of your swollen breast. The way your supple body would quiver and twitch with every flick of his tongue against your adorable clit, with your soft thighs grappling around his head much like soft pillows.
Ah, perhaps he shouldn't be thinking of such lustful matters.
Anyway, he was acutely aware that as a powerless and forgotten prince, his presence posed a constant danger to himself and those close to him. His older siblings, viewing him as a potential threat to the throne, could easily target him. He contemplated two options: either showing up at the King's castle, pleading with his father to take him back, or fleeing with you to another country. The idea of living as a commoner didn't seem so daunting, considering his current life despite his royal title. Yet, a third, more manipulative thought crept into his mind—perhaps he could exploit his younger sister's naivety to regain entry to the main palace, using her pity as a means to an end.
He believed that in the end, whatever sacrifices were necessary to attain the power to keep you would be worthwhile.
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hyperfixating-rn-brb · 4 months
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I think I'll be forever obsessed with nanny ashtoreth and brother francis. gardening is crowleys thing, so I want to see how that conversation went down. did crowley volunteer to be the nanny? did aziraphale just ask to be a gardener to troll crowley?
brother francis/aziraphale would end up talking to the plants so kindly but ultimately knowingnnothing about gardening besides the fact that plants should grow. then it got better when I pictured nanny at 2 am, smeared with dirt, doing some remedial gardening.
"Angel, I can't keep telling you this, NICE WORDS ARE NOT A SUBSTITUTE FOR OPTIMAL NITROGEN LEVELS IN THE SOIL!"
"oh, but Crowley, that poor orchid was positively shaking by the time you were finished berating it!"
"she knows what she did."
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headspace-hotel · 1 year
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some times i see people talking about the Earth and climate change saying things like "now i know it is difficult to deal with utter hopelessness, terror, and visiting the thoughts of death"
and it's like wow I am so deeply sorry about the suffering. but...concern. Concern. Tell me, am I missing something important? Why do I feel a sense of hope for our planet? Am I a lonely fool? Have I been consumed by naïveté and misguided optimism?
That would be weird. It feels weird. It feels like I would be well suited to despair. My natural temperament is Mortal Terror making my body crushed for a thousand years at the bottom of the deepest trenches of the ocean. I've thought before "I can't live any more. This exceeds the tensile strength of the human spirit."
And then? After irreversible catastrophic failure of the soul, there is...what?
We try to imagine the future where we fight to save our home and it is very painful. The resistance feels so small and the machine of death feels so vast. But something's missing.
Everyone else is missing—the plants, trees, bugs, beasts, and creatures. Hello? Are the other humans seeing this? Nature wants you to know that she is not a princess in a tower. Look! Look at the chaos moving through every cell! Iterating! Adapting! Becoming! Thriving! Watch the pollinators tirelessly at work, observe the mycorrhizal network in the forest floor distributing the rich fruits of decay and photosynthesis for every inhabitant! Pay attention! We belong here too. They feed and shelter us, give us the very air we breathe, and in return we plant and propagate, cull, thin, and burn, shape, trample, till, shepherd and sprout seeds. Our species can look toward the future, to the world of our descendants. We can call every plant and animal by name and teach our children to use and care for them responsibly. We can feel this anger, pain, and grief on behalf of the family of Life, OUR family, and we can love the smallest beetle and the humblest moss.
Look at it! This thing is nothing like me, it does not benefit me, it has no use or purpose for me, but LOOK at it! Look at its intricate structure! Look at the marvelousness of its behaviors and biological functions! Look at its uniqueness throughout the whole universe! Look at it, and see its infinite value!
I saved a baby tree from the scorching hot gravel of a parking lot. I watched it grow and thrive in the hands of its caretaker. Many more followed, trees and herbs and flowers, rescued and carefully placed in cups and old tubs that once held yogurt and sour cream. This is so strange, I thought. They're everywhere, offering themselves for free, and no one thinks to take them. Everyone thinks transplanting a tree is hard and that nothing grows on the edge of the pavement but weeds. But it's so easy??? This is weird. Plant Nurseries Hate Her: Get Free Plants With This One Weird Trick.
I protected an old barren garden patch where nothing had thrived from being mowed and weed-whacked, and transplanted little plants that I found. I marveled at the bees that came. Chicory bloomed, then asters and goldenrod. I shed actual tears over a spicebush swallowtail. I ordered some milkweed from the internet, and the monarchs came for them. Less then twenty-five bucks for a divine experience like this. Wow, everyone else really needs to know!
I started volunteering at a nature center, and was allowed to transplant flowers where they sprouted in inopportune locations. I collected tons of seeds all fall and winter long.
There is much, much more, all of it bigger than I ever would have imagined. But this spring there were more birds, in number and in species, than I'd ever seen in my back yard before. Chickadees, swallows, finches, nuthatches, jays, cardinals, warblers, sparrows, woodpeckers of every kind...I remembered just a couple years prior when all I ever saw out there was a couple grackles or starlings or robins, with the occasional sparrow. Those birds come in flocks rather than couples now. And then the bumblebee arrived. An American bumblebee, endangered now, a queen. For a few days she was always out there, would fly out and buzz around me when I came out to tend to my now-innumerable plants. It's nesting time for them. She chose this place I was creating. She saw that this place would take care of her.
A week ago, I discovered wild strawberries growing in my Mamaw's driveway. I found lyreleaf sage growing beside a gravel road. I've become a master of transplanting; I took several of each home. Yesterday, I saw a tiny, metallic blue bee, an Osmia mason bee. Today, I saw an oriole and a strange, very fancy fly. I see something new almost every day. Every day I am being irreversibly changed as a person. How did I ever fail to see how much this matters?
I said I feel hope...do I feel it? I don't think it's a feeling, I think it's a practice. It's being part of our communities and our ecosystems. Nature's interconnectedness is both reality and example: to survive, we take care of one another. And when one member of the community helps another thrive, it creates a cascade that increases the thriving of all. Just by existing, you help us all survive.
You can only take care of so many plants before you have to give some away. You can only hold so much knowledge before you have to give it away. I gave seeds to a dozen different flowers to my next-door neighbor and she invited me inside and wouldn't let me leave without food, and we talked about plants and trees. A family friend lets me have goats' milk and heirloom vegetables in exchange for help around the farm, and I listen to him talk about trees, bugs, and soil and learn so much I feel like I'm about to explode from knowledge.
Being a caretaker is unavoidably a community-oriented, community-forming thing. You can't grow plants all by yourself. Your garden will make too many tomatoes. Share them. Your milkweed will make hundreds and hundreds of seeds. Spread them. Wild blackberries invite you to take and eat. Your lonely retired neighbor invites you to talk and keep her company. Once you grow delicious fruits or little oak trees, you always have a reason to greet someone and say, "Look, it is a gift!"
We're not alone. We are not separate. We take care of each other. Every species, every individual. A single action of caretaking creates a cascade effect of thriving. A single unapologetic love for a creature creates a blossom of curiosity and fascination in everyone surrounding. It's so powerful.
As my chemical romance says "I am not afraid to keep on living"
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hollyhomburg · 6 months
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Before I Leave You (Pt.63)
(Omegaverse au, Mafia au, Bts x Reader)
Summary: you never thought that just cuddling with Hobi on a cold day could lead to this; his pants off and you begging "Daisy please-"
Tags: fluff, a little hurt but mostly just comfort, first times, soft cuddle sex, unintentional mutual somnophilia, knotting, scenting, under clarified limits, a touch of slick kink, breeding kink, a touch of size kink (you know the good stuff), unrealistic amounts of cum, implied belly bulge, implied feral sex, small triggers after sex, small references to past abusive relationships, hole check's, knot checks, dom/sub undertones to later scenes but not in the main smut,
W/c: 14.2k
A/n: thank you guys for being patient for this next chapter :) it's one of my favorites so please give it lots of love! i know we've all been waiting for hobi's confession and the completion of their arc, did i do it justice? Also i'm sorry that i have a pathological need to end every single chapter with a cliffhanger lol, this one is no different!
Previous part ~ Masterlist
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(5 years ago. Before Yoongi. Before everyone.)
Jung Hoseok cleans his arms in a bathroom. He is 21 years old, there is lipstick on his fingers, and nothing bad has happened to him yet.
Bad is all relative of course. Some would call growing up in a rich area while living in a one-bedroom apartment bad. Some people would call not really knowing your parents because they work late nights bad. Some would even say that the fact that they won’t pay for Hoseok’s college education a fucking tragedy.
But between you and me and Hoseok; other people wouldn't know a fucking tragedy if it hit them in the fucking face. Talking to some people about your suffering is like trying to make a toddler shoot the broad side of a god damn barn with a double barrel shotgun. Or like those little lemon slices they put in the water at olive garden-
It's fucking useless. And you're more likely to be sent to the hospital than get some actual fucking results. Weather it's because of food poisoning, a bullet wound, or because some idiot you trusted thinks you're a god damn suicide risk.
See right? Talking about your problems is fucking useless.
But he’s always been able to focus on the brighter side of things. It's a blessing and a curse because optimism always lies to you. It's easier to be happy than it is to be upset, at least for Hoseok at this moment.
At least he was an optimist until they ruined him a little. After this year, finding the silver will take effort.
The tiles beneath his feet are cold to the touch. He knows that there’s a button somewhere to turn on the heated flooring but he just can’t find it. Hidden and unfamiliar as he is with this den. So different from his own little dormitory halfway across the city.
This fancy three-bedroom apartment is one that he will move into in precisely 4 months once they make it official, he’ll live here for exactly 2 years 3 months, and 8 days before being kicked out and moving into the pack's den. It’s exactly 2 years to the date that he meets Min Yoongi in the record store.
But nothing bad has happened to him yet. Today he is just himself, No idea of what's about to befall him and that It won't just be bad.
This apartment is upscale, with its wainscotting and long gauzy curtains that barely keep out the sound of the city streets 5 stories below and the lightly warm June morning. He’s not quite sure who pays for this one yet. Hasn’t had the chance to ask, he's only been seeing this pack for 2 months. This Hoseok is shyer than the one you know. Timid and unsure of where he should place his dulled claws.
It's all awfully mysterious. The question of "What do your parents do?" and the answer pressed to a raised finger. The truth lingering between lipstick and manicure on a single giggled breath.
"That's a secret"
He casts a glance around the bathroom, the marble counters, the plush hand towels, and even the designer soap is forghein to him.
Rich people.
It's one part tired jealousy and one part true distaste. Even if Hoseok had all the money in the world he wouldn't waste it on painting a bathroom white or powdery Dior soap. Why not blue or orange or green or pink?
(Oh Hobi. The pack’s bathroom will be green one day, with delicate tiles in the shade of the lightest moss. Not yellow-toned and not blue. he's going to help yoongi pick it out, He just doesn’t know it yet).
Their apartment is just a few blocks from the college that he attends, a freshman but not for much longer. A freshman, along with the pack's youngest. Her on the business track and him in a weed-out art department. The prerequisite humanities course is their shared battleground.
Out of everything in this story, this is the only true coincidence.
This version of Hoseok likes omegas with a bit of a dark side. The ones that are a bit bitchy, a bit entitled and alot pretty. The ones that hone their eyeliner to a vicious edge, or the male ones that act a little bit more like alphas and disobey gender norms. That’s what drew his eye to this pack's youngest in their hum 1 class.
He got a little melty when her eyes turned less “I’ll kill you if you even sniff in my direction” and more “A pretty alpha like you has to have a pack right?”
Hoseok had stuttered when he’d said that No- he didn’t.
Before long he’ll drop out because he just can’t cut it at art school. Just can’t spend nights with fingers black from charcoal, working on things that will one day be thrown in the garbage because he’ll have a pack to attend to. Good alpha that he is.
(It will be years before he realizes that it wasn't art school just mediums. He’s meant to use flowers to make things instead.)
They’re not his pack yet, not yet. not yet. Not Yet- But there is a gift waiting for him downstairs. A fancy set of pastels and paints. It’s the start of courting even though he’s supposed to be the one buying them gifts. He’s the penniless college student they’re the ones with the nice apartment. He’s the one with the knot, and they’re all omegas. It’s a give-and-take.
Yet somehow even though he’ll be the only alpha he knows he won’t be the pack alpha.
He cleans the lipstick from his fingers. Bright red. He knows he has it in other places too, down below the tugged low hemline of his pants pulled on after they were done fucking.
The last thing he wants to be is like the other alphas in the fraternities on campus, the ones that holler at all the omegas shit like “I can taste your slick from here baby,” and “want to study anatomy together? I’m a hands-on learner” Hobi dreads the idea that he might be like that. Even a little bit. Even unintentionally.
But still, their words from earlier ring in his ears.
“They haven’t been dating for that long, you can’t expect us to be comfortable all the time with you in our nest, it's a really intimate thing for us."
Hobi feels like one of those phraternity alphas when it makes him uncomfortable.
It’s reasonable that they wanted to give his knot a ride and try him out before they make it official. One alpha and four omegas, these odds are every alpha’s wet dream. He knows his performance was Oscar-worthy.
It had been nice to be in a nest for just a little bit, Hoseok’s biology wants it, the tense knot between his shoulders all loose.
Hoseok has never been loved by someone who wanted to talk to him every day, it will be easy for them to reduce his focus to their beck and call.
There's 4 different colors of lipstick on his cock. Four different shades from four different women. His new packmates get to the carrot part of the carrot and stick arrangement.
In the future, he’ll deny that he ever thought of any of these women as that- as packmates. He'll say it was only ever Namjoon’s pack that he wanted in this way. He’ll say it never compared and it didn’t. Except for these first few months. These first few days.
Memories lie to us all the time; memory is the best secret keeper.
He watches one of his packmates sit on the edge of the nest, she wears the lipstick prints better than he does. Lining the inside of her thighs, her own lips smudged.
Hoseok doesn’t let the smile fall from his lips and she smiles back. She tugs her long hair free of a bun that she’d put it up in so that she didn’t get slick in it. It will be a few more months until she cuts it above her collarbones. Blunt to a brutal edge.
Hoseok’s sweatshirt is on the edge of the nest, and Hoseok watches as she brings it to her nose, breathing in deep. Hoseok is just about to say that she can wear it when she throws it onto a nearby ottoman. Not onto the floor thankfully. No omega has ever worn his sweatshirt before. Hoseok tries not to let the rejection of his scent sting.
She looks at the lipstick on Hoseok, there’s a bit on his lip. “Come here.” She asks, parting her legs.
Hoseok is a good alpha and goes.
~-~
(Now, You and Hobi)
When Hobi wakes it's because the pack is moving around the room, bickering, and struggling to be quiet, bickering a little.
Their low hum drum voices as they talk about “Jungkookie? where did you put my mittens?” and ”I sort of love that you still wear mittens, babe.” Yoongi’s deep rumble, “Did Jimin buy those for you too?” All teasing and understanding. Because if anyone knows how Tae likes to be teased, Yoongi does.
Tae’s fond little croon is so melodic it makes Hobi sigh, ears straining to hear more of it. “Yes, he did. Got pup matching ones too.”
Pup. that’s you. Curled in the center of the nest under Hobi's elbows. dozing but unable to lift your head from where it's pillowed. You’re sure that Yoongi knows you’re kind of awake or at least listening in because Yoongi knows everything.
You’re sure that as he looks down at you and Hobi tangled together, he’s doing it with a smirk. You don’t need to open your eyes and double-check.
The temperature of the nest is balmy, overly warm in the way that it gets when it’s cold outside and the nesting is hitting so particularly good that Hobi won’t even think of moving. (The way it feels when you come out of the cold and into the waiting arms of someone you love) Hobi nuzzles into the warmth in front of him.
A small storm brews outside. The snow has been falling since midday. Just a little here and there. But Tae loves how it looks with all the Christmas lights. There aren’t quite enough up yet but the holiday season is close.
But the snow won't last, soon it won’t be falling at all. It will all melt off by tonight, the afternoon is supposed to be sunny. Can sun showers happen with snow?
"Do you think we could walk all the way to the gym, it's not all that far! only like 10 miles. We could run it in like an hour!"
He listens to the others talk. The sound of Yoongi’s voice, gravely and vaguely upset. “Jungkook, you’re not really thinking about going to work out right now- You’ve barely been home for like 5 hours. I just said we could go do something not run 10 fucking miles.”
Jungkook always gets this way; when the dizziness of the seizures turns to restlessness and he's honestly fine but the others can't resist trying to baby him. Too awake to sleep anymore. He sounds grumpy, whiney, and pouty even though Hobi's eyes aren't open to see him turn his puppy eyes on Yoongi. “I’m never going to be able to sleep tonight if I don’t hyung- I’m gonna go crazy.”
There’s the faint sound of lips meeting and smacking. Kisses that are probably meant to soothe Jungkook. “How about we compromise pup.”
“A walk?” Tae offers, sounding hopeful.
“A long walk.”
You shift a little and Hoseok opens his eyes. You're mostly still asleep just settling, making yourself more comfortable with the new space no longer corralled by arms and bodies.
Hobi’s mouth is dry when he watches you shift onto your stomach your face half-smushed into the cushions, scenting them a little in your sleep. The homey scent fizzle in Hoseok’s bones tells him that you've scented him too. Being surrounded by the pack's scent like this makes Hobi’s skin feel like pop rocks. Like his bones are mentos and coca cola. All sensitive and tingly.
He’s cuddled with you before- through your nightmares and last night at the hospital of course- but it’s never been just the two of you in a nest. He’s never been the only alpha here, charged with guarding the pillows and blankets and you curled soft in the center.
Hobi tentatively puts an arm around your waist, tugging you a little closer. The house still hasn't totally warmed up yet and you'd be cold without some body heat. He does it slowly, seeing if you’ll wake.
There is a hand in his hair, petting softly, and he snatches his arm from around your waist the second Hoseok realizes he's being watched. Yoongi leans over the edge of the couch-turned-nest, smirking a little. The door shuts behind Tae and Jungkook with a puff of cold air, and he raises his eyebrows expectantly.
He would look intimidating if his beanie didn't have cat ears. 
The pads of Yoongi's fingers rub soothing circles under Hobi's jaw and his lips part unintentionally. “Be good yeah?” he says, whisper soft. Hoseok just nods, too sleepy to verbally respond.
They haven’t talked much about Hobi’s confession; that night on the beach what feels like ages ago. But everytime he thinks of it Hobi still tastes salt on his tongue and your name on his lips. 
Yoongi’s wearing the same look now that he did then; half hopeful and half worried. But if there was anyone that would object on your behalf, if Hobi wasn't allowed this closeness with you, Yoongi would tell him.
Yoongi doesn't say that you and him aren't ready for cuddling like this. Yoongi doesn't say that Hoseok should give you space or not cradle you to his chest like you are something as fragile and necessary and as doomed as his beating heart. Trembling and stuttering with the force of sweet expectations and hopes made hollow with satisfaction.
Yoongi does not realize that Hoseok's heart has not had a steady beat since he woke up holding you.
Yoongi doesn't say anything. Yoongi just drags a single knuckle down his cheek and leaves. Heading out after Tae and Jungkook who are, judging from the hallow sound of snow hitting the windows- are having a snowball fight.
“If one of those hits me I’m not holding anyone’s hand for the whole walk-“
The door keeps out the sound of Tae's sweet giggles and Jungkook’s pouted, "just one hyung- I won't hit your face-" 
And the two of you are alone. Wrapped up warm, quiet and hushed, just the two of you.
Well, except for Noodle.
The meticulously kept edge of the nest is all fluffed, Noodle makes sure of it. Small paws depressing the blanket as he kneads it and then settles on the edge. His purr is audible from here as he blinks slowly from the bottom of the couch turned nest. Jin wrangled him for a brushing yesterday morning and his coat still looks extra fluffy and kempt. 
Unwatched and unjudged, Hobi tentatively reaches to cradle your ribs again. Thumb smoothing down the center of your stomach, a little close to your belly button. You’ve got a little hair there. Hobi’s fingers like the feel of it. Not rough but not silky.
Your skin feels like champagne bubbles and sparklers, everywhere he touches your skin goes fizzy. Hobi looks down at you, breath hitching, and thinks Is it really so horrible to want this? Why am I so afraid of this? 
You wiggle a little closer in your sleep and Hobi’s arm goes vicelike.
Noodle's purr goes a little louder. 
Hobi doesn’t like to think about his last pack ever, but he recognizes that hollow ache and tug that says memories aren’t too far behind. And it threatens to swallow him until he looks down at you. The house is quiet but your eyebrows are puffed up like something very shocking is happening in your dreams. He doesn't want to think about them right now. 
He drags his nose across your hairline; scenting you. Tasting your emotions on his tongue. Comfort. Ease. Arousal-sweet. Not all that abnormal. Not nightmares then. He is always on the lookout for them. After Jungkook and the hospital, he sort of thought they might come back. 
Hoseok counts his stars and snowflakes, and rests his forehead against the nape of your neck.
Over the next hour, you’re restless. Moving, worming your way closer to him as he goes in and out of sleep. You make a soft noise and he shushes you. a growl that says to stay put and alpha's here.
You blink slowly up at him. Hobi pulls back, taking his arm from around your waist, feeling like he’s just stolen candy from a jar on the counter that’s for him anyway. You stretch and don't comment on it, yawning. 
Noodle hops closer, squirming between the two of you and stepping over your shoulders. Meowing right in Hoseok’s face. “Alright alright, I’ll feed you again.”
You snuggle into the warm hallow he left on the couch when he detangles himself, hand under your cheek watching him as he stumbles out of the nest. Noodle follows tail held high. It's truly horrible. Leaving the nest when every bit of Hobi's body wants him to stay in the warmth. The house is always so slow to warm up. 
“Fuck the floors are cold.”
“Quick,” you say, face above the edge of the cover. Hoseok rushes, doling out a single scoop of dry food and then running back to you. Hobi wastes precious seconds to grab his headphones from the kitchen table before collapsing onto the couch where you hold the blanket up, sealing the warmth and him back inside. The headphones tangle between the two of you and he falls with a giggle. Disappearing among the white blanket. He sinks thankfully into the warmth, into the safety that the nest offers. Into you.
Your warm arms wrap around his shoulders and his body shivers delightfully in a way that has nothing to do with the cold. Your jaw pops when you yawn and then he yawns too, a breath later. You laugh too and tuck your face into his shoulder.
“Fuck- it’s so cozy.”
It really is, the kind of cozy that only comes along a few times a year. A quiet to your bones that says there is nothing to do now but rest. The coldness that turns your bodies into these molten-loving things. Your warmth and Hoseok’s warmth. One warmth.
He breathes, deep and heavy.
“I don’t know if I want to get up yet.” The house is still quiet. Nothing but Noodles happy munching sounds and the faint scratch of big snowflakes hitting the windows.
Hobi’s heart beats frantic against yours and you sigh. “Wanna listen to some music?” He offers. Hobi always loves a backtrack, a little compliment for the exposition.
You nod, a little sleepy, but Hobi has a playlist for that. He’s got a playlist for everything including ’sleepy cozy pup time’. The headphones take a second to locate, lost in the nest. But when he does you share them. One earphone a piece, the sound turned low so you can still talk.
Hobi puts on a love song, and it makes you smell all sweet. Stretched out with your hair tangling because you’ve left it unbound, the split ends prodding at Hobi’s cheeks. He doesn’t really listen to the song, just watches you. Eyes closed humming softly.
Your scent sours and Hoseok's hand goes tight on your wrist. You tell him what's bothering you without him even having to ask.
“I saw this line the other day that didn't like." You look at the ceiling, not at him. "it said a love song is really good if you can’t tell whether they’re talking about another person or if they’re talking about god.”
You think about Jimin and Tae. You've been thinking about it since Tae talked about their childhood earlier and the bloody cross between the two of them. If holiness does exist, it’s in Tae. If there is anything like religion for you or Jimin, it's love. God has nothing to do with it. God's not the person who makes love songs sound good.
Hobi turns on his side, leaning on his elbow. “I’m not sure Jimin would agree with that either.”
You turn in time to see Hobi’s smile. It catches the sunlight, lingering right on his cheek. An octagonal shaft of sunlight that has traveled millions of miles to get there could not have found a more beautiful place to fall. He huffs a quiet laugh again, and you swear you might hear the highest note of a piano somewhere.
You wonder when he became so musical to you, maybe it’s just because he’s the person who made you love music so much.
(You can tell a love song is good, when it makes you think of Hobi).
“You’re still worried about him, aren’t you?” You rest your lips against his shoulder and Hobi’s body doesn’t move an inch. They’re soft where they lie not a kiss but not not a kiss either. You can rest your lips against his skin, you can rest your whole body and Hoseok wouldn't move an inch.
“Always worried, got to worry about Minnie. Always worried about everyone.” You mumble. Eyes closing.
The light comes through the windows all honey yellow, turning the bookshelves that Yoongi made gold instead of white. Turns the tops of Hobi’s hair a little red too, the brown has endless depths in the sunlight all burnt umber and Sienna where the sun hits, yellow ocher at the tips. The sunlight savors falling on Hobi, down to the last inch.
You try to keep your eyes open, struggling, and Hobi sets a hand on the top of your head, ruffling your hair lightly.
"Go back to sleep pup."
You hum, already half there. He pulls you a little on top of him, holding you with a firmness usually reserved for too-large packages and the tenderness reserved for very fragile very precious things. It makes your whole body feel tingly at the edges.
“Thanks for not leaving the nest when everyone else did,” you think he might be asleep for how long it takes him to answer. But everything in the last 24 hours has left you feeling like you don’t want to be alone, that you can’t be left by yourself. He breathes up and it presses against your stomach.
“Didn’t want to go with the others- just wanted to stay here in the nest with you.” nesting is a biological need for alphas as much as it is for omegas, Hobi hasn't felt so relaxed in ages.
He murmurs, hand still skimming through your hair. His thumb rolling against the nape of your neck and you shiver hard into the touch, sinking further into him. “Is that okay?”
Your hand finds a spot under his arm and you use it to tug yourself closer, getting your forehead against his shoulder, the headphones slipping from your ear.
“Yeah. It’s always okay.”
Hobi tucks your hair behind your ear and puts the headphones back in.
The next time you wake it’s because Noodle is licking at your forehead, grooming you, and you hear the shutter sound of Hobi’s camera, his small giggle. You swat at noodles face and he bats at you a little before settling on the small of your back, fighting Hobi for necessary real-estate and howling when he gets pushed off.
“Nu, be quiet,” Hobi’s hushed words are answered with an equally quiet meow that sends you straight off to dreamland again.
You don't know how long it's been, it could have been hours or minutes the next time you wake. You just know that Hobi smells good, smells musky sweet caramel all drippy and heady, that you've got your nose pressed up against his scent gland. All surrounded by it. Surrounded by him.
The next time you wake is not so innocent.
You’re a little too close. Cuddling with Hobi in a way that you might with Yoongi- with Namjoon or Jungkook. All warm snug hot. Bodies and dreams tangled so thoroughly that it's hard to tell where dreamy wants begin and fragile delights end.
You’re warm at your front from Hobi and warm on your back from the sunshine streaming through the window. Warm all the way through. Until he moves his hand and you realize that’s from him too. His fingers splayed over your spine.
You think you can be forgiven for confusing them. Hoseok and sunlight are one and the same.
The apex of your thigh is pressed tight to his hip just where his thigh starts. Your leg hitched over his hip and tight to it. The fabric of his sweatpants and the fabric of your pajama shorts are all bunched up from your movements. Your knee bent at a comfortable angle. His scent is heady in your nose, pressed to the low tugged collar of his shirt just over his heart.
As close as you can be but still not enough.
You don't even realize your hips are moving, sleepily grinding against his thigh until it's too late.
Hobi grabs your hips and groans.
You stop mid-movement, thoughts sloshing sleepy. And oh, you were moving, weren’t you? There is a dampness between your thighs and the scent of slick and arousal sharp in the air. That comfortable pleasure hiccup in your throat that says you want to cum and can. could like this.
You jerk back from the warmth in front of you, startled into wakefulness as you realize exactly you were just doing.
Oh no- you didn’t mean- Hobi. Alpha, warm and comfortable at your front.
You start to back up, still half asleep, but terror and embarrassment flood you like the ocean floods the sea rocks at high tide.
Hobi groans, a deep near growl sound, and moves before you can back up even an inch. he was just as asleep as you just were until you pulled away. His sleepy brain still clings to you.
His hands slip lower, holding you tight against his front. His sleepy alpha brain is malfunctioning. Sweet omega needs to stay close. The source of his warmth and the friction against his front cannot slip away.
His hands are on your ass and your pussy is pressed flushed to his hip, and Hobi-
Hobi is your best friend, Hobi is your packmate and Hobi has to be unaware of what he’s doing. You’re sure of it. You try to pull away again from him fighting back more embarrassment than you've ever felt in your entire life, hands pressed to his chest.
But He pulls you right back to him.
Right into a unmistakable hardness poking at your stomach. Hard and warm. Right where you were grinding in your sleep.
Hoseok’s heavy breath brushes your ear.
Instincts are incredibly hard to describe. The way they hook into your consciousness and separate reason from action and want from logic. The part of you that’s in control, that recognizes that you and Hobi shouldn’t be this close like this if it’s not talked about, is so distant.
A needy sound echoes that might be from you, that is from you, as Hobi’s hands slide up your hips and under his sweatshirt. Cold hands on your warm hips and oh-
Hobi’s eyes are cracked open, looking down at you, watching you with pink cheeks. Tongue darting out to lick at his lip. “S’okey you just-" his eyes flutter closed again; breath warm against your face. "You take what you need.”
It’s only a testament to the pack's care that you associate these things with each other. Safety and coziness are just so close to pleasure and comfort. Your sleepy body associates this kind of nesting with sex. it's only natural that you'd get a little needy while inside of it.
You can get needy, Hobi doesn't mind.
Before either of you can say if you really should, if this is really a good thing to do without talking about it first. Hobi’s hands are on your waist, pulling you back snug, his hard thigh between your legs.
If you were more awake, you’d think better of it, you’d think so much but there is only that sweet pressure. The drag, the wetness, the soft little huffs of breath that he shushes when he lets you take what you need. Helps you with his hands on your hips and guides you back into rocking against his thigh.
You feel it all the way down to your toes when his hands slide down to the curve of your ass then back up again, underneath the hem of your shorts and then your sweatshirt- his too (all of you his). Rucked up to your ribs.
“Soft.” Hobi groans.
This must not be real. This has to be a dream. Because Hobi doesn't want to touch you like this, Hobi doesn't groan and twitch against your stomach or guide the movement of your hips with his hands into a slow grind that has you gasping against his jaw. Hobi doesn’t leave the seat of your pajama bottoms soaked with slick. Hole clenching around nothing already. Utterly boneless where you lie against his front.
There is one single moment where you look at each other, one single moment where you try to keep from going any farther. Even though you want it, even though he wants it too. If Namjoon and Jin have taught you anything they've taught you caution.
Hoseok can smell the others lingering on your skin, the spot on the top of your head where Yoongi rested his cheek. He leans down, brushing his lips over it. It’s such a tender gesture and it breaks the flood and he's tugging you up, tugging you even closer, desperation coloring his voice all sweet.
“Fuck- please.” His forehead rests against yours, “fuck I just need-“
You're not sure who moves first, who starts the kiss only that once you’re kissing him it’s hard to stop. One second you're holding back and the next you're kissing him like he's Yoongi and he's kissing you like he's starving.
Teeth clanging against each other, harsh as they nip. Kissing so good that when you pull apart for breath you're both gasping and it has nothing to do with needing air.
Hobi has such nice lips it’s no wonder that they’re heart-shaped. Made for kissing, made for the needy needy licking against the seam of his lips. He shifts turning you on your side, surging up to kiss you properly and put his weight behind it. cradling your head with one hand and your side with the other. You’re so pliant, so willing to let him kiss and take. You want him to take everything. arms around his neck.
He breaks apart, forehead resting against yours, heart beating so quick that he can feel it in his palms. Pupiles blown when he blinks. “If you take what you need, and I take what I need- Can we-“
Your hands thread hard in his hair. Tugging him back to your lips. Closer and closer. “Fuck Yes- please-“
You don’t know where the wanting comes from, why it’s raging through you like a fire. His lips move against yours frantic, you bite his lip and he jerks. Hovering over you with your back against the nest, all tingly and fizzy. Your bones feel like champagne popping, like shooting stars burning out.
Hobi’s hands shake when they touch your hips, just like yours do when you mirror him, your touches shy but just as hungry, tugging up his shirt, fingertips and nails pressing bluntly to his happy trail of fine dark hair. You can feel the way his cock jumps against your stomach and thigh when you scratch gently.
You pull back a little and sit up and it’s sacred; the way that he panics, scrambling to hold onto you. You're A little bit shy when you take off his sweatshirt, nothing underneath. hair fluffing when you get it free from the cotton.
Your bare skin and the cold room. You get goosebumps on your arms almost instantly when they cross over your bare chest. Hobi’s breath stutters in his chest, like roman candles flare and settle. Hobi takes his sweatshirt from you and sets it aside in his haste to hold you again.
He starts to tugs his pants down, getting tangled because he won't even pull back an inch from you. You kiss his throat, again and again making up for lost time. Sucking a mark there. His hands fumble with the waistband of his tied tight grey sweatpants. finding the loops and then freeze when he feels wetness. Pulling back and looking down just to make sure that that is what he thinks it is. you stop your kissing and look too.
There is a wet spot, darkening the grey material. Your slick from your grinding, the spot where you got so worked up and felt so good that you couldn't even help it. He pulls back so that the light can kiss it but yeah that's definitely from you. Evidence of how much you want this. Evidence of how much you want him.
Hoseok thinks you might have actually set his body on fire. Is about ready to start checking your fingers for matches.
You blush so hot that you think you might be burning in embarrassment. Hands between your legs, clutching at the material of the nest, so embarrassed you can't watch as Hoseok looks down at it and then up at you.
“I’m sorry I- I can’t help it- I'm always-“
Hobi’s hands smooth over the wet patch, splaying up to cradle his cock where you’ve left your mark. And he looks at you, jaw rolling and eyes dark. He doesn’t say anything. Can’t.
It’s hasty how you both move to take his pants off, and he kicks them to some forgotten corner of the nest, his boxers pulled off too, and then clings to you. You cling to each other. Kissing again. Hands knotting through his hair and tugging.
You glance down and oh- Hobi has such a pretty cock. the prettiest in the pack maybe (don't tell Tae), Flushed at the tip, hair neatly trimmed and curving up.
Your bare thighs press to his adds a whole new level to this, the skin there is sensitive and unknown. Lying thigh to thigh somehow feels more intimate than chest to chest as you lie the way lovers do, your leg, his, then yours again.
You’re damp between your legs when he touches, hands shaking. He doesn't bother to take off your shorts just tugs the soaked bit of fabric to the side. It’s been a long time since he’s touched a pussy but he knows enough to do it gently. Petting over your folds like he’s teasing a flower to bloom and opening a rose for a bouquet.
“Please” you gasp, hand vicelike around his wrist. Kissing his frantic pulse again. Hot lips and a cold nose drag down his throat. You hiccup as the pads of his fingers find your clit, shaking against him. "Please-"
But you don’t need to ask, you don’t need to beg. Whatever you need Hobi will give it to you. Your hands scratch as his back when he presses close, snaking underneath his sweatshirt. Breath heavy.
He kisses your neck and bites it when his length brushes the wetness between your thighs. Hot and honey slick. his hips press to your hips, harsh lines of his thighs pointing low that you like. There is so much about Hobi that you like; the way that he kisses, the way that he touches. oh- it’s better than you imagined.
His knuckles are glossy with your slick when he curls them against the nest, holding himself up.
Hobi bends down to skim a kiss across your neck, your collarbones, your sternum.
You laugh, your giggle high and bright. He has to pull back, not upset at all but wanting to laugh too, giggling too. “Why are you?”
Your smile means everything to him. “Your hair tickles.” It is kind of fluffy, kind of pulled everywhere from your kissing and you run your fingers through it, scratching a little around the nape of his neck, and Hobi is done playing.
He pulls back, already dripping a bit of precum, silvery and pearl like at the head of his cock, standing against his stomach. a little hidden because he's still wearing his sweatshirt. Checking because he can’t not check.
“Is this- can I- fuck are you-“
“Daisy, please-“ Oh, how that pet name unhinges him.
He won't make you wait another second for it, hands shaking as he holds your hip. Shushing your needy whimpers with a soothing alpha rumble as he guides his cock close. Giving you what you both need.
Hoseok is not as big as Namjoon or Tae or Jimin, but he’s properly thick. Not the kind of thickness that knocks the breath out of you but the kind that fits just right. Not enough to make you ache or hurt even a little. It doesn’t hurt at all when he eases in slowly.
It doesn’t hurt at all.
That might be because of how soaked you are; dripping messy underneath the warm humidity of the blanket. The visual of your glossy pussy robbed from him but unimportant as Hobi stares at your face, resting his head against your forehead. Watching your eyes dilate and eyelashes flutter. “There we go- fuck-”
It’s not worth pulling back to separate how close you are. How good it feels to press his chest to your chest, not even a single inch separating you. His kisses go gentle and messy, moving against yours in a gentle rhythm just like his hips after he gives you a second to grow used to it. Rocking just a little.
Hoseok has heard the others talk about your pussy, those moments that he tried to block out at the beginning and then started to file away once loving you got more real. But for everything he's heard from his packmates, nothing compares to the reality.
The closeness. The way your hips fit. The hot- too much- clench around him.
He understands a little maybe, fully buried in you for the first time, why they talk about it so much. Why Jungkook had slipped it into dirty talk a few times with Namjoon and why it had made him growl and cum so quick. Why Tae had teased Yoongi for hogging you.
Your pussy feels like an inside joke in all the best ways, the kind of inside jokes that always have you feeling both known and loved. You can’t remember what you used to laugh about when you were a teenager and if asked Hoseok would fail to describe why sex with you feels so full. Why it feels like highlights and golden ages, the golden hour drenching you. It’s not sex for pleasure’s sake and it's not sex for closeness's sake either- although that’s part of it.
It’s not sex at all, it's making love. With Hobi, it’s making love from the beginning.
It's not instincts and mating bond urges. It’s not one submissive giving to a dominant. It’s not about protection and safety even though that's there or because you're an omega and he's an alpha. Because he's a man and you're a woman.
It's just love, that's it.
And it doesn’t hurt at all. For either of you.
The eye contact is never ending, his warm and fucked out the more he rocks. Gentle at first and building up frantic. Hobi doesn’t fuck like the rest of the pack does either; he doesn’t speak, letting out these quiet heavy breaths and shushing your squeaks with soothing alpha grumbles. His thumb wiping away the few overwhelmed tears that slip out and a smile swallowing your hiccuping breaths.
"Fuck” he breathes, moving his hips a little faster. His stomach presses to yours damp and tacky with sweat. Hoseok’s doesn't fuck in and out all the way, hardly moving away from you at all. Just rocking in deep.
Hobi doesn’t stop hitting every spot, comfortable with these unending rocks of his hips, maddening in the way that he never stops filling you. Never pulls out even half way.
Your hands weakly clench in the blankets of the nest as he twitches right there. That sensitive spot inside of you that feels like courting ecstasy when he nudges it. It’s the same spot that Yoongi likes to tease at, the spot that only his long fingers can reach properly and Tae’s too when she’s really trying. Ghosting over it and petting at it until you’re mad with pleasure.
But Hobi doesn’t tease, Hobi just gives. rubbing against it again and again with every gentle roll of his hips.
you put your hand over your mouth to quiet your whimpers when he pulls back, sitting up just a little. Holding your waist and forcing your body further down on his cock, nudging it as deep as it can go and you sob.
Hobi grins, a little cocky, a little pleased that despite his size compared to the others you're still equally as wrecked.
“Right there yeah?” he teases, and then rocks against it again. thumbs pressing against your stomach where he cradles you. waist so tiny that they almost meet when he holds you.
Your cheeks are hot, and you have to turn and whimper into the pillow. he lets you shift so that you're belly down in the nest and he's behind you glued to your backside. lying his weight down behind you like a blanket. pressing you into the nest where you'll stay like a good pup.
Hoseok instincts are absolutely purring. omega, getting bred in such a pretty nest. Good warm soft omega.
Your hand laces with the blanket, needing something to hold onto and he kisses the back of your neck, treading your hands together as he keeps going. This new position lets him rock in even deeper, putting his weight behind it.
“If you keep going, I’m not gonna be able to-”
His breath ghosts your ear, lips dragging down the column of your throat to nip and suck gently at your scent gland, marking you there. his hand presses, holding you to the bed as he rocks harder. His barely formed knot already inside and growing, getting you closer and closer as it thickens. Keeping him right there at the spot and you on the edge. You're so wet it's making noises, soaking and dripping down his cock.
He kisses your mating mark, nipping at it, and you’re gone.
You cum, a wet gush around his knot and a broken whimper. a growl in his throat sounds loud in the empty house. It sounds like made mate happy, made omega cum for me. Hoseok's Alpha is absolutely preening watching your Legs shake, the nape of your neck sweaty, body slack and head tilting to bear your neck. both of your bodies messy from it, filthy and blushing with love.
Hobi’s not far behind, rocking another time, a third, a quiet satisfied breath into the back of your neck before his knot pops locking you together as he cums so gently. No growls or gasps, just hot spurts that fill and satisfy you. Knot popping and Locking you so close you can feel his cock pulse. So close you can feel the same heartbeat on his lips when kisses you, hurried kisses pressed to the nape of your neck that quickly go slack with sleep.
Your hand settles across your stomach, and oh- you realize why hobi wasn't bothered by how wet he got you earlier. He just keeps cuming, so much that it's leaking a little around his knot. You're not sure that Jimin or Tae or Yoongi cum this much, Namjoon definitely does- but thats kinda proportional.
he just keeps going, heat flooding you. Maybe he's only cumming so much because it's the first time, and he needs to claim you from the inside out. you're a little too dizzy to figure it out.
You feel like you might pass out. You don't know if it's squirt or cum or just sweat when he lies himself over you. cuddling closer despite the mess. Teeth at your bared throat, Sucking softly, Soothing.
instincts are kind of embarrassing at best, irrationally hot at worse. you squirm a little closer so that his knot goes deeper.
The sunlight spills across your cuddled forms, still underneath the big thick blanket. He doesn’t pull out, the knot keeping him snug tight. His hand is on your cheek, rubbing up and down your jaw. He pulls the blanket up around you. And neither of you says a word as your rapid breathing calms.
You’re not sure who falls back asleep first. Only that he wraps his arm around you and pulls you back on top of his chest, cuddled there. Knot warm and safe inside of you.
knotted together like this, you're finally finally close enough.
~-~
When Hobi wakes you’re watching him and his dick is out. Wet and slick and cold.
That would certainly cause him to be alarmed if it wasn’t for your expression; a little pale. Hands between your legs and looking at the doorway.
You just really don't want to drip cum onto the couch, like- obviously. Hobi didn't hurt you. But the brief terror at waking up uncuddled and so suddenly douses Hobi like a bucket of cold water.
The cold might be the actual reason for his sudden wakefulness. The wintry air in the room is jarring because the house is finally heating up. (as much to do with the heating system doing its job as it is with your activities earlier that turned the windows all hazy with condensation).
It's like someone had just come in and then abruptly left again. Your cheeks are pink, and there is a cloth on the side of the couch, folded and warm. You didn't get it for yourself.
“Don’t freak out, but Yoongi and the others walked in while you were asleep.”
You’re kind of glad that he wasn’t awake to see your mate barely contain his screech, jumping up and down with Jungkook in the entryway. Namjoon’s subtly grinning expression when he took in your appearance and paused in the cold doorway breathing in deeply. Tae wrapped around one arm; their walk interrupted by his return from surgery.
He groans, barely awake enough to think about the visual that Yoongi and the others were treated to. The consequences are better than a shot of expresso at wakeing him up.
But really, was there ever a possibility that the others wouldn’t find out about this? Does Hoseok even want them not to know?
He's too tired, too think about this logically.
Hoseok wonders why he didn’t wake to you holding him. He’s seen you hold the others, hold Namjoon in the morning when you smell like him. The way you wake slowly and run your fingers through their hair. The other alphas have a habit of cuddling up to rest their head against your chest. Hobi remembers that day by the beach when you pet his hair, he wants you to do that now.
But he can't fucking ask. Asking you to cuddle him would be fucking embarrassing.
“Shit." He shakes off his neediness and easily locates his boxers in the mess of the nest because they're bright red. Surreptitiously tucking his now soft and deflated knot back inside. You look away, letting him have that moment of privacy without comment. Your arms curl around your chest, you’re still nude from the waist up. thighs clenched togeather.
“Yeah uhm, they went back out to like- give us some space.”
"Did they say anything?"
You look away, wiggling over to the edge of the nest. "No. But they looked like they wanted to say a whole lot.”
You definitely don’t say that you heard their scuffle, Namjoon and Tae using their alpha privileges to wrangle an overly excited Yoongi and Jungkook. or that both of them had come back inside, both with pink cheeks smelling sweet at the sight of Hobi’s face pressed to your neck and the fresh hickeys at your throat.
(Hobi’s hickeys are always so small and cute. Tae can’t wait to take a picture and save it, for memory's sake. She’s half tempted to take out her phone and snap a picture of the two of you now.)
Your hiss of “Don’t say anything, I swear to fucking god if you wake him-" cured her of any bad ideas and had Namjoon grinning, his dimples showing.
Yoongi’s finger pressed to his lips in the doorway. Smiling wide and showing his gums. Omegas do get awfully protective over alphas in their nests. Especially post-knotting.
You’re honestly a little surprised that their muted shouting hadn’t woken Hobi. The closed door had kept out the cold but not the sound of them discussing on the porch; mostly Tae's insistence that they needed to get out of the house for lunch instead of heading back inside.
“But what if they need aftercare?”
"We shouldn’t leave them alone and unprotected.” (Classic Joonie).
“Yeah! What if they need cleaning!”
Yoongi snorts, “Gross Jk- I’m pretty sure the last thing they want is you licking up Hobi’s cum.”
“But he always likes it when it’s Jinnie-" that had your face and body heating (although that could just be Hobi- a literal furnace that he is wrapped around you).
Now his warmth is on the other side of the nest yet it feels impossibly farther away. As you both stew in silence under the weight of what you’ve done, what you just did.
Everything feels quiet and scary as you put yourselves back together in silence. You use the wet washcloth to keep yourself from dripping all over the couch while he looks for his pants in the mess of blanekts that smell like sex.
Thoughts like shit shit shit and what have you done ping-ponging back and forth across his brain. Mind bouncing between unlikely personal regrets and likely female rejection (of which he is only too familiar with).
Hobi doesn't like feeling rejected, it always brings up bad memories. He didn't wake up to you holding him. Is that a rejection or is his brain just making it up? People always hold each other after sex. Don't they?
You reach for his sweatshirt but before you can touch it a growl bursts forth from his throat and you freeze.
Hoseok scrubs a hand across his eyes, trying to wipe away the memories fitfully. Maybe it’s just because of the fact that he woke up and you weren’t wrapped around him. He's going to have to cuddle you himself if he wants it right now.
This first time with you reminds him of other first time's that didn’t end well. He's sorry for it the second it slips past his lips.
“Sorry, I don’t know why I just- my fucking instincts feel like they're on fire."
“So can I…?” you trail off. Your skin has goosebumps again. And Hoseok doesn’t know if it’s the casual nakedness that has him feeling so unmoored. A blush trailing its way up the back of his neck even though it shouldn’t be weird. He saw you shirtless every other hour during Namjoon’s rut for Christ’s sake.
“Yeah, just wear it- please wear it.” He can’t take back his growl, but he can meditate by watching you pick it up and hug it to your chest. Looking at him for a second as if to check that it’s still alright and he’s not going to snap at you again.
There is a hickey on your shoulder, the spot where it meets your arm. Hobi doesn’t know if it’s from him or someone else. It's a little too red to not be new. You don’t look uncomfortable being nude in front of him.
If anything, you look a little bit glowy.
You look at him and then pull it over your head. His cheeks still heating stubbornly as your chest moves a little, jiggling.
Why do girls have to just- girl all the time- it's honestly a little unfair how much hobi blushed.
He watches you, sitting on the edge of the bed in nothing but his boxers as you stand up pulling the sweatshirt down your hips. He stares at you until you ask a little flustered by hiding it, “What?”
He tugs on the hem of his sweatshirt, slowly, carefully, leaning forward as he tugs on one of the strings with his teeth. His hands go to your waist pulling you close gently, half sure of himself and half afraid. Hoseok is always somehow half afraid. Is this allowed? Is this wanted?
He rests his head against your stomach, loosely twining his arms around your waist to pull you closer, still loose enough that you can step away if you want. All of this can stop if you don’t want it. He hopes you know that.
Hoseok looks down at your feet, not at your face. “I love it when you wear my clothes. I really don't know where that came from.”
“Careful,” you say, a grin in your voice. Your tone light because you don't want him to smell so sour again. “I’m gonna go for your pants next.”
You snatch his from the floor and dart away. Nothing excites an alpha’s instincts like a chase, and Hobi feels the fire light down his spine. His movements are a hunt-heavy blur. Brain honed in on you.
He catches you by the counter, your giggle echoing off the high ceilings. His blood heating again as he drags you by your hips and flops down into one of the bar stools, sitting you on top of him with a growl.
His hands grip hard around your waist, determined until he’s shy. Letting you go softly, “Sorry I just-”
“Instincts still? Don't worry I get it.” You give him his pants and sit up off his lap so that he can put them on. And now is not the time to get another boner Hobi- but it’s kind of hard not to when you smell so bred, so wholly satisfied.
Hobi did that. Hobi's the one who made you look like this drowning in the afterglow.
Your own instincts are telling you that you want to take the blankets from the couch and drag them upstairs, and tuck them in around the scents of the others. So that they can all see and smell how good you made your alpha feel.
Hoseok’s pleasure leaves an undercurrent to the air that’s intoxicating. Half sugar-sweet and musky alpha. Your body hums with it as he steps up close behind you, close enough you can feel his warmth and not his body, nose skimming the bruise he left close to your mating mark. Letting out a tired sigh.
You did just work off a lot of energy, regardless of the half-nappy half-cuddle fucking that just was; It's also left you fucking hungry.
As much as the kitchen has been a place of anxiety for you it really isn’t with Hobi there. There is still that tape line on the floor that guards you off from the stove, sink, and the fridge. Hobi steps out from behind you and goes to the fridge, getting out some of the prepped fruit that Yoongi almost always keeps on hand.
But you keep looking at the kitchen, the pans hanging above the sink, your mixer sitting dusty in the corner. The hanging mugs. Everything.
He brings it to you, setting it down in front of where you sit. instincts making his eyes fever bright. He watches a little too intently as you lift a raspberry to your mouth. Something about watching you eat cools his instincts, making him release a taught breath.
He watches as you lift another piece, a blackberry to your lips and bite down. Almost purring, too afraid of what might slip out if he speaks. He half wants to do it himself and feed you from his fingertips. But that’s a little too embarrassing to consider.
A minute later, after you’ve eaten half a dozen more pieces, he reaches past you, about to get a piece of peach. He doesn't think anything of it, but when he reaches past your face- you flinch.
It happens so quick that he almost doesn’t even catch it. One second your cheek is turned straight and the next your eyes are darting from him to the bowl. Scent souring with fear and memories from Geumjae.
Fuck. (No cuz actually- fuck Geumjae.)
You don’t look at him with fear, you just look at him with a strange sort of sadness in your eyes. Sorry. Like you’re sorry for being scared. hoseok's hand goes tight on the counter.
"I'm sorry."
Hobi sits down. Holds your hands in his, and waits for a second before he speaks. makes his words quiet and gentle because anger at someone dead and gone has no place here.
“I’m not going to hurt you.” You have nice hands, warm where they press into his. And he cradles them, your knuckles flexing vaguely in his grasp, gentle but commanding.
“You’ll try not to, you mean."
You smile at him sadly. Hobi’s chest is tight with it. He needs you to know how much he means those words. How much he needs to mean them. But you both know how hard it is to promise that.
"No. I mean I’m not going to hurt you. Ever.” He repeats. You smile at him sadly again. And he knows his brief anger earlier when you touched his sweatshirt- usually such a normal thing for you- didn't escape you at all. But grief and mourning and memory always finds you at the worst times; after first times and on sunny winter afternoons.
The two of you are a mess, bodies teeming with the memories of failed loves, lost and broken. But you can ignore your triggers; such innocuous things as you wearing his sweatshirt and him reaching past your face. You can ignore your memories; the wretched and rotten ones, just for today.
You let the heavy moment pass and look at the other side of the kitchen. Hobi’s chest feels tight with something. Something that he needs to say but can’t just yet. You can only tell someone you love them for the first time once. You don’t get a second chance.
Hobi just wants to get it right.
You’re looking at the kitchen that Yoongi made for you, holding his hand still. using the other to feed yourself more fruit.
(Is there anything more intimate than holding hands with someone? It feels like more than the pads and lines of his fingers are pressed to yours. soul to soul and palm to palm. The future is written out right there but you ignore it. Love line, health line, fate. But the two of you are dedicated to writing your own end. Your love line is exactly the same length as his, not a millimeter longer).
Hoseok’s chest is still all tight. “What are you thinking about?”
“I haven’t made anything in months.” You sigh, sad. “I want to. I used to love baking, I used to-” you break off, sorrow making you quiet.
Hobi’s eyes are fixed on your shoulder. There are freckles there. He’s not sure why he’s never noticed them before or that you’ve got them dotting your back.
Hobi swallows past something in his throat. Pushing you gently from your chair until you're standing next to him. Cupping your waist because now that he's started touching you it's hard to stop. Now that he knows he’s allowed to touch you so casually, so affectionately, he going to keep doing it.
“Go. I’ll watch you, make sure you stay safe.” Because that’s the rule, isn’t it? Not that you can’t be in the kitchen at all, just that you need someone there to keep you safe.
The words feel tight in his throat, not easily said. I love you. He thinks as he watches you move to the mixer with a small but pretty smile that looks like daisies have taken root on your skin, everything sweet and flowering.
I love you. He thinks as he watches you get your cookbook from behind the mixer. I love you he thinks when he watches you place a mug from that morning in the sink. I love you he thinks as you get the sugar, the vanilla, the salt. He has to get up and get the flour for you, unwilling to have your arms strain underneath the heavy container, doting on you just because he can.
Just because he wants to, just because he loves you.
The shadow of what’s left on the bag hits his dark clothes like a ghostly outline when he holds it. The flour is a bit like you; everywhere he touches it leaves an impression. The rainbows from his suncatcher you put in the kitchen shift with the angle of the sunlight, winking out one by one as dusk falls.
He sits at the kitchen island and watches as you hum and flick through your recipe book. Golden hour fades to orange and pink the same way that roses fade.
He’s not sure why he blurts it out, why he asks, “What’s your favorite?”
You look up from your cookbook, everything is set out but still, the recipe is undecided. “What?”
Hobi can not look at you for this, instead looks at the kitchen island and the old butcher block countertop. Fingers toying along the edge where a knife left a gash.
“You always make everyone else’s favorites; Namjoon’s honey cakes, coffee-flavored things for Jin, the vegan stuff for Jungkook you know- but-” his eyes flick up to you in a moment of bravery. “What’s yours? What's your favorite?”
You think for a moment, a kitchen apart, fingers tapping on the countertop and Hobi can’t take his eyes off of you. His body feels a little achy but in that ‘was just fucked good’ sort of way that makes his breath deeper. Quieting some alpha part of him that always wants a little more. A little more scenting, a little more validation, a little more attention.
But everything can wait.
“My favorite thing to eat or my favorite thing to make?”
“Both. Either.” You glance at the clock. Going to the pantry for a second to double-check that you have everything you'll need. “I’ll have to make some of it from scratch but-" you look at him. “Do you have time?”
Hobi nods. “As long as you need.”
Hobi watches as you measure out the flour and sift it. Hobi watches as you wait for the eggs to get to room temperature and fucks with the playlist. His phone will eventually get splashed with coco but- it’s okay.
All of this is okay, all of this is I love you I love you I love you and I don’t know what to do with all of it, can you take someone it, please. I don’t have enough space in my body to hold all of it. Hoseok doesn’t speak for how sheer the impulse is just to blurt it out.
The yellow plastic mixing bowl keeps clattering against the counter as you stir the egg yolks until they froth up and fizz. Pouting you turn your eyes to him. “Can you help?”
Hoseok has to swallow back the words before they slip past. Hopping up a little too quickly. “Yeah of course.”
You don’t tell him what you’re making, let him guess. So many of your recipes need egg whites and vanilla. You let him put it together on his own. Hobi doesn’t peek at your recipe book and spoil the surprise.
Every action, every spoonful of sugar is I love you too, just say it. You don’t talk about the sex you just had and you don’t say I love you to him. You wait for him to say it first. You don’t say a thing besides; “Just a half teaspoon of that; drizzle it a little at a time, or else it clumps together. Good.” Hobi’s cheeks heat with every bit of praise and you have a lot of it for him.
Hobi looks away when you look up from the bowl, oh so carefully folding the batter and egg whites together. So gently that the hiss and bubble of whipped egg yolks disintegrating is hardly audible.
Hobi hasn’t baked since he was a kid; since he got into his head that chocolate chip cookies were totally something that an eight-year-old should be able to make on their own without adult supervision and almost burned his parents’ apartment to the ground. He tells you the story and you laugh.
He can tell that you’re making adjustments as you go. Adding in a bit of cinnamon, piping off the cookies in neat little lines, and then tapping them oh so carefully to get rid of the bubbles.
The stove preheats and then the tray goes in, filling the room with your scent. That cakey baking aroma that has him resting his head back against the cabinets when you sit on the floor and greedily breathing in.
You wait the 30 minutes like that, sitting on the floor between the cabinets and stove. Your feet pressed to his knees and a glass of lemonade between the two of you.
“You really like baking,” he says, and your eyelashes flutter, you must be getting tired. He takes your feet into his lap, using his hand to massage up your calf. Smiling when you sigh.
“Yeah, it makes me feel- I don’t know. I like making the world sweeter, just a little. Even if it’s just my little corner of it. Making things you guys like makes me happy too.”
“You know, you could go to culinary school if you wanted.” Hobi gets a little shy because you hadn’t explicitly told Jin and Namjoon not to tell anyone about your plans or your application (still pending). It will be a few more weeks until you find out, but that change is just on the horizon.
He's already seen Jimin perusing expensive leather bookbags and has overseen a recommendation letter coming from Namjoon’s email. Hobi might have read it for him to double-check because Hobi always notices things the others might gloss over. Jin and Tae had given it proof read too.
You make a noise in your throat, halfway between a hum in approval and a hum in distaste. “I don’t know, it seems like- a lot to do for a hobby.”
Hobi and you are the only two in the pack who wanted to go to college but didn’t. Couldn’t in your case because Geumjae wouldn’t let you and flunked out in his. He gets the lack of clarity in your voice; to go back or not go back. To try again or not try at all and not worry about whether or not you’re enough.
“I already started applying anyway. Namjoon and Jin and Tae put a lot of effort into helping me apply and-” You let out a frustrated sigh.
Hobi shakes his head, “Doesn’t matter. You can change your mind.” There is always time. You tap your toes against his shins and he grabs your feet and you jerk, ticklish. And he almost almost gives in to the urge to tell you he loves you right then and there.
“But could you be happy? Doing this all the time?” You turn, putting your hand over your eyes to peer into the oven and make sure that the ladyfingers are rising properly. “Doing it every day? Would it make you happy?”
You pause, hand on the door before replying in a small voice. “Yeah, maybe. Maybe I could be happy.”
You stand with a crack of your knees, sticking out your hand for Hobi and almost falling into him when he truly uses your hand to help himself up.
“Come on, we’ve got to make the whipped cream next-”
It goes like that, you both talking, and Hobi fucking with the playlist. Thinking three little words and not saying them.
You let the ladyfingers cool for a few minutes while you make the expresso. Dunking them in quickly. Piping out the honey-flavored whipped cream in sticky little dollops. Shaking out the cocoa with a practiced hand.
You make the caramel for the top last. Sugar-burning, glass-like little strands on top for a bit of crunch.
The tiramisu is a delicate creation, the layers perfectly spaced out in just the right ratio of cream to chocolate. You let it sit for a second in the fridge and when you take it out, you cut it into a single perfect little square and put it on a plate for him. Treading over the blue painter’s tape line and lingering by him where he sits.
“Try it.” You ask and he does obediently.
Hobi takes a bite of it, rolling the flavors around his tongue while you watch. You haven’t cut a piece for yourself just yet, but you have a fork. You stand on the other side of the kitchen island and take a bite from the other corner of the pan, humming happily when the taste hits your tongue.
It really is your favorite. You grin at the plate, “I could finish this whole thing in one sitting.”
Hobi takes another bite. It’s really good, the flavors are simple but delicate, each of them identifiable but yet cohesive. He could eat all of it too.
Hoseok swallows and realizes why it's your favorite; It tastes like all of you- like the pack.
The honey whipped cream is Jin and Jungkook, and the chocolate cocoa on top is your mate; dark chocolate like an Oreo cookie. Hobi thinks it might not be normal cocoa. The homemade ladyfingers are soaked through with Namjoon's coffee and the cake itself is a delicate dance of Tae’s cinnamon, Jimin’s vanilla, and your scent too. Buttery and yummy.
He's finished half of what's on his plate before he realizes that you added the crunchy layer on top, the caramel too.
That’s Hobi isn’t it? The Burnt sugar sweetness. He knows that’s not typical but still, you added in anyway. The smell of caramel is thick in the air. Sweet sweet sweet. Hobi always smells the sweetest when he’s falling in love.
The tiramisu tastes like the whole pack. Like love soaked threw. Hobi’s heart and body is full of it.
He thinks this might be his favorite too.
Hobi tries to blink back the wetness, really tries not to cry as he takes another big bite. He gets a little bit of whipped cream on his lip, licking it and sniffling. You pause, a bite hovering between the plate and your mouth before you set down your fork with a clink.
“Oh Hobi”
The space between you is nothing more than air as you quickly head around the kitchen island. You cup both of his cheeks and he sags into the touch, hands instantly going over yours to keep them there. Tears spilling warm and unabated down his cheeks.
Hobi decides right then he is beyond pretending that he doesn’t want it, that he doesn’t want you. Wet cheeks and imploring eyes.
“Oh Hoseok, what’s wrong?”
You’re standing between his legs and your collarbone rests against his cheek. Your hand runs through his hair and his heart pulses hard.
"I didn’t mean to make you cry. If this is because-” you trail off. You don’t say that you shouldn’t have had sex earlier because you can’t find it in yourself to regret this even a little bit. But you are sorry for not doing it in a way that didn't make him cry. If that's why he's crying.
“No it’s not that. I just-" Hoseok can hardly speak his mouth is so full of love that it bursts from him before he has a chance to think it through. Sobbing a little as he says it;
"I'm crying because I love you and I don’t know how to tell you.”
Hobi stutters and your hands on his cheeks go firm for a second before they relax. “I love you; I love being around you, I love that you're my best friend and that i get to love you too. I love living in this house with you. I’m crying because for the first time I get it-”
He can’t stop the confession now that it's started, and if he'd just open his eyes he'd get to see your smile but they're screwed shut tight.
“I get it, I get why once Yoongi met you, he couldn’t leave. I understand why he brought you back to us. But-” he hiccups and you giggle a little at the sound. His eyes shoot open and he realizes that you're crying too- that you haven't stepped away. You wipe away his tears with your thumbs and grin down at him.
“I'm so fucking afraid too- I can’t help but feel like the way we started just- fucked everything up. I fucked everything up back then by being jealous. I look at you and I’m scared I’ll fuck this up.”
You hold his face in your hands and think; I will be gentle with you, I will be gentle with you even if it kills me. You have never loved someone broken like you, and you know how easy it is to make a wrong step. But you’re sure when you say the words anyway.
“You won’t.”
“But-” you kiss his hands, knuckles, fingertips. His forehead, his lips Everything. Your eyes are focused and Hobi can’t look away.
“You won’t, you promised not to hurt me and you won’t.”
He falls silent, and you pull him in close. His lips still tingle from your kiss and you kiss him again, long and lingering, hard with the force of your conviction. It tastes like tiramisu.
When you break apart, Hoseok rests his ear on your heart and listens.
You should say I love you back, you really should return the words. But you think there will be other moments to say them. You'll say it when you wake up with him tomorrow morning, you'll say it when you fall asleep tonight curled close to him. There will be more time to say them- during a late-night drives when you look over at him in the dark. There are always going to be more times to say it and you’ll say it and mean it every time.
Unfortunately, life isn't so neat and tidy.
You wipe his cheeks and he wipes yours and you both giggle, leaning into each other. You get him a tissue for his nose and start laughing all over again. Being with Hobi will always be like this, half your lover and half your best friend.
“Do you want to go on a drive later, only,” you wipe tears from your own eyes, “want to take the others this time?”
He smiles, “That’s the best idea you’ve ever had.”
He tries to pull you in for another kiss but you feed him a bite of tiramisu instead and it gets half on his cheek, “finish your cake alpha,” you command, and Hobi is perilous to disobey. the next bite you take ends up on your cheek too because he tickles you, and you blush when he leans forward to lick it off your cheek. All giggly and happy and close. You sat practically on the edge of the counter. Noodle meows and laps up some of it from the floor.
You don’t need to say I love you back, you already have. Hobi can taste it on the edge of every bite.
You cut him another piece and share it this time, and he can't stop looking at you, can't stop smiling.
You smile around a mouthful, "i'm gonna tear up that train ticket."
"Don't you fucking dare. We've gotta like- put it in a scrap book or something."
You clean up the tiramisu, thinking of what might happen when the pack gets back, thinking of how things will go now that you’ve settled this. They’ll be happy; all of you all together finally. This last piece of your little family finally falling into place.
Maybe it will go like this:
Maybe when the pack gets home, there will not just be tiramisu on the counter. Maybe there will be gluten-free lemon bars and honey cakes. Chocolate ginger cookies dusted with powdered sugar and freshly baked bread with cheese and garlic. Little personal cheesecakes that you made in a muffin tin dotted with jam preserve because now that you’ve started to bake again there might not be anything to stop you.
You already feel the urge in your hands, the urge to make things. You think it might have been learned from Yoongi.
Maybe they’ll come home with pizza, unsure if a party and alcohol is really the proper way to go about celebrating, but the cake from the bakery that Tae will buy as a joke, will have flowery lettering and “congrats for losing your Hobi-ginity"
It will make you laugh until your lungs ache like the fireworks have gone off. Will make him blush and rub the back of his neck in shyness.
When they come home there might be a few sly comments but the pack knows when to tease and when not to. Maybe Namjoon will take a hearty sniff at Hoseok’s throat, dragging it up and down the nape of his neck, huffing happily. (Namjoon has always been a little bit possessive of Hoseok the same way Jin has always been possessive of you, but that's pack alpha's for you).
Tae will tuck your hair behind your ears to get a better look at the mark he left on your throat, manicured fingers gently stroking over it. and Yoongi will shoot him a challenging look and drawl, "really daisy? is this really something you wanna start?" all playful. the way yoongi only gets when he's really really happy.
And when Jin gets home, Maybe he’ll drag you over his lap with some squirming because there is no avoiding this hole check. Not when Jin and the others have been waiting.
Under the hungry eyes of the rest of the pack, you would still squirm. Your mate watching and grinning as he nibbles a piece of pizza and just watches as Jin pulls your sleep shorts down to your knees. Leaving them there to pin your thighs together. Hand against the small of your back to keep you still.
Of course, the pack omega has to look after the two of you and make sure the lowest on the hierarchy is being safe without a stronger presence nearby. But your entrance is pink fucked warm, not red and inflamed. Hoseok’s knot is the perfect thing to warm you up, and Jin tugs his sweatshirt over your hips to keep you warm as he examines you.
Fingers drag your entrance apart to show the others how good hobi did. Prompting them to touch and feel for themselves, all of their fingers teasing at your entrance and all of them touching you. Tae and Jungkook holding your thighs, Jimin and Namjoon resting their hands on your ass to help jin hold you open better and yoongi prodding to feel-
They'd want to see his cum slip out, forced from your hole by your needy clench. Of course, they'd just fuck it back inside because not a drop can go to waste. one set of fingers and then another, jungkook leaning down to taste.
Jin’s eyes would be all dark eyes and honey tones, looking hoseok up and down, cheeks as red as the sweatshirt you wear. His praise makes Hobi feel just a little bit too proud for his own good.
Hobi would probably get a knot-check for that, because if the alpha has something to be proud of then surely the others need to check his ego (and only in the way that hobi likes).
The alphas would scuffle with him a little, wrestling to settle him. Hobi's instincts are still fever bright and he needs to be put in his place. To feel the pack for what they are; very necessary safety bumpers.
He'd go so easily after a few nips- Jimin would help pull his pants down so Namjoon could get his big hands around him, fingers teasing at the red skin around his base and making Hobi growl and gasp. Pausing to cup lower and make sure Hoseok's empty, that he didn't hold back breeding you. Tae would tutt and make him open his mouth, her finger teasing along his teeth just for shits and giggles. Just to make him groan.
Nothing makes an alpha more proud than getting to show off his teeth.
Jin would smile at the display, and croon. “Good alpha.”
Maybe Jin will pat your pussy lips softly before pulling your pants up, making you flinch and then relax and jungkook would bend down to give Hoseok's knot a little kiss before standing.
The whole thing would take maybe 5 minutes but it would leave the whole pack ravenous for more. The final evidence of this finally happening; all of you together and not fragmented.
As you should be, together.
Maybe later, after treats and pizza, you'll all get to go to the beach like Hobi promised. Two separate cars. And Namjoon might let Hoseok and Jimin do donuts in the empty parking lot without too much fuss. The smell of tires and gasoline ripping.
Jungkook whooping and Yoongi watching on with his grin, Jin in the back seat with you going “Oh- oh hope- slow down” looking a little green. But terrorizing the pack omega is kind of your job.
It’s cold and late at night but you’ll tear out across the sand. Running to the shore. Tossing your shoes into the dark and toeing into the waves. Yelling happy.
You and Hobi will try and throw Yoongi into the water and then the other alphas will actually succeed in throwing Namjoon, pushing him until he inevitably tumbles into the seafoam. All 7 of you will try and wrangle Jungkook into the same wet fate and fail.
Jin will tuck Namjoon’s wet hair back behind his ear and grin at him, his grin saying the words they don’t need to. Kisses tases like secrets and salt but that much has not changed. Might never change when it comes to the eight of you. All the secrets in the world couldn’t keep you apart.
You’ll get zoomy in the way that dogs get in wide-open spaces. You’ll run. Your feet slapping against the sand, tossing spray into the air as high as your laughter, chasing after each other. A bunch of barefoot kids in too-big bodies and sand between your toes. Hands clasped tight in each other’s so that you won’t let go. You won’t ever let go now that you've found them.
For once you'll be absent of all the things that drag you down. Lighter than the warm air that billows over the sea. Mouths that store special secret salty smiles for the better. Damp fingers that curl against warm wrists. holding onto each other tight even though you’re running and running-
Running.
Maybe.
But that’s not what happens. Instead, what happens is this;
You are sitting at the kitchen counter when Hobi gets a text. It’s from Jungkook asking about the pizza types that you’d want and
Yoongi’s left his phone, he says with a little 👀 emoji. But he won’t truly tease the both of you until he gets home. Of course Yoongi was too distracted by you and Hobi post coitous to grab it from the other room.
you to to the pantry to put away the flour and this close- you can hear another phone ring from the bathroom. It's it yours? Only No, it's not your phone sitting on the counter, but Yoongi’s. Lighting up with Jin’s contact information.
JinJinJin: 5 missed calls.
It's so like your mate to leave his phone in such a random place. You smile as you pick up.
Jin is already talking a mile a minute. Fear and panic make his words come quick and desperate.
“Yoongi- why the fuck didn't you pick up" You don't have time to respond. Don't have time to let him know it's not your mate but you that picked up the phone.
"I don’t know how the fuck it happened, I don’t know- but-“ he’s almost shouting over the phone, such raw panic in his voice that it has your body going frozen.
Jin lets out a broken sobbing breath.
"I shot Minnie.”
~-~
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Notes:
I ended up editing out a good portion of Hoseok ’s inner monologue at the begining, because I realized that at that point in time with the other pack he wouldn’t have been thinking stuff about how terrible it was because it wasn’t terrible yet. i probably should have even edited it fluffier if we're being honest. i think that would have been more unsettling.
The line where she says “One second you're holding back and the next you're kissing him like he's Yoongi and he's kissing you like he's starving.” Is a little hard to explain, she’s not thinking about Yoongi in that moment but the person she associates the most with love is Yoongi so- yeah it made sense. I feel like this line might make people go a little like “what??”
I swear if you guys didn’t cry a little at the ‘It doesn’t hurt at all.’ Parts I’m not doing this right because I was SOBBING.
Listen, I almost edited out the line where he calls her pussy an inside joke so many times- but for me- when I was younger I always wanted to be a part of inside jokes because like- if you are that means you’ve got history with someone- Hoseok is thinking this because until this moment- he hasn’t been able to be apart of something that the rest of the pack had understood.
When Hoseok was leaving a hickey over her mating mark it’s his way of saying “this is mine too 😠” to Yoongi,
Honestly??? Why is Hobi so feral in this like- he’s a /little/ unhinged from how much he wants her and tbh it’s fair. Look away if you don’t wanna read him going APESHIT for her.
ALSO- I’m just imagining him on the walk with jungkook and Tae, cheeks slowly pinking up because he can feel that they’re having sex down the mating bond, maybe getting hard and the others noticing, both of them plastering themselves along his side and teasing him with words like “do you think he’s making her all wet and messy hyung? Do you think she’s gonna cream around his cock like she creams around yours?” and Yoongi just- endlessly suffering around the two horndogs that are Tae on estrogen and jungkook on a regular day.
The moment where they’re holding hands and it’s talking about palmistry is a refrence to noah kahan’s song everywhere everything and the line “it’s been a long year, in all of our books pages dog eared, we write out the ends on our palms dear, and forget to read.”
The worst worst worst part about this chapter is that I don’t??? have a fucking recipe for the tiramisu?? Like I’ve made it before but I’ve never made honey flavored whipped cream or put caramel on top 🥺 maybe I’ll test it out one dayand update this chapter
Okay so the ‘flash into the improbable future at the end is a little too horny for the end of smutt but I couldn’t just /not/ put it in there because you know how I love a good hole check scene.
do you hate me because of this cliffhanger? even i have to say its a little unforgivable.
please be patient for next chapter because i do not have A SINGLE fucking word written for it. like nada, we're starting from scratch come monday.
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Hobi's sex Playlist (jk isn't not a sex playlist)
Dominic fike- Mama's boy (hobis' flashback)
Mitski – my love mine all mine. (yoongi telling him to be good)
Lana del ray – chemtrails over the country club. (the sex)
Olivia Rodrigo – can’t catch me now (when they're both triggered from the respective abusive relationships)
Tom o’dell – black Friday. (Juz cuz)
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the-s1lly-corner · 1 month
Note
Helllloooo v-v! I couldnt help but notice you've got requests open! Can I please request Jason x sunshine personality!gardener!reader ♡? 🌳
Jason x sunshine!gardener!reader
I know by the time this posts it'll be old news, but the eclipse yesterday was so pretty :3
Notes: Reader is GN
CWs: canon typical violence though it's only briefly mentioned
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He loves your optimism so so much! Its nice to come home to you after a day of slashing campers
Sometimes he catches you working outside your shared cabin... and while he would prefer you'd stay inside until all the campers are handled with, he cant find himself to scold you in that moment- you just seem so happy to see him!
He definitely makes sure to push the point later in the evening
I believe I've mentioned somewhere in a jason post somewhere that the two of you make a garden together! I dont remember what post is was, though.. sighs
You grow flowers and food, further self sustaining yourselves in the woods!
He sometimes brings you things from the camp hes... "found"
Hats, coats, things like that to help protect yourself from the sun when you're working outside!
More than willing to help you with something that requires some heavy lifting or carrying- what seems impossible to you only weighs as much as a bag of grapes to Jason
Really comes in handy if you have a heavy load to drag from one place to another
Your energy tends to rub off on him, on days where hes more riled up.. you just kind of ease his rage away- take the edge off
Hes almost resentful that it took so long for you two to get together, he was so.. lonely.. before you came around
But hes happy that he has you now!
He stops to pick flowers for you before returning home
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maple-the-awesome · 5 months
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Happy New Year! ||
Pairing: {Any} Link x Reader
Words: 923
Overview: It's New Years in Hyrule and you plan on finally living out one of the most famous holiday traditions. Here's a very last minute New Years piece that I decided to write within the last hour because I've done it for other characters before, so why can't it be Link's turn? Happy New Years everyone 🥳
Zelda Masterlist 🎉 Fandom Masterlist
You’re certain even the inhabitants of Death Mountain can hear the current celebrations taking place in Castle Town right now. If not, then the gorons of this kingdom must’ve invested in some pretty efficient earmuffs.
How anyone actually enjoys parties like this is beyond you. You can barely hear yourself think over the obnoxious shouting of the crowd, let alone enjoy the music being played by a band Hylia knows where. 
Is this street lined with cobble? Going off of what you remember from when you first arrived this morning, you think it is, but there’s no point in trying to confirm it now. It’s been forever since you’ve seen so many people in one spot, packed together like sardines that wear colorful hats and clothing, but you definitely don’t miss being tossed this way then that way by such obvious mobs. 
At least the night will be ending soon. Although you doubt that will put an end to this overwhelming party, it will give you the freedom to return to your comfortable room at the local inn which you PRAY is soundproof or else you’ll really be cranky tomorrow, but for now, you must blink away the sleep and continue on your path since there are far more important matters at hand than a good night’s sleep.
“Where are we going?” The question might as well be whispered during a storm. You don’t hear a word of it, your only hint towards its existence being the way Link’s lips move in the corner of your eyes. They’re turned upward in slight amusement as he follows after your swift pace. The only thing that’s keeping you from being separated into a wave of sweaty bodies is your tightly interlocked hands.
Around another corner, shoving past a drunk trio and into the first breath of fresh air you’ve had in the last four hours. It’s not necessarily ‘quiet’ with the festival only a few feet behind, but you suppose it will have to do. 
“What’s with that sour look?” Link pokes the corner of your lips, earning himself a swat and a misdirected glare; a consequence of your disappointed pout.
“...This isn’t what I had in mind.”
“And what is it that you had in mind?” He raises an eyebrow teasingly, his grin growing naturally when you cross your arms while tapping your foot like a frustrated rabbit.
“I-I don’t know. A garden filled with roses. A lone fountain sprouting glittering, moonlit water - Something more romantic than this!” You gesture ahead to the narrow alley which is filled with only discarded boxes and untouched by any moonlight due to its position between two tall buildings.
“At least it doesn’t smell,” Link points out, but your scrunch up nose tells him that his optimism isn’t helping much, so he wraps his arm around your waist, tugging you against his side where you stubbornly stand with mocked annoyance written all over your face.
“...I suppose it will have to do,” You eventually sigh, leaning your head against him yet keeping your arms crossed as emphasis that you don’t really care for this ‘compromise’. You just don’t want to venture back into that crowd nor do you have the time for it, “...A garden would’ve been much better, though.”
“Agreed.” 
“You must be wondering why I’ve dragged you here.”
“To escape further social interaction?”
“No - Well yes, but that was only an added benefit; a type of ‘kill two birds with one stone’ situation. What I really brought you here for is tradition,” You pivot your body so that you can stand in front of him. 
Almost automatically, he fixes both of his arms around you, keeping them low against your hips as he watches you straighten his tunic, “Tradition? What kind?”
You hum and take your time in answering him,  “...It’s tradition in my world to share a kiss at the stroke of midnight during the New Year. Supposedly it brings good luck or something like that. I’ve never done it with anyone before, but you seem like a decent fellow; I’ll take any good excuse to kiss you.”
“That so?” Link chuckles, gently lifting your chin to look up at him.
You merely nod. Out on the street, you can hear the crowd’s voices begin to fall in sync until they form one joyful rhythm and familiar countdown. Leaning closer, you let your breath fan Link’s lips, your flirtatious smirks a mirror of each other’s, “One kiss for a year of good luck. A worthwhile trade, wouldn’t you say?”
Moments ago, you were forced to walk through a town of drunk people who had forgotten how to behave in public, so it’s surprising how well they all suddenly know how to count: 10…9…8…7…6…5…4…
“Fool. You know I don’t need any reason to kiss you,” Link whispers, meeting his lips to yours which acts as the perfect distraction that pulls you away from the eruption of shouts and crackling fireworks that shake Castle Town to its core. What was once so difficult to drown out is officially mute against your ears as you wrap your arms over Link’s shoulders and allow him to dip you into the kiss that molds both of your smiles together.
"Does that make up for the lack of romantic settling?" He pulls away only enough to ask his question, each movement of his lips brushing yours.
"Very much so," With that, you pull him back in for another kiss, after all, who said you'd have to stop after midnight?
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fatehbaz · 11 months
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Because most medicines were produced from [...] plants [...] these early “pharmaceutical monopolies” required full control of the production and trade of a species. Russia successfully managed the rhubarb trade in the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries, while Spain controlled the distribution [...] from Spanish America, mainly cinchona from Peru, in the same period. “True” cinnamon grew only on Sri Lanka, so whoever controlled the island could dominate the cinnamon trade. The Portuguese were the first to create a monopoly on the cinnamon trade there in the early seventeenth century. That monopoly was later optimized by the Dutch in the late eighteenth century [...].
“True” should indeed be in quotation marks here - the term reflects the historically contingent tastes of Europeans, rather than any botanical category [...]. The rarity of cinnamon in the early modern period made it one of the most coveted spices of that era, and European countries without direct access to the cinnamon trade tried to imitate, substitute, steal, smuggle, or transplant the “true” product from Sri Lanka. [...]
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In the early modern period, cinnamon was also important both as an exotic commodity and as an important therapeutic substance. The Dutch East India Company (VOC), which controlled Sri Lanka between 1658 and 1796, was well aware of this. The VOC vigorously exploited the Salagama - [...] specialized Sri Lankan cinnamon peelers - to supply enough cinnamon, which for a long time was gathered from forests. Only after the peelers rebelled, leading to a war that lasted between 1760 and 1766, did the company revise its production policy. 
Experiments with “cinnamon gardens” (kaneeltuinen in Dutch) led to enormous successes, and the company eventually grew millions of cinnamon trees on plantations in the final decades of the eighteenth century. Meanwhile, competitors of the Dutch had come up with their own solutions [...]: Spain had started growing other Cinnamomum species on plantations in the Philippines, while France and Britain succeeded in transplanting cinnamon to islands in the Caribbean. But the Dutch monopoly was not simply threatened by outside competition. Smuggling, by peelers or VOC personnel, was strictly forbidden and severely punished. [...]
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Hendrik Adriaan van Rheede tot Drakenstein (1636–1691) was the VOC administrator on India’s Malabar Coast when he started experimenting with cinnamon oil in the 1670s.
He concluded that the oil, which he extracted from the roots of local cinnamon trees, was of better quality than oil from cinnamon trees on Sri Lanka. Van Rheede reported these results in his entry on cinnamon in volume 1 of the Hortus Indicus Malabaricus, the twelve-volume book that was produced by a team of local and European scholars, and supervised by Van Rheede himself.
Van Rheede’s assessment of cinnamon - in fact, the very publication of a multi-volume work about the flora of Malabar - infuriated the governor of Sri Lanka, Rijckloff van Goens, who had secured the cinnamon monopoly of Sri Lanka for the Dutch. Van Goens insisted that Van Rheede stop his medical experiments, claiming that the monopoly was at risk if the cinnamon trade was extended beyond the island of Sri Lanka. 
But Van Goens was not so much concerned about the therapeutic efficacy of cinnamon from either of the two regions. He was motivated by an imperial agenda and regarded the natural products of Sri Lanka as superior to anything similar in the region.
The experiments of Van Rheede, who was his former protégé, threatened not so much the botanical quality of the product, or the commercial interests of the Dutch East India Company, but rather the central position of Sri Lanka in the Dutch colonial system and the position of Van Goens as the representative of that system.
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Even when Sri Lanka still only produced cinnamon that grew in the wild, the Dutch harvested enough to supply an international market and were able to dictate the availability and price level throughout the world. The monopoly, whether defined in commercial or pharmaceutical terms, was not easily put at risk by efforts like Van Rheede’s. Those involved in the early modern cinnamon trade were motivated by various reasons to defend or undermine the central position of Sri Lankan cinnamon: botanical, medical, commercial, or imperial. These motives often overlapped.
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All text above by: Wouter Klein. “Plant of the Month: Cinnamon.” JSTOR Daily. 17 February 2021. “Plant of the Month” series is part of the Plant Humanities Initiative, a partnership of Dumbarton Oaks and JSTOR Labs. [Bold emphasis and some paragraph breaks/contractions added by me. Presented here for commentary, teaching, criticism purposes.]
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mollymagician · 5 months
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Helllooo so, reading certain fun posts over at @gabessquishytum ‘s place got me thinking of one of my fave movies and like—
Dream spent years trapped by social expectations in an unhappy and unwanted marraige with Alex Burgess, ignored and withdrawn into his own little world. He has his greenhouse and his bizarre prize-winning hybrid roses, his unpublished forever-not-quite-finished manuscripts, and that’s enough, he thinks.
Until Alex kicks the proverbial bucket and Dream learns that the Burgess family fortune has been so badly mismanaged, he’s inherited nothing from his late husband but a drafty old mansion sitting on a pile of debt.
The creditors are closing in and Dream…hates the house. He always hated it. But dammit, spite is a hell of a drug. He hates his family as much as he ever hated Alex and Fawney Rig, and he refuses to be kicked out of his own home. He needs a source of income, asap.
Luckily his gardener Matthew has pot plants growing in the hedges and more optimism than sense. Win win!
Pretty soon there’s A Lot More than prizewinning roses growing in Dream’s greenhouse. A lot more. Dream must have some sort of eldrich gardening powers, because this stuff is insanely potent and is also growing out of control. They need to find some way to unload this crop, and fast. Dream needs money. The authorities are getting suspicious. Matthew doesn’t want to go to prison. The whole town knows. So off they head towards the big city to try to find a buyer.
And find a buyer they do!
Hob Gadling isn’t…exactly a crime lord. He’d never describe himself that way. He’s just a creatively savvy businessman. And he’s never been more entertained by ANYONE more than he is by this gorgeous and charmingly awkward lunatic who’s somehow wandered into his little seedy underworld with a gardener and the weirdest story that he’s ever heard. He’s head over heels, instantly. And he’s determined to keep Dream out of trouble, if not just because Dream’s wildly delicious, than at least because Hob firmly believes that no one should go to jail for objectively funny crimes.
…I’m just trying to decide who it is in this version of the story that ends up on the floor, stoned out of their mind, eating cereal out of the box and wearing googly-eye glasses. Please watch this movie, for that scene ALONE.
…The gardener in the film’s actually named Matthew and I tend to envision my Sandman-verse human!Matthew based on the Matthew from this flick. Though Grace’s gardener!Matthew was actually Scottish. (The trying-pot-for-the-first-time scene works just as well with Dream looking at Matthew, blurting out “…you’re American!” and then laughing like a lunatic.)
…After the Whole Incident At The End That No One In Town Can Remember, Dream and Hob rename Fawney Rig to Fiddler’s Green, Dream publishes his novels, and of course they rebuild the greenhouse. Bigger this time. And everyone lives happily ever after.
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ye-local-simp · 1 year
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Hello! May I ask how Leona, Jamil, Deuce, Malleus, and Idia would react to an s/n who is like Princess Peach?
[S/o who is like Princess Peach]
[LEONA,JAMIL,DEUCE,MALLEUS,IDIA]
Leona:
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-They say opposites attract.
-Savannaclaw sees you as a parents figure and it is great honestly since they respect you a lot.
-You are so graceful and understanding while he is aggressive and lazy.
-He always grumbles how he is too tired but you just know he loves your company.
-Otherwise why would he tag along.
-He has definitely been more active since you started dating him.
Jamil:
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-You were so perfect and he likes that, you were naïve yes, but not emotionally.
-You always asked how he felt, what he thinks.
-At least now he sees himself as someone who matters, not because he has to do things for you.
-Also sees an opportunity to live a better life, but that isn't his sole reason, he really does like you.
-Especially since you understand his emotions despite not being in the same situation.
Deuce:
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-He loves doing things with you, like gardening,etc.
-You are so kind and sweet like his Princess.
-He didn't see much sweet and forgiving people when he was growing up since he is currently in an all boy school and had delinquent friends in childhood.
-You both are role model to each other.
-He could use your optimism and well-manneredness while you can use his strong willingness.
-Being with you has definitely made him calmer and less stressed.
Malleus:
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- He would be even more intrigued to know why you aren't scared of him, at all.
-You were a fair, frail and weaker human than he was.
-Yet you would never cower in his presence.
-He likes you because you are the only person who didn't hide from him or run even though he heard you were kidnapped so many times.
-You were open to him and treated him as a friend rather than treating him as an outsider or a monster.
-He also likes to travel so you both go travelling ocassionally.
Idia:
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-He is literally the opposite of you.
-You were kind, extroverted whilst he was introverted and quiet.
-But he loves you because of your kind nature.
-Out of all people, you were the only one to try to understand him.
-Even though,you were never in his shoes or seeing people the way he does.
-You never try to force him into uncomfortable situations and Ortho seems to like you.
-He has definitely felt more calmer being with you.
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cupidastrology · 2 years
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venus through the signs 🎀🕺 short terms
please do not repost or copy my work.
︎ ♀︎ in aries: love is wild, crazy, and temporary. passion consistently needs to be restored in order to stay in the fairytale that you desire to be within your love making and connections. the colors of scarlet red encase you with boundless ways of aggressive love.
︎ ♀︎ in taurus: romance is full of physical touches and lavish forms of indulgence. diving into fine wine and a great meal with your loved one is the ways to sweep you off your feet. this is a position of voicing your wants and needs with strength and desire.
︎ ♀︎ in gemini: communication and a freedom of mind/ideas are important when in love. you need to have a discussion, a new thought, and a opportunity to branch out from the regular and routine. optimism and hand holding is a must.
︎ ♀︎ in cancer: the home is where you create from the emotions you hold in your stomach. this is a position where creation is a foundation, and seeks an opportunity to grow more around you. a lovely garden, a house full of homemade products. love is making.
︎ ♀︎ in leo: confidence lives within the love you express with others and into yourself. you may come across insecurity and self-doubt when it comes to love alone. dominating forms of expression with lovers.
︎ ♀︎ in virgo: a desire for greenery, plants, and concoctions in the kitchen. you desire communication that is honest, genuine, and straightforward. bs doesn't suit you, and a partner must be grounded in stability so you can thrive health wise. the mind is sensitive to love.
︎ ♀︎ in libra: love is a scenery full of loops and replays. you don't aspire to look towards the dark edges of romance but rather what can seduce and invite your partner into a world of equality. balance will always be an issue, domination is often found in your connections.
︎ ♀︎ in scorpio: endlessly claiming, possessing, and consuming. it's not easy to let go or move onto the next step in life. love can be abandoned or forbidden, or there is a possibility of being involved in questionable rxships.
︎ ♀︎ in sagittarius: the teacher and the guide in love, traveling with the lover is a must, the relationship grows through personal experience, lots of horse back riding and cosplaying is cowgirl/cowboy costumes.
︎ ♀︎ in capricorn: the stability, the dominance, and the courage to get through imbalances within love, passion is worth it if they have a expensive car, a way of words, and a open hand big enough for you to hold onto it. you desire someone that is not weak in any form.
︎ ♀︎ in aquarius: romances spike into otherworldly fantasies and desires, public forms of affection, and being able to become open minded with those around you. keys to love include many massages, what ifs, and lingering questions in conversation.
︎ ♀︎ in pisces: love has no bounds and is not entitled to any hierarchy or form. youre meant to feel, heal, and constantly go through the throes of love into unrequited love. energies of this position deal with die hard romanticists.
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anipgarden · 1 year
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Cheaply Starting Seeds
This is my fourth post in a series I’ll be making on how to increase biodiversity on a budget! I’m not an expert--just an enthusiast--but I hope something you find here helps! 
Having a high-quality seed-starting setup can feel like an ultimate but distant dream. An entire shelf--an entire room, even, filled with grow lights and plant trays in the optimal setup to make tons of plants? Tons of garden tools, each with a diverse and dedicated purpose? That’s just not an option for some of us. But that doesn’t mean we can’t get started at a low cost!
Seed Starting Set-Ups
Speaking from a somewhat biased Floridian perspective, I’ve had great success starting seeds outside! My usual set-up is on a rarely-used outdoor patio table that’s moved to a sunny spot in the yard, but I’ve even grown seeds in solo cups on sidewalks, or directly in the ground, with great results! 
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Some seeds grow best when they go through a cold period before germinating, while other seeds aren’t affected much by it and just wait for warm weather. As such, a viable option is to sow your seeds in late fall, let winter roll by, and wait until the seeds sprout on their own come spring! I would try and mark off where you planted said seeds, so you don’t lose track of them and accidentally dig them up.
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Alternatively, if you want to get started while it's cold outside, a popular option I've seen is to grow in milk jugs! There's a lot of different ways to do it--everyone has their preference--but if you're already drinking things like milk or juice or sweet tea, and you're going to get jugs at some point in time--why not use them for gardening?
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An easy way to clear up a section of lawn to create open gardening space is by using a sheet mulching or lasagna gardening method (though I like to call it the Cardboard Snuff-Out). Place cardboard or newspaper down in fall/winter to mark out where you want to garden. Layer compostable materials like grass clippings and wood chips on top of it, or potting soil/bagged compost. It’ll decompose over Winter into an organically rich bed that’ll have killed the grass and weeds underneath it. You don’t have to break out any tools and sweat over it come spring, and the cardboard itself will slowly decompose as well!
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Though it's often recommended to plant things directly into the ground to decrease watering needs and increase nutritional independence, there’s plenty of reasons you may not be able to. Whether you’re renting, living in a place without a yard, or even just can’t or don’t want to break ground in a yard, you can still help biodiversity by growing in pots. Some plants have rather extensive root systems and aren’t well suited for pots, but there are still plenty of options available for plants that’ll boost biodiversity, be beautiful to look at, and grow just fine in pots! A recommendation is to get a larger pot, if you’re able, as it’ll hold onto more water and need watering less often. Not only are potted plants great for providing food for insects, but they can be shelter for other creatures too--there’s been a good few times I’ve moved a pot and found a frog or toad living underneath it.
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If you don’t have room for pots on the ground, you could consider using hanging pots or window boxes! These can be great and easily-maintained options to provide food and habitat for insects and birds in an urban living situation like apartments or townhouses, but they can also be a fun way to add even more habitat to an already-robust home garden. You can even make an entire mini habitat in a window box or pot! I can personally say I’ve seen tons of pollinators visit my yearly hanging basket garden that consists of about five to seven plants, and I’ve always loved the idea of having a window box for blooms right out my window. Just make sure that it’s safe--make sure they’re securely fixed, and that whatever they’re hanging from can handle their weight when they’re freshly watered and loaded with plants. 
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If you want to start indoors, you don’t necessarily need grow lights or heat mats (though it will make things a bit easier.) I’ve successfully grown milkweed, peppers, tomatoes, zucchinis, and even sprouted lemon seeds in college dorm rooms, and kept tomato and pepper plants in a dorm room on a sunny windowsill. For the most part, you need a nice and sunny window, some kind of container, and a source of heat (in my case, I used anything from a space heater to the warmth of my laptop running nearby. If you don’t have any sunny windows, or enough windowsill space to start plants on, its possible to obtain cheaper grow lights. One year, my mom bought me some gooseneck grow lights that could clip onto things for cheap off of Amazon. (Fair warning, though, they did light up my entire room in purple. I lived alone that year (covid year, my roomies bailed), so it was fine, but it was kind of trippy,)
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Another year, when I was in an apartment on my own, I bought a grow light modeled like a normal light bulb from the lightbulb aisle in Lowe’s and put it in my desk lamp. Growing seeds indoors can make them grow fast and leggy, so it’ll help if you can keep a desk fan on them so they focus on growing strong instead of tall and fast.
If you’re fortunate enough to have a friend with a nice set up, you could see if they’re willing to let you borrow some of their space to start your own plants as well! My set-up in college was by no means High Class, but I was still more than willing to start seeds for my friends who asked!
Containers for Seed Starting
So now that we’ve talked starting seeds indoors and out, we need to address what to start them in. It’s important that whatever you’re using has drainage holes, and be large enough to support your plant (starting something like milkweed or a squash in a tiny little pot won’t yield great results). Fortunately, there are options here!
If you’re looking to buy pots, Dollar Tree will sell some small plastic pots for cheap in the spring! They’re kind of thin, and won’t last forever, but they’re great for a few uses and don’t cost a lot of money. Something that’s a bit more pricey but are longer-lasting, in my experience, are the Burpee SuperSeed trays. They come in different sizes, but I’m fond of the 16-cell trays--they have silicone bottoms and are made of a nice solid plastic with a tray to hold water, so they hold up for a long time and are easy to clean and reuse!
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Burpee seed tray, my beloved.
What’s better than a cheap pot? Free ones, and there’s plenty of options there! I’ve seen people use toilet paper or paper towel rolls as pots by folding the bottoms in and have it work well for them! I think this method would work best if you had some kind of tray to keep them moist, because mine dried out fast last time I tried this method. I’ve also seen people make pots out of newspaper with a few different methods, and the people who use this method love it--apparently, the roots pass through the paper easier and it decomposes faster when buried, so you can just transplant the whole pot and avoid any kind of transplanting shock. If you don’t have any newspaper on hand, you can likely ask your friends or neighbors! 
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I’ve gotten lots of mileage from reusing old containers by poking a few holes in the bottom with knives or scissors--just be careful while you’re doing it! I, personally, am more likely to use an already-used solo cup for it--they’re a nice size, so they hold a good amount of soil and moisture and give the seedling a good amount of root space. I tend to write the plant information on the side of the cup in sharpie marker, or on an index card in pen. I’ve also heard of people making use of egg cartons, fruit containers, yogurt cups, milk cartons, soda bottles--the more you start thinking about what you could easily poke a hole in, the more options start coming around!
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This photo may be from 2018, but I'll still regularly reuse cups like this! They're also great for cuttings!
As you start planning to move your seedlings into the ground and preparing planting sites, you’ll likely need a few tools to do it! How do you get these? You may be able to borrow some tools from a neighbor! As long as you make sure to return them in good condition, depending on how friendly your neighbors are, they might be totally fine with you borrowing their tools for awhile. If you don’t want to take that route, there may be a tool library you can borrow from, or a mutual aid group that can loan you tools for awhile. Either way, borrowing tools is cheaper than buying them--though, if you do have to buy tools, cheap hand-tools from Walmart or the dollar store work just fine. They’ll even last a good while if they’re taken care of when not in use! I've even seen places like Ross sell some tools and pots in spring!
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Spotted in a Walmart gardening section by the registers, 2023.
Of course, your mileage may vary with these. I genuinely cannot think of the last time my house got a newspaper, and as I've mentioned I don't have to worry about snow. Similarly, maybe you don't use plastic cups when you can help it, or don't have a particular affinity for eggs and yogurt. Maybe there isn't a tool library in your area--I sure don't know if there is in mine--but it could still be worth poking around and asking a neighbor!
That's the end of this post! My next post is gonna be about ways to support your plants for cheap--we're gonna be talking compost, mulch, and trellises. Until then, I hope this advice was helpful! Feel free to reply with any questions, your success stories, or anything you think I may have forgotten to add in!
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breelandwalker · 1 year
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Worm Moon - March 7 2023
The world is thawing and spring will soon be sprung. Dust off your garden tools and get ready for the Worm Moon!
Worm Moon
The Worm Moon is the name given to the full moon which occurs in the month of March in the Northern Hemisphere. The name is taken from the renewed visible presence of earthworms, which begin to bubble up in gardens and on sidewalks as the spring thaw approaches and increased temperatures and rainfall loosen the soil enough for them to emerge. And of course, this is accompanied by the presence of spring harbingers like robins and local songbirds, who are very happy to see this renewed bounty.
The March moon, if it occurs prior to the spring equinox, is also the Lenten Moon, named for the Christian holiday of Lent. Indigenous names for this moon include Goose Moon (Algonquin and Cree), Sugar Moon (Ojibwe), Sap Moon (Shawnee), and Crow Comes Back Moon (Northern Ojibwe).
What Does It Mean For Witches?
Full moons are both the beginning and end of the lunar cycle. With the Worm Moon, we can look forward to the beginning of spring and the yearly harvest cycle. So now is the perfect time for seasonal divination, plans for the coming months, and the setting of goals for the future, both short-term and long-term. You can also check in with goals you may have set back in January and record your progress. (Remember - even a little progress is still progress!)
If you're an observer of astrology, you might be interested to know that Saturn and several other planets are experiencing transitions this month, some of them for the first time in several years. For those who work in celestial spheres, this may herald a long-awaited breath of fresh air and (hopefully) positive changes to come.
What Witchy Things Can We Do?
The Worm Moon heralds the imminent start of the planting season. If you've got green fingers, now is the time to begin planning your garden for the season. Prepare your sprouting trays and browse your favorite seed catalog for inspiration.
As the Spring Equinox approaches (March 20th), this is a good time to start putting together any seasonal observances you'd like to make. It's also time for that all-important spring cleaning, so open up those windows on a warm day and air out all the staleness from winter. As you scrub and dust and declutter, you can also magically cleanse your space of stagnant, disruptive, or unwanted things, replacing them with your own energy and your good wishes and goals for the upcoming season.
Consider also how you can change or begin new routines and habits to improve your life, make better choices, streamline your schedule, or just give yourself a much-needed break. If there's something hanging around that no longer serves you, now is the time to consider bidding it adieu and moving forward to a new path.
This is also an excellent time for spells focused on fertility, optimism, and new growth. It's important to remember that fertility spells don't just have to focus on procreation. They can also be geared toward planting, creating, opportunity, inspiration, motivation, prosperity, abundance, and anything that requires nurturing and productivity.
The season of growth and renewal is upon us, so it's time to Ready, Set, GROW!
Happy Worm Moon, witches! 🌕🌱
Further Reading:
Worm Moon: Full Moon for March 2023, The Old Farmer's Almanac
Worm Moon: The Stunning Full Moon of March 2023, The Peculiar Brunette
Everyday Moon Magic: Spells & Rituals for Abundant Living, Dorothy Morrison
(If you’re enjoying my content, please feel free to drop a little something in the tip jar or check out my published works on Amazon or in the Willow Wings Witch Shop. 😊)
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thesensteawitch · 8 months
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Weekly Tarot Reading (18th September- 24th September) 🪻🔮💜
Pick A Pile Reading
♡Take A Deep Breath and Choose♡
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(Left to Right---1,2,3)
Hey, Senstea Souls!
This is a collective reading. Take what resonates and leave what doesn't. And if you find this reading helpful then drop a tip before leaving.♡
Pile 1
Hello, my dear pile 1. I see that you have started something new or may start something new at the beginning of this week. You are/will be full of optimism and hope for this new project but because of your need for instant gratification, you may get disappointed not seeing the results so soon. The flowers in your garden might take longer than expected to grow. But life is about being patient. Especially when you start something with so much passion, hope, and optimism you will be tested. The Universe wants to know how strong you are and for how long you can hold on to hope. During this week please treat others nicely and do not let your anger take the best of you. An important advice here is to not think too much or overwork because if you will you may have a burnout which doesn't seem good to me. Also, an old friend or acquaintance may pay a visit. Be kind to them but at the same time make sure you have your guard up. You may not like this person much or even if you do still be cautious but be giving. I know it's a bit complex but this is what it is. Be patient with what you have started, you will see the results. Release the attachment to the result and fall in love with the process.
To get more clarity and guidance specific to your situation book a reading with me.
Pile 2
Hello, my dear pile 2. So I see that you have come out of a pattern or maybe right now you are somewhere in the middle. It's like you are out of the situation that was needed to let go of but you still aren't sure how to restart. Now you are supposed to start fresh and make plans. You may be revisiting your past actions or the situation that led you to where you are now. But for the future foundation to be laid, you need to stop looking back. Why something happened to you is because there was a profound wisdom you needed to gain. You are asked to let go of the old ways of doing things and ask for someone's guidance. I see that you are not alone. There's someone who knows your situation and is helping you out. But I think you need some guidance from a specialist to help you with your situation and woosh away the dark clouds that dance over your head. You will be facing some competition but the good thing is nothing is yet set in stone for you. Which means you can carve your own path. Now the decision is in your hands. Adaptability is a must for you. By the end of this week, if you make the right move, you will see your reality shifting.
To get more clarity and guidance specific to your situation book a reading with me.
Pile 3
Hello, my dear pile 3. I see that this coming week a lot of things will not be in your control. You might want to burst out or give a punch in the wall. But that's not what you're asked to do. You're asked to think twice before taking a risk. Don't act impulsively. Stay near water bodies, take saltwater baths, or go for swimming. You are asked to slow down a bit and look at things from a different perspective. Your rigidity might make things worse for you in this coming week. Don't give up on your morals but try to listen to others too. And when you feel a strong resistance to do so then ask yourself what is that you are so afraid of. Because there's an underlying fear behind your excessive stubbornness. I can assure you that if you calm down for a bit when you are on the verge of letting your anger take over you and just shift a bit of your perspective you will gain a profound insight. A rebirth is there on the cards for you. Things will be happening in your favor even though you may not be able to see it. You have to trust and maintain your composure. Let go of something that you are afraid of. You may be somebody who easily becomes paranoid. Release the fear.
To get more clarity and guidance specific to your situation book a reading with me.
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superficialdomina · 1 year
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Missed connection - Part 2
A/N: Part 1. Also - this story occurs in an AU where Tom is single and available. Only one person is cheating here, and its not our baby faced angel.
Warnings: Smut. 18+; minors DNI. Infidelity. Fingering, oral (f receiving). Utter self-indulgent nonsense.
Summary: Another chance run-in with Tom. This time it’s hot.
W/C: 2.8k
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It had been a perfect week in Padua. The conference had been as you'd anticipated; long, challenging days of forced socialising and extraversion which left you feeling exhausted, but you'd had good feedback on the research you presented, and you had met some wonderful people who might become collaborators - friends, even. And in your downtime you had unashamedly embraced Padua; visiting the museums and basilicas, seeing the Scrovegni chapel and seeking out the underground Roman ruins. You had spent your mornings walking the beautiful lanes of the Botanic gardens, and afternoons sipping aperitifs at the café below your AirBnB. 
The warm, sunny days had been punctuated by occasional stormy downpours. Just like this one, you think, watching the heavy rain drench the warm pavement from your covered café table. The smells, the sounds, the click of heels on cobblestones; it all enfolded you with a sweet joy that you didn’t want to end.
End. You suck in your cheeks, thinking momentarily of your husband. Once, you had both been deeply committed to the concept of monogamy; when love was fresh, and temptation seemed immaterial, if not unthinkable. But over time, your precious optimism had waned. You knew that you had both, at times, found your best intentions to be worthless in the face of a compelling attraction. Were occasional acts of infidelity deal breakers in your marriage? 
Distrust and discord grow where betrayal is exposed. And so you had set aside your fairytale expectations, with simple rules: don’t ask, don’t tell, don’t catch feelings.
Your eyes glaze over and you sink quietly into yourself, sipping your aperol and thinking back over the past few nights. Ever since your encounter on the train, it has been hard to concentrate on anything... except him. Replaying your conversation over and over, cringing at things you had said, regretting things you had not. Analysing his every word, every movement, every expression. Was that hint of chemistry real? Had you imagined it? 
The more you had reflected on it, the more you realised that it was simply his talent at putting people at ease. He was charming - the internet all agreed. It was just who he was. And nothing to do with who YOU were.
More than that, it was irrelevant. It was over. A fascinating, inexplicable blip in your otherwise mundane existence, and beyond that, meaningless.
But no amount of reasoning or personal berating could stop you fantasising about an imagined alternate ending to your brief encounter with Tom. Instead, you had spent your nights alone in your sweet little loft apartment, touching yourself mercilessly to the thought of him. His beautiful, expressive face and his broad, perfect body. His eyes. His mouth. The rumours of his amorous talents and his impressive endowment. The feel of his hand in yours that one moment you had touched… Gods, you are in public, you chastise yourself, looking around, embarrassed, to ensure no-one is watching you. 
And it's then - as you pass a cursory, sheepish glance around you, wondering if the nearby strangers could read the filthy thoughts running through your mind - that you see him. Head down, hood up, utterly soaked by the unexpected downpour and uselessly trying to find cover under the straight-sided buildings across the street. 
Is it him? It’s hard to make out his face under his sodden hood. But his long, lean body, broad shoulder blades curving down to that slender waist, powerful thighs in tight jeans… The sight of him sends a shot of heat to your core, primed by the fantasies you’ve been indulging in all week. Either it’s him, or there’s two of them, you think. 
Softly, you call his name. 
He looks up, frowning warily. You inhale sharply as his features come into view; fuck, that perfect face. You press your thighs together and take a steadying breath. You raise a couple of fingers in greeting - and feel yourself melt into a puddle when he smiles in recognition. 
In three long strides he is across the narrow street and beside you under the cafe awning. He reaches up and gracefully slides his hood back, revealing sodden curls stuck to his sharp cheekbones. Droplets from his damp hair continue to run down his strong, sharp nose; he wipes rain from his eyes and your cunt pulses delightfully at the sight.
“Y/n,” he smiles.
“Hello, Tom,” you grin in return, the lust coursing through you making you confident. “Forgotten your umbrella?”
“Ah-,” he starts, chuckling self-depreciatingly. “Yes. Well, truth be told, I don’t have one.” Water continues to trickle down his face from his damp hair, disappearing into his soaking grey hoodie which clings delightfully to his broad shoulders and chest. 
“Are you - are you trying to get somewhere?” You motion in the direction he had been headed. “This street doesn’t go anywhere but to the church at the end.”
He sighs dramatically. “Actually, I’m… lost,” he confesses. “I was trying to get to the Prato della Valle but - my phone battery went flat, and I don’t know the way.”
You laugh warmly. He really is lovely. “Again? Are you Candy Crushing it to death?” He looks at you, confused. You think quickly; try and fail to stop yourself nervously wetting your lips with your tongue.
“I - the place I’m staying is right above here,” you hesitate for a second. Gods, this is so presumptuous. “Would you - I can offer you a towel - and a phone charger?” His mouth curls up at the very edges. 
He lowers his eyes to his soaked clothing. “That would be… very welcome,” he smiles. 
***
You step inside the bright loft apartment, and he ducks his head to follow. The apartment is flooded with the stormy afternoon light pouring in through large kitchen windows; a small staircase twists up to an open mezzanine bedroom, while a narrow corridor leads to a bathroom and laundry behind. 
“Please - ah, make yourself comfortable,” you motion to the small kitchen table. The space suddenly feels small and intimate as he fills it with his size. “There’s a phone charger next to the stove. I’ll - I’ll find you  a towel.” You disappear briefly down the short hallway. When you return a minute later, he has stripped off his soaking hoodie and stands in a skin-tight white t-shirt, wet and translucent. His beautifully sculpted torso is as clear as if he had been topless. Fucking hell. Was fantasising about a celebrity lover a betrayal of your marriage?
“Can I - would you like some tea?” you stammer, trying not to stare at his beautiful frame and turning to place the kettle on the stove. When you turn back, he is examining something picked up from the table; your conference lanyard and name tag.
“Dr. y/n?” The smile he gives you has a hint of mischief. 
You laugh. “Yes, but not that kind of doctor,” you reply. “I’m a research scientist.”
“I see that,” he says, returning your lanyard to the table and taking the towel from you. 
He aggressively rubs the towel over his saturated curls, face obscured for a moment, and when he reappears he is so delightfully dishevelled that you almost moan with lust. If I could just run my fingers through those locks…
Images of him rise in you, unbidden. His face in your hands. His naked body under yours. What precious, secret sounds did he make at the height of passion? How did his perfect face contort in the moment of orgasm?
He continues to look at you intently, his face enigmatic. And so beautiful. The urge to reach out and grab his shirt - pull him towards you and feel his solid form against you, embrace him - is almost overpowering. Every filthy deed that had occurred between you in your midnight imaginings races through your mind, so loud that surely he must hear it. The wet arousal pooling between your legs leaves a warm slick between your thighs, threatening to expose you.
You make a desperate attempt to compose yourself. “Ha-,” you stammer, remembering something you want to ask him, “have you been in Padua all week?”
“Ah - yes,” he admits. “Actually, I’m glad to see you. I’ve… I’ve been thinking about you.” 
His words make you freeze. Surely that’s a lie. His face is still unreadable. 
“I wanted to apologise for… For how we parted on the train,” he continues quickly, momentarily averting his eyes, nervously licking his lips as he looks down at his large, beautiful hands. “The abruptness with which I… left.” His tone drops, and his rich, gravely voice sends another pulse of electricity through your core.
You begin to shake your head, ready to defend his right to maintain his distance from you, remind him that he owes you nothing - but your breath catches in your throat as he looks back to you, smiling gently, his eyes soft and a little… That look again. Why does he seem so sad? 
“Why did you?” You’re not sure what makes you so brazen. But the words are out before you can reconsider them.
He opens his mouth to reply, but is interrupted by a shrill whistle. You jump in shock at the intrusion, then move quickly to take the kettle off the stove. Thank the Gods, an excuse to look away from him for a moment. You weren’t sure how much more of his presence you could take before you’d need to excuse yourself for some relief…
You hear him move a second before he touches you. As his hands come to rest gently on your hips, you let out a low gasp, traitorous arousal blossoming within you, deep and iniquitous. His warm, sticky torso presses against you, and you feel the wetness of his shirt seep through yours as you grip tight to the tea cup you are holding. Your one anchor to the real world. What the fuck is happening?
When he speaks, his words are soft and deep, his mouth close to your ear. “I confess, I found myself shocked at the vulnerability I felt,” he murmurs. “All your talk of time, and living, and radio signals.” You hear the playful smile in his words, and your eyes close involuntarily. Your breath comes quick and hard, the sweet tension deep in your core pulsing and writhing like a caged animal. “And in a moment of clarity, instead of being grateful, I was… Ashamed.” He inhales deeply as though breathing you in, his lips still millimetres from your skin. “I apologise.”
The rules. Don't ask, don't tell, don't catch feelings.
You don’t speak, terrified that you might break whatever spell he is weaving. Slowly, and so, so gently, he brushes his mouth across your neck; you can feel his breath as he exhales. A wordless sound of pleasure escapes you as you roll your head back into his chest, willing him to pull you closer. To hold you. Your cunt clenches and begins to weep uncontrollably. 
“Is this alright?” he murmurs softly. Eyes still closed and involuntarily mute, you can only nod. Gently, he reaches around you and untangles your fingers from the handle of the tea cup, placing it safely on the bench top. 
The feel of his fingers on yours is like fire whiskey to your belly. Fuuuck, you want to scream, but your mouth refuses to make the sounds. You reach behind you, finding and gripping his solid thighs, and you lean into his chest as his beautiful hands explore your waist, your hips, the outer curve of your breast. His long, hard erection is pressed into your back, resting neatly above your cheeks, and his mouth continues to move wetly, assertively, across the soft skin of your neck. You are utterly lost to this moment, utterly present, as though the Universe consists only of the tiny space occupied by your bodies. 
At last you find the capacity to turn and face him. He grins at you, sweet and boyish and joyful, and you pull his face towards you, pressing your lips to his and opening your mouth to accept his exploratory tongue. Pausing to pull his still-damp shirt over his head and carelessly discard it, you let your hands travel the expanse of his chest and abdomen; every muscular, sinewy ridge and curve a new carnal delight. 
Don't... Tell...
His fingertips press into the soft curve of your ass, and suddenly he lifts you off the ground, placing you roughly on the counter. You meet his eyes and for the briefest moment you are astonished by the wildness reflected back at you, a blaze of desire and animalistic need. At the sight of him all askew with lust, you find your voice.
“F-fuck, Tom - fuck,”, you gasp, his mouth returning to suck open-mouthed kisses along your neck. “What- what happened?”
He moans deeply as you say his name. “I’ve thought of little else since I left you on the train,” he growls into the space of your clavicle, tongue still moving across your skin, leaving prickly goosebumps in its wake. 
“U-uuh ha ha,” you manage to pant out a laugh, “what an unlikely coincidence.”
He chuckles into your neck, a deep, reverberating noise that vibrates through his upper body. His hands search for the edge of your skirt, pushing it up to expose your thighs and underwear. His fingers loop into the lacy trim, deftly peeling them from you, unveiling your wet, swollen folds. He steps back momentarily to admire you. 
“May I take you upstairs?” he asks, his voice husky. You can only nod again, and in seconds he has you in his arms, your legs wrapped around him tightly as he ascends the small staircase to the mezzanine. You loosely take a handful of his luscious hair, gently pulling his face to yours and kissing him deeply once more. 
When he reaches the bed, he deposits you roughly. You hear a soft thud as he falls to his knees on the floor, then feel his large, gentle hands roam their way up your thighs again. He hooks his arms under your knees and smoothly pulls you towards him so that your ass rests at the edge of the mattress, your skirt lost way up around your hips, your slick folds exposed to him. His fingers press into your soft flesh again, and he draws long, wet kisses up your inner thighs.
He meets your eyes again for a moment. “Tell me if you want me to stop,” he says clearly, and then his face is lost from view as he places his perfect mouth on you. 
The bliss is instant and exquisite. Your fingers search for any part of him you can hold, finding purchase in his still-damp curls; you writhe as he expertly runs his tongue across your outer folds, teasing, testing. You struggle not to press your hips into him as his strong, practised tongue explores you. Slowly dipping inside you, drawing the sweet nectar from you as you fall towards the precipice of release. Finally finding that hot, hard mound of pleasure, his flat, firm tongue massaging you, lips meeting to gently suck that most sensitive bud. 
“F-fuck, yes,” you moan, lost in the rhythm of his movements, giving in to the moment, to him. “Yes, there - u-uh, right there.” 
At last, he slips his fingers inside you, twisting and scissoring before curling up to rhythmically move against the underside of your clit. It was too perfect. Your walls clenched around his wonderful fingers, the rush of climax threatening to overwhelm you.
“I’m - uugh, Tom, I’m c-coming,” you groan thickly. And powerfully, beautifully, pleasure crashes over you, wave after wave; he guides you through your blissful release with his mouth and hands, until your thudding heart gently places you back down in the world. 
You lie still for a moment, eyes closed, breathless, letting your blood settle back into your body. You open your eyes again when you feel him close to you. 
You can’t help laughing at his boyish grin, his expressive face smeared with your wet arousal as he kisses you deeply, joyfully. 
You let out a long, delicious sigh. “That was…” You trail off.
“You were exquisite, darling,” he says, finding your hand and lifting your fingers to his mouth. He presses slow kisses against your skin, leaving a trail of your own sticky residue. Flush with orgasm as you are, the term of endearment makes you want to laugh aloud.
Warm, evening light fills the apartment; the rain has cleared, and the bright sun is setting. The world continues turning, you muse absently. 
Don’t ask… Don’t tell….
Don’t think, you tell yourself sternly. Just be.
You reach out to find his body, firm and lean and obnoxiously sculpted. 
“I hope we’re not done,” you mutter, and pull him close again.
***
@gigglingtigger @coldnique @holymultiplefandomsbatman @peaches1958 @chantsdemarins @ijuststareatstuffhereok89 @vbecker10 @currish-rosewolfe @muddyorbsblr @so-easy-to-love-me @villainousshakespeare @caffiend-queen @peachyjinx @thomase1 @fictive-sl0th @simplyholl @mochie85 @lokischambermaid @sarahscribbles @joyful-enchantress @lovelysizzlingbluebird @dangertoozmanykids101
OK I lied - apparently there are three parts here. I’m not ready for them to say goodbye just yet.
Continued in Part 3
@give-me-a-moose @maple-seed
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littledogtarot · 24 days
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Pick a card for the weekend of 5/3/24–5/5/24 (Purple flowers growing in my garden edition):
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Card reveals and discussion below the read more!
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Have you ever been stressed for a long period of time, living in fear of getting sick before you reach your goal, only to get to the end unscathed, achieve what you set out to do... and immediately fall sick now that your body can finally relax? That's what the Ten of Wands reminds me of. The entire suit of wands has been building towards this goal, towards reaching great heights. When the Ten comes around, it's signifying you've finally gotten what you want. But do you still want it? The Ten of Wands represents responsibility and burdens as well as achievement. It asks if you want to continue to bear this heavy weight, or if you want to set it down and start a new cycle. You can forge a new path now, if you choose.
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The Ace of Cups is such a sweet and lovely card. Aces represent new beginnings, and cups is the suit of emotions, so the Ace of Cups represents new love, relationships, or emotional experiences. It promises hope and optimism. It may also augur a new relationship with your creativity, intuition, or craft. Love is in the air when the Ace of Cups comes up, though it may not always be romantic love, or even love directed at another person.
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The Hermit represents solitude and withdrawal for the purposes of gaining inner wisdom. It suggests retreating from everyday life for a time so that you can gain clarity and work on a task that only you can complete. It also speaks to becoming comfortable with yourself and being alone with your thoughts. The time of your withdrawal may be long or short. Whatever best helps you reach the guidance and answers you need. Remember that being alone and being lonely are not the same thing. Being alone sometimes is necessary, and it can refresh you for the journey ahead.
Deck is Light Seer's Tarot by Chris-Anne.
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