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selfless-solipsist · 16 days ago

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°˖✧ The Tea ✧˖° [Planet Janet]

「 ✦ “You ever think about therapy, Janet?”✦ 」

╰┈➤ Planet Janet x Female Reader ⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆ (Yes really)

> I tried, okay? > Also, I used the gif with Wander because I couldn't find one with ONLY Janet. Besides, it's cute.

You and Janet—what a pair. Who knew that galactic conquerors and sentient planets could bond over tea, pancakes, and a shared love of spilling the cosmic tea about everyone else? Your weekly visits to Janet's surface had become a ritual, a bizarre yet oddly soothing routine in the whirlwind of your chaotic life. Every Sunday, you would make the trek to her, perched atop your sleek starship like a villainess on a throne. As you landed, Janet would practically roll out the green carpet—literally. Vines would snake toward your feet, forming a path of flowers that seemed to sigh at your approach. The air would fill with the scent of syrup and fresh pancakes as if the universe itself conspired to make you stay.

Janet always greeted you with that same excited giggle, which you imagined was her equivalent of screaming into a pillow out of pure joy like an excited teenage girl. You were her best friend, after all, and she made sure you knew it. The cottage she had "grown" on her surface just for your visits was ridiculously cozy—almost too cozy. The walls were covered in alien floral wallpaper that changed patterns depending on her mood, and the place always smelled faintly of whatever celestial garden she had conjured that week.

“I made pancakes!” her voice would echo through the cottage as you stepped in, your heels clicking against the impossibly pristine floor. “Sit, sit! I added extra stardust sprinkles this time!” You would settle into a chair crafted from her vines—comfortable in a way that was almost unsettling—and take your plate, deadpan as ever.

“You know,” you would start, taking a bite, “if this whole ‘planet’ thing doesn’t work out, you could really rake it in as a cosmic brunch spot. These pancakes could end wars.”

Janet’s delighted giggle would practically cause earthquakes.

The two of you always got to gossiping. Janet had her opinions on everything—Maurice (her ex-moon, as she bitterly referred to him), the state of galactic politics, and especially the sheer audacity of some planets thinking they could pull off rings when they clearly didn’t have the gravity for it. And as for you? Well, you had plenty to share about the overly dramatic exploits of the so-called “villains” you occasionally crushed in your spare time. Your dry delivery always sent Janet into adorable fits of hysterics.

Today, though, the gossip session had taken a bizarre turn.

As you casually recounted the ridiculous antics of a wannabe overlord whose “evil laugh” sounded more like a goat in distress, her vines had slowly but surely wrapped around your arms, legs, and waist. By the time you noticed, you were cocooned like a fly in a spider’s web.

“Janet,” you said flatly, raising an unimpressed eyebrow. “Is this about me leaving again?”

Her voice came out soft and wheedling, like a child caught stealing snacks. “I just don’t want you to go... I mean, don’t you like it here? You’re my best friend!”

You sighed, leaning your head back against the vines as if they were a hammock. “We’ve talked about this. You can’t just kidnap your friends. It’s... weird.”

“I’m not kidnapping you!” she protested, vines tightening just a smidge. “I’m... giving you a hug!”

“Uh-huh. And I suppose you’ll be serving pancakes directly to my face next?” The sound of plates clinking made you glance down. Sure enough, a vine was extending a forkful of syrup-soaked pancake toward your mouth. Unfazed, you took the bite. “Okay, points for effort.”

Janet squealed in delight, the entire surface of her planet rumbling like she had just won an award. “See? You’re so happy here! Why don’t you just stay forever?”

“Because I have planets to conquer and people to terrify,” you said, deadpan. “I can’t do that from your cozy vine-chair.”

Her voice turned playful but with an edge. “Oh, I don’t know... I think you could terrify quite a lot of people just by calling this place your new home base. Imagine the fear! ‘The villainess who lives on a sentient planet!’”

You snorted. “Janet, you’re starting to sound like Maurice.”

One whine snapped like a whip.

“Don’t you dare compare me to him!” she snapped, vines twitching in a way that suggested she might fling you into the stratosphere.

“Touchy,” you said, completely unbothered. “What happened this time? Did he park in your orbit without permission again?”

“He said my volcanoes were overkill! Can you believe that? Overkill!”

“Well, Janet... you did incinerate that asteroid last week because it ‘looked smug.’”

“It was smug!” she huffed. “Just floating there, acting like it was too good to get caught in my gravity!”

...

“You’re... definitely over him,” you deadpanned.

Janet went suspiciously quiet for a moment, her vines loosening just enough for you to stretch a leg. You knew better than to press further, but the little smile tugging at your lips said it all. If nothing else, the pancakes would keep you distracted from her possessive streak—or so you thought. She huffed, and the vines holding your arms tightened, almost like a passive-aggressive hug. “Why do you always bring him up? Maurice this, Maurice that. I’ve moved on!”

You arched an eyebrow. “Oh, totally. That’s why you have a crater on your northern hemisphere shaped like a frowny face. Real subtle, Janet.”

“That’s not a frown!” she shrieked, her voice reverberating through the air like a scorned diva at a karaoke night. “It’s modern art! You wouldn’t understand—it’s planet feelings!”

“Sure," You smirked. “Just like it wasn’t weird last week when you redirected a meteor to crash into him for ‘accidentally’ calling your oceans lukewarm.”

“He deserved it!” she snapped, vines flailing dramatically in sync with her voice. “I’m not lukewarm! My oceans are a perfect 78 degrees, with a light saline breeze!”

“And yet,” you said, as calm as a supernova before it explodes, “here we are. You, a sentient planet, and me, a mildly kidnapped villainess, discussing your volcanic breakup like we’re on some galactic talk show.”

Janet let out a melodramatic sigh, the ground rumbling beneath you. Flowers popped out of the soil, as if her emotions manifested as floral overcompensation. “I just want to be appreciated, you know? I put so much effort into everything! My waterfalls, my sunsets, my pancakes—”

“Your pancakes are phenomenal,” you said, mostly to stop her rant. A vine fed you another syrup-drenched bite before you could refuse.

“I know, right?” She preened. “Do you think Maurice ever complimented my pancakes? No! He always said things like, ‘Too much syrup, Janet,’ or ‘You can’t serve pancakes to a comet—it doesn’t have a mouth!’ He didn’t get me.”

“Yeah, Maurice is a real jerk,” you agreed around a mouthful of pancake. “But, y’know, he was your moon. Kind of literally made for you.”

Janet gasped in exaggerated offense. “Made for me? MADE FOR ME?! I’m a planet! I have billions of options! BILLIONS! You’re lucky I even let you visit—” She cut herself off, her vines quickly shifting to a far-too-gentle cradle around you. “I mean, not that I’d ever let you leave. But it’s totally not weird, right?”

“Oh, no,” you said flatly, sipping from a vine that somehow held a dainty teacup. “It’s perfectly normal to be smothered by your bestie every time you try to leave. I’m sure everyone would love being planet-wrapped. So cozy.”

Janet giggled, missing the sarcasm entirely. “See? You get me. That’s why you’re my favorite.”

“Favorite... what? Human? Friend? Pancake-eater?”

“Everything,” She replied, a suspicious amount of sincerity in her tone. Her surface glimmered in what could only be described as a planetary blush, soft hues of pink and green rippling across her landscapes.

You raised a single eyebrow, unimpressed. “You’re not trying to butter me up so I’ll stay longer, are you?”

“Me? Never!” She said, giggling nervously as her vines tightened again—just slightly. “But, uh... since we’re talking about it, you could just stay. You’re way too good for all those other boring planets.”

“Janet.” You tilted your head, voice dripping with deadpan calm. “I’m not moving in.”

“I didn’t say move in,” she shot back, clearly flustered. “I just meant, y’know... permanent visits!”

“Mm-hmm.” You looked at the vines still wrapped around you. “Because you’re so good at letting people leave.” Janet opened her metaphorical mouth to protest, but you cut her off with a pointed glance. “Look. I’ll always stay a bit for the pancakes. I’ll even stay to listen to you vent about Maurice and how he ‘never appreciated your tectonic activity.’ But at some point, I do have to get back to my evil empire.”

“But I’m lonely!” She wailed, her voice echoing through the atmosphere like a soap opera star delivering a tragic monologue. “Do you know how hard it is being a planet? The endless void of space, the silence, the meteor showers that no one even compliments me on? And then Maurice—”

“Okay, okay!” You rolled your eyes, unable to stop the smirk tugging at your lips. “You can keep me wrapped up in vines for, like, five more minutes. But after that, I am leaving. Probably.”

Janet sniffled dramatically, flowers blooming at your feet in response. “You mean it? Five whole minutes?”

“Yeah,” you deadpanned. “Just don’t forget to feed me pancakes while you monologue. Kidnapping always works better with snacks.”

She squealed in delight, her vines pulling you into an overly enthusiastic embrace. “You’re the best! I’ll make more syrup right now! Oh, oh, do you want a blueberry topping this time? Maybe some whipped nebula cream?”

“Surprise me,” you said with a sigh, leaning back into the cushy vines. “I’m already wrapped up in this mess, anyway.”

Her vines loosened just enough for you to adjust your position, which now felt less like a hostage situation and more like a bizarre spa treatment. One particularly enthusiastic vine fluffed your hair like a cosmic hairstylist who had overcaffeinated, while another twirled a napkin around your neck in preparation for what could only be described as round two of the Pancake Situation. “Whipped nebula cream and blueberry topping it is!” She declared, her voice a bubbly mix of excitement and the faintly unhinged energy you had come to expect. The ground beneath you shifted, a small geyser of syrup bubbling up from nowhere. “I’ll make this stack extra special. Only the best for my bestie!”

“You mean your only bestie,” you corrected, expressionless as ever. “Unless you’ve started taking applications.”

She let out an exaggerated gasp, the kind that made the whole atmosphere shiver. “You wound me! Like I’d let anyone else steal my best friend!” The vines squeezed you slightly—just enough to feel the weight of her emotional gravity, pun fully intended.

You groaned, though the corner of your mouth twitched upward. “Janet, if you keep acting like this, people are going to start calling you that planet. The clingy one.”

“I am NOT clingy!” she shot back, her tone defensive as wildflowers erupted around your chair.

“I’m... selective.”

“Right. Because wrapping me up in vines like a burrito is totally normal behavior.”

“It’s called affection!” she huffed. “Maybe if you weren’t so busy conquering every galaxy with your scary villain smirk, you’d get more of it.”

Your sly smile widened even more, because of course it did. “Oh, Janet, sweetie. I don’t get affection. I command it.”

Her laugh rumbled across the surface like rolling thunder. “And yet here you are, letting me feed you pancakes and braid your hair like a galactic princess.”

“Braid my—” You froze, finally noticing the intricate, alien floral pattern her vines had been weaving into your hair. “Janet!”

“What? It’s cute! You look like royalty.” She paused, a vine plucking a mirror from somewhere (where did she even store these things?) and holding it in front of you. “See? You’re glowing!”

You stared at your reflection, the deadpan expression on your face now juxtaposed with what could only be described as the most elaborate cosmic updo in the history of villainy. There were glowing flowers, swirling patterns, and even a little ribbon made of stardust. “Well,” you said after a long pause, “if I’m going to be an unwilling planet prisoner, I might as well look fabulous.”

“That’s the spirit!” Janet squealed, the landscape shimmering with excitement. “You always know how to make me laugh!”

“Yeah, I’m a real riot,” you said dryly, reaching for another pancake. “Hey, speaking of laughter, let’s talk about Maurice again. Remember the time he—”

Janet’s entire surface trembled, vines waving like an exasperated drama queen shooing away bad memories. “Ugh! Must we bring him up again? He’s so... so lunar!”

“Lunar?” you repeated, arching an eyebrow. “That’s an insult now?”

“Yes!” she snapped, voice tinged with melodrama. “He’s cold, distant, and always orbiting other things. Do you know how many asteroids he’s been hanging out with lately? Asteroids! They don’t even have atmospheres!”

You snorted. “Sounds like he’s rebounding pretty hard.”

Janet made a sound that was somewhere between a scoff and an actual volcanic eruption. “Good riddance. Let him chase his dumb little space rocks while I—while we—live our best lives.”

“Uh-huh.” You leaned back, letting her vines drape over you like a weighted blanket. “And by ‘best lives,’ you mean trapping your bestie every time she tries to leave?”

“It’s not trapping,” she insisted, although the vines around your ankles said otherwise. “It’s quality time!”

“Sure it is,” you muttered, eyeing the syrup geyser that was now accompanied by a fountain of nebula cream. “You ever think about therapy, Janet?”

“Therapy?!” She recoiled like you had suggested she downsize her volcanoes. “I don’t need therapy! I’m perfectly well-adjusted for a sentient celestial body! Besides, I have you!”

“And there it is,” You raised a fork as a vine elegantly served you another pancake. “Just promise me you won’t sprout another ‘Welcome ___ Forever!’ topiary when I leave.”

She giggled nervously, a suspicious patch of vines shuffling as though trying to hide something.

...

You narrowed your eyes. “Janet...”

“It’s tasteful!” she defended quickly, sounding every bit like someone caught decorating their crush’s locker with glittery hearts. “And besides, you’ll be back next week for pancakes anyway, so what’s the harm?”

You sighed, unable to argue with that logic. After all, who could resist a planet with gourmet pancake skills, top-notch hair braiding, and just the right amount of possessive insanity to keep things interesting? Not you, apparently. “Fine,” you said, a smirk tugging at your lips. “But if you start naming craters after me, we’re gonna have a talk.”

Her vines tightened briefly in what you assumed was her version of a mischievous hug.

As the pancakes dwindled and the conversation mellowed into a comfortable rhythm, you leaned back into her vine-crafted throne, your eyes half-lidded in a syrup-induced haze. Despite her dramatic tendencies and occasional bouts of mildly possessive planetary behavior, Janet had a charm that was impossible to deny. Maybe it was her optimism. Maybe it was the way her laugh echoed like wind through a meadow. Or maybe it was the fact that she could whip up five-star brunch in the middle of nowhere. Either way, you were… fond of her. Not that you would ever admit it aloud in a way that wasn’t laced with your signature sarcasm.

“You know,” She began, her voice soft and thoughtful, “I don’t really say it enough, but… having you here makes everything better. Like, I used to think stars were the best thing about space, but now… I think it’s you.”

You blinked, stunned into a rare moment of silence. The only sound was the gentle rustling of her vines as they rearranged themselves into a cozy blanket over your shoulders. “Janet,” you said slowly, “if I didn’t know any better, I’d say you’re flirting with me.”

“Flirting? Me?!” she gasped, vines wriggling like a schoolgirl caught passing notes. “I—okay, maybe a little! But can you blame me? You’re brilliant, you’re confident, and you eat my pancakes like they’re the only thing keeping you alive.”

“Well,” you said, smirking, “they kind of are. Your cooking’s the only thing keeping me from taking over the universe twice as fast.”

Janet giggled, her surface glowing faintly with soft greens and pinks. “That’s all I’ve ever wanted, really. To be… important to someone.”

“You’re more than important,” you said, surprising even yourself with the sincerity in your voice. “I mean, who else would braid my hair, feed me pancakes, and try to keep me as their personal space prisoner all in one day?”

“I knew you got me,” Janet said, her voice dripping with affection. “You always do.”

You looked down, spotting one of her roses growing near your armrest. Its petals opened wide, its soft pink glow shimmering like it was daring you to make a move. You reached out and gently cupped the bloom, tilting it toward you like a hand to kiss. “If this is your equivalent of a cheek,” you muttered, more to yourself than anything, “then… yeah, why not?” Before you could second-guess yourself, you leaned down and pressed a soft kiss to the petal. The rose immediately sparkled, its glow intensifying until it bathed you both in light. The vines around you trembled like Janet had just been told the juiciest gossip in the universe.

“Y-you kissed me!” she stammered, her voice rising an octave. “You actually kissed me!”

“Don’t get used to it,” you said, though the flush creeping up your neck betrayed your nonchalant delivery. “I don’t go around kissing planets every day.”

Janet squealed—an actual, full-on squeal of pure joy. Flowers burst into bloom across her surface, their petals opening like a cosmic fireworks display. “Oh, my molten core, you’re so cute when you’re flustered! Do it again! No, wait—don’t! I mean, do if you want to, but only if you feel like it—”

“Janet,” you interrupted, amused. “Calm down. I’m not going anywhere.”

“You promise?” Her voice was soft, almost vulnerable.

You sighed, leaning back and letting her vines settle around you like a warm hug. “I promise. For now, anyway. But only because you’re bribing me with pancakes.”

She giggled again, her glow softening into a gentle shimmer. “I’ll take it. For now.”

And as you sat there, wrapped in vines, sipping tea made of stardust and stealing glances at her glowing surface, you couldn’t help but think: maybe being a planet’s favorite wasn’t so bad after all.

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oreramar · 10 months ago

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Florist Talk: a flower shop calendar

So I talked about the average day in a flower shop. Now it's time to talk about the average year (usual disclaimer: US-centric, small town sort of knowledge is to be found here. Adjust as needed for a different setting, whether real or fictional; these notes are merely meant to provide grounding or ideas for your writing).

So, Month By Month:

January

Business is basically dead for most of this month.

It's too early for springy colors but nobody wants the red and white Xmas color combo anymore. Floral limbo.

Prep for V-day begins in earnest sometime around here.

Earliest V-day orders might start coming in middle-to-end of the month. Sometimes people think ordering super early means they can get roses for cheaper. This is not the case; they will be charged the price of the roses they're gonna get, not the roses that exist a month before.

February

VALENTINE'S DAY ALL HANDS ON DECK OH GOD SOMEONE HELP US

A longer post will be dedicated to V-day itself eventually. For now, know that there's usually a lull in business immediately after the day itself.

There may be leftover roses. Nobody will want the leftover roses. If your Florbo over-ordered these supplies, they will have a difficult time shifting them. Write a fic and have them donate roses to an elderly care facility or something.

March

Kinda dead for the most part, aside from a little bit of prep toward Palm Sunday and Easter and Prom (see April)

I always make stuff for St Patrick's day but very few people want flowers for St Patrick's day so there's not much point. Maybe this could be different in a community with more people who go all in on St Paddy's.

When there are orders, this is when people start to ask for "springy" flowers.

April

If there are Christian Churches around they might want Easter Lilies ordered in for Easter, and Palm Branches for Palm Sunday.

Sometimes people will ask for flowering mum plants too, usually in white, yellow, or lavender. The wholesalers always seem to send way more lavender mums than any others, like they're trying to get rid of them.

Prom Season - technically can stretch from mid-late March through April. Depends on how many high schools are in the area. This means lots of corsages and boutonnieres. If there's a single big school that's very local then that means one very, very busy weekend spent doing nothing but assembling these things the day before and getting them picked up and paid for the day of. Might make a focused post on these one day.

Secretary's Day / Administrative Professionals' Day - late April. Technically there's a Day for this but it also covers the entire week of that day as well. Businesses and Bosses buy small flowers or maybe candy bouquets for their various Admins. Can get a little busy.

May

Teachers Appreciation Day / Week - early in May, lots of school deliveries.

Nurses Appreciation Day/Week - the next week in May, lots of hospital/clinic deliveries.

MOTHER'S DAY OH GOD OH - oh it's not quite as bad, actually. People get their Mother's Day flowers the entire week before so it's less concentrated. Still a big one.

US has Memorial Day right at the end. This means arrangements made for placing in the local cemetery. Can be busy but isn't usually too bad.

June

Dead business. So bored.

July

Dead business. So bored.

Attempt at July 4th table arrangements. Not many tend to sell.

August

Dead business. So bored.

September

School is back in session, which means that any student, teacher, or school admin staff who has a birthday or anniversary on a weekday might get sent flowers or balloons or candy bouquets or things like that, which means Flower Shop business.

Preferred floral designs shift toward "fall" and "autumny" colors and flowers somewhere between August and September.

October

Not a lot going on specifically, but business still tends to be busier than in summer. Also, despite all efforts, Halloween does not tend to involve a lot of flower orders, which is a real shame because you can do some real fun things with orange, purple, and bright green flowers, and with hot glue strands on twigs to make cobwebs, and with black painted bowl vases to resemble cauldrons...

November

US has Thanskgiving this month and some people want fancy flower and taper candle centerpieces for their tables. A responsible florist will include tags warning people not to burn those candles unattended because while the floral arrangement isn't going to be dry by any means, it is still technically flammable, especially if the candle has burned very low and for a very long time.

December

Christmas also involves fancy flower and taper candle centerpieces for tables. Also like 80% of all floral arrangements are being done in red and/or white.

And that's more or less it. Set your writing appropriately for how busy you want the Florbo to be with their flower job - if the plot demands Florbo have a lot of free time or be very very bored, look at the summer months, or the downtime of early January or late February. If you wish for them to be overwhelmingly busy, set it the week before Valentine's or Mother's day, or pick an April weekend for a local Prom and give them like forty corsages to make on a single Friday. A more moderate or variable day to day structure might be in May, or one of the Autumn months, when there's usually plenty of everyday type stuff to do plus the wild card busy days around big funerals or the like, with random dead days peppered in there.

Happy writing!

#florist talk #a flower shop's year

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stusbunker · 1 year ago

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Spotless: Lontano

Chapter Seven

Featuring: Dean Winchester/Reader, Dean/Bela

Other characters: Crowley(mentioned), Sam, Annie, Madison, Lee, Gibson (child OMC), Pamela, Kevin, Bobby, Claire and Krissy

Word Count: 2250

Warnings, etc: Mutual pining, Reader is left in the dark (for now), Reader's lack of self esteem, Pamela being kind of blunt, hinted past Sam/Annie, unbeta'd

Series Masterlist

Divider courtesy of @cafekitsune

You laid in bed staring at the burst of sunlight sprouting out of your valances. You did not want to get up, or check your phone. It was a rare, quiet Sunday morning and you had no plans besides laundry. Bela had a big event the night before, so you weren’t meeting for brunch, for which you were kind of grateful. It felt like you had been staring at her face all week anyway, as much as you had been scrolling for chatter about her and Dean. You groaned and buried yourself beneath your comforter.

The outside world could wait for another few minutes, not to mention the constant nagging worry of work could fuck right off.

Because that’s all this anxiety was, work stress. The pressure from the label felt like it weighed solely on your shoulders, despite the band’s extended recording schedule for the new album and everyone’s thinning patience with Dean’s perfectionism. There was nothing else even going on in your life that could even compare. You were probably dehydrated. You shifted to peek out of your covers to find your water bottle empty on your nightstand, oh well.

Eventually, you got up, went about your business, and started a pot of coffee. Resigned to checking your phone while the coffee brewed, you shuffled back to your bedroom to pull it off the charger. Before you could even begin to sort through your text notifications, a headline alert glared at you from your lock screen. Panic flooded your uncaffeinated mind and you clicked on the link.

Gaping, you scrolled through the short article about the benefit filled with speculation about Dean’s presence at Bela’s side. You backed out of that article and dove into the rest of your updates. The pictures were fantastic, filled with easy smiles and casual touches. Dean in a tux was a rare thing, but he kept up his end of the bargain and dressed to match Bela’s standards. Your brain still stuttered over seeing them together, two parts of your life that hadn’t really overlapped until now. A silent ‘how was I not there?’ popping up as you continued to scroll.

The shrill beeping of the coffee pot pulled your eyes off your phone and back into the kitchen around you. It was just after ten, and you had to stop yourself from texting Dean or Bela an interrogation length message each. For the most part, the publicity seemed positive and more than curious about these two from such different worlds.

Was it actually working?!

You inhaled and finally poured yourself a mug, letting the hope fizzle in your chest as you sat down at your desk and really began to dig. Sometime after one, you were pulled out of your email inbox by the doorbell. Who in the hell? Dumbfounded, you threw on a hoodie as you rushed to answer the door. You had to kick the rug because it always folded on itself underneath the lip of the door. Grunting, you gave up, sticking your head out to answer a disinterested floral delivery driver.

“Uh, I’ve got flowers for Ms. Y/L/N?” They checked their tablet.

“That’s me,” you said, straightening up to look at the bundled bouquet as they handed you the stylus to sign confirmation of the delivery. You had no idea who would be sending you flowers, and it definitely wasn’t your birthday.

“Alright, that’s all I need. Here ya go,” they said, presenting the vase to you with the practiced ease of a single balanced hand. “Have a good one.”

You took the flowers, which you could smell through the paper barrier and watched them get back into their truck and back out of the narrow driveway that no one ever used. Confused, you set the package down on your kitchen table and started to tear out the perfectly spaced staples. They were gorgeous, lilies in whites and oranges. Tucked into the ribbon tied around the vase was a handwritten card.

Keep up the good work. Regards, Crowley

“You’ve got to be freakin’ kidding me!” you balked. You checked the back of the card, there was no ‘gotcha’, it really was from the label exec. You set the card down face up, resting beside the vase and snapped a picture. No one was going to believe you, you needed the proof, right?

You told yourself it wasn’t bragging, no matter how smug it made you feel.

The adoption event was something the band did every year, helping Annie (and now Madison, too) with a pre-holiday push to clear out the animal shelter and also spend time with adorable animals. Sam was in heaven, taking dogs through the yard, parading the dogs along the side of the building in the makeshift track, and running around with the excitable pups. Madison mained the welcome table while Annie oversaw a lot of the paperwork inside, helping people get approved and matched with pets that would fit each prospective adopter’s lifestyles and hopes.

The staff knew everyone by reputation, though Sam had been a regular volunteer since before Madison had even been hired on as a receptionist. So, they helped you all get eased into your rolls for the day, however informal they were. Lee brought Gibson along and they were making small talk with a family as the mother filled out forms. Kevin, new to the event, stood back and waited to be told what to do. Bobby kept the breakroom and the waiting room stocked with coffee and pastries. Though Dean’s allergies and his unwillingness to budge on his no pets rule with Sam meant he always bowed out, you knew he was a regular not-so-anonymous donor.

Which left you and Pamela in the cat room, playing with a litter of kittens that were too young to be adopted out this round, but were all the more frisky with all the excitement buzzing around the shelter.

“Oh my god, hello, tough stuff! Aren’t you the biter?!” Pamela cooed at a gray tiger who was overly fond of her jewelry.

“No fiercer a predator was there ever,” you agreed, dangling a stick with feathers on the end in front of its sleeker, paler littermate.

After a few minutes Pamela leaned back and let the kitten attempt to scale her lap. “God, I needed this. This album— fuck, it’s been brutal,” she sighed.

Worry clouded your thoughts, but you knew better than to ever say the first thing that came to your mind around Pamela, she always read between the lines.

“Everything going okay?” you asked, hearing about the sessions from Dean was one thing. He may be the lead singer, but he really was only one dude in a band of five differing personalities.

Pamela huffed and tilted her head, you felt like she was measuring your capacity for the truth. “The sound is good. We’re meshing. It’s just— since Cas leaving for that ephemeral crap or whatever that pipsqueak is calling it— Dean’s been on edge about every fucking thing. And Lee’s offered to help, hell he’s got a half dozen songs ready to go, but—”

“Dean feels like he has to do it all himself,” you finished for her.

“And he’s being a complete martyr about it.”

You nestled a kitten against your chest and hummed, ruffling its ears as you thought. You hadn’t really talked to Dean all week, after all the publicity you had to sift through after Bela’s event and trying to line things up with Meg at Rolling Stone, finally. You couldn’t have known any of this, since you were so separate from that part of the process.

“And no offense, but this friend of yours? Was it really the best timing? He’s just getting his groove back— he doesn’t need more distractions,” Pamela tacked on in her no-nonsense way.

You couldn’t stop your eyebrows from raising in surprise, because this was coming from the woman who had married and divorced her bandmate multiple times. But Lee wasn’t Dean, and you knew they still played their parts despite whatever was going on at home. The band came first, well, after Gibson.

You told yourself it was Sam that agreed it was best to keep it from the band, the extra pressure you had inadvertently put on Dean. You knew you had to toe that line.

“Dean’s a big boy, Pamela. If you think he needs to loosen up, you gotta tell him. He listens to you more than anybody, probably even Sam. Especially when it comes to music stuff. Bela and him— that’s his business. I’m not even sure how serious it is, as much as I love them both—.”

Pamela chuckled, breaking your momentum, but you pushed on.

“I’m staying a neutral party. I can’t really play matchmaker and then question if it’s a good idea. They can make their own choices.”

Another kitten crawled into your lap and you set the one you had been holding down next to it, so they could play. You felt Pamela watching you with her knowing eyes and from experience you knew she was going to continue to throw you for a loop with whatever she said next.

“Now who’s playing the martyr?”

You sighed and looked back at her, and luckily it seemed like she was at least teasing and not being snide. One of the kitten’s claws dug through your jeans and you yelped, pulling it off of your thigh. You stood to put it back in the crate with the rest of the litter.

“Just talk to him, he’ll let Lee get a song down, I can almost guarantee it.”

You gazed down at the innocent fur balls and wished your life held more silly little pleasures than it did. But you knew you didn’t deserve it, deep down.

You dragged out your phone and snapped some pictures of the kittens, then held it up to Pamela in question. She nodded and snuggled her kitten against her cheek, scrunching up her face for the shelter website. You’d send all of your shots to Annie later, let her pick and choose how to celebrate the event and advertise for next year.

Throughout the day, you got plenty of shots of the band with animals and the workers sending happy families off with new fur members. The day was winding down, but you stuck around to help anyway you could. You wiped down the breakroom table as Sam hauled the last of the pastries out to Bobby’s truck to bring home for Dean and to the studio if they lasted until Monday.

You tried not to pay attention when two of the younger staff members came in muttering, the blonde girl making the brunette openly gape.

“No way! Grossssssssss.”

“Shut up, she’s still got it, for her age.”

The brunette sighed and shook her head. “Sure, I guess, but didn’t she like set them up?”

The blonde shook her head. “I don’t think so, he was just here a lot when his brother was being a dick, and then Madison and him like bonded over shit.”

After that you couldn’t help but listen, because they were obviously talking about Sam.

“Besides the thing with Annie was like forever ago, she’s been married for like three years or something and Madison just started here over the summer,” the blonde seemed unfazed by the amount of gossip she was conveying.

“I guess I just didn’t think about how well everyone knows each other.”

“That’s one way of putting it,” the blonde smirked.

Lee chose that moment to come into the breakroom with Gibson thrown over his shoulder, but the crook in his eyebrow told you he knew the college kids were being snarky. “Hey, Trouble, you ready to go? Little man here said his Uncle Dean told him everybody could come over for grub.”

The girls seemed to freeze in place, having not noticed your presence. You looked around the room, checking to see if it was cleaned up enough to call it a day. “Uh–”

You had no reason to bail on the band, but you had been looking forward to a night alone at your place. As lame as that seemed for a Saturday night, something was telling you that you’d make an idiot of yourself if you were left alone in Dean’s presence, or even Sam’s after the juicy details you’d just heard.

“I’ve actually got to get home and start sorting through the photos, but thanks for the offer.”

Lee’s face changed, bright eyes squinting in suspicion, but Gibson started to struggle. “You sure?” he asked, flipping his son over in front of him so he was back on his feet facing you, a giggling, miniature version of himself standing guard.

You looked down at the six-year-old and couldn’t help but grin. “Buddy, will you tell your Uncle Dean that I’m busy working and I’ll see him later?”

Gibson nodded excitedly, showing off the gap where he’d lost a tooth, and gave you the thumbs up, happy to play messenger for his favorite uncle.

Lee spun towards the door, guiding Gibson at his side, “I guess that means it’s just us in the car cuz Mom’s already headed out. Later, Trouble!”

You shook your head at the adorableness and pulled out your phone to order a ride. Sometimes it was a real pain not driving by yourself, but you made your peace with never getting behind a wheel again long ago.

Tagging: @deans-spinster-witch@mrswhozeewhatsis@cosicas-cuquis@fics-pics-andotherthings-i-like@suckitands33@ladysparkles78@deans-baby-momma@stoneyggirl2@sassy-pelican@leigh70@globetrotter28

Chapter Seven: Lilt

#spotless series #dean winchester fanfiction #dean/reader #dean/bela #rockstar au #fake dating #slow burn #angst #spn au #supernatural fanfiction #au series

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acupofqueercoffee · 2 years ago

Text

“Messages for her, hidden in the flowers”

𝐋𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐚 𝐖𝐞𝐞𝐦𝐬 𝐱 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

▸ 𝐘𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐨𝐰 𝐓𝐮𝐥𝐢𝐩𝐬

▸ 𝐏𝐢𝐧𝐤 𝐂𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐚𝐬

▸ 𝐑𝐞𝐝 𝐂𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 : 𝐚𝐥𝐚𝐬, 𝐦𝐲 𝐩𝐨𝐨𝐫 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐚𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐬

▸ 𝐖𝐡𝐢𝐭𝐞 𝐂𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬 : 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐤 𝐨𝐟 𝐦𝐞

SMUT INCOMING!!! i’m sad to say this ain’t my greatest smut tho 😭

@theregoesyourlifeagain @winterfireblond @weemssapphic

On the morning of Sunday, a parcel arrives to the doorstep of your floral boutique; an elegant box, rosy in colour and rectangular in shape; beautifully wrapped with a long red ribbon that flourishes into a big bow atop the velveteen lid.

You could not believe it when your name has reached your ears in the voice of the delivery person. Even when they have asked for your signature, you were still in scepticism. It is only when a perfumed card greets you upon unravelling the ribbon are you convinced that yes, you are indeed the recipient of such sweet surprise.

[ 𝐿𝒾𝓉𝓉𝓁𝑒 𝒻𝓁𝑜𝓇𝒾𝓈𝓉 𝑜𝒻 𝓂𝒾𝓃𝑒,. 𝐼 𝒽𝑜𝓅𝑒 𝓂𝓎 𝓅𝓇𝑒𝓈𝑒𝓃𝓉 𝓈𝓊𝒾𝓉𝓈 𝓎𝑜𝓊𝓇 𝒻𝒶𝓃𝒸𝓎. 𝐼’𝓁𝓁 𝓈𝑒𝑒 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝒶𝓉 𝓈𝑒𝓋𝑒𝓃,. 𝒽𝑜𝓅𝑒𝒻𝓊𝓁𝓁𝓎 𝒾𝓃 𝓉𝒽𝒾𝓈 𝓁𝒾𝓉𝓉𝓁𝑒 𝓈𝑜𝓂𝑒𝓉𝒽𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝐼’𝓋𝑒 𝓅𝓇𝑒𝓅𝒶𝓇𝑒𝒹 𝒻𝑜𝓇 𝓎𝑜𝓊. ] — 𝐿.𝒲

Short as it is, the lovely note that has warmth blooming inside your chest has served as a little window into your partner for the night. Once again, you learn that Larissa Weems is an outrageous flirt, an enchantress, a woman who is capable of ruining you with the first strokes of her pen. She certainly is a woman of poise for even in her handwriting, her grace and sophistication can be easily perceived. Neat would be an understatement to describe the cursive. Fine, decidedly, but not quite the word you are looking for. The words that your eyes have been voraciously consuming are teeming with allure, spellbinding in the same way the wordsmith is.

The lettering is not entirely without flaws for there are dots where there should not be, although you suppose that is what gives it character. It is, after all, not just any note, but rather a note from her. You can just imagine those mesmerisingly long fingers pausing mid sentence to let her mind wander. You hope rather stupidly, selfishly that it is you whom her mind has wandered off to as you usually find yours behaving the same way towards her.

A tentalising trace of fragrance that delightfully teases your nose as the card moves with your hand is so unequivocally her, and the realisation that it does not come scented, but rather the perfume has been intentionally sprayed onto the paper, undoubtedly by the woman herself, sprinkles your cheeks with cherry redness. Accompanying the busy buzz of your pulse is a goofy smile that slithers across your lips, and a giggle that bubbles in your throat, all gleeful and childlike.

Your eyes then are drawn towards, as she has mysteriously put it, the little something she has prepared for you. Neatly tucked into the velveteen box is a dress in the mellowest hue of pearly pink. It shimmers in the light, and when you touch it, the satin is so soft that it easily slips through your fingers. The dress, once it has been donned, is equally smooth against your skin, not too tight yet not too loose, caressing your body in all the right places.

Resting atop the folded dress as it has been, the faint scent of her perfume lingers on the smooth satin. With the charming aroma comes a tingling rush of memories: a bold hand on your hip, a sticky press of her painted lips as she gives you a chaste farewell kiss on the cheek. Such is how the two of you have parted after your little impromptu brunch not-quite-a-date.

Moreover, when you have expressed your cluelessness to the location of the Nevermore Academy, gracious Madam Principal has happily offered to come collect you. You, of course, have had no reasons to turn down her proposal. Getting to spend even more time with her on top of passing the night on her arms is like being able to have your cake and be eating it too.

And now, you stand, all dolled up and jolly, before the woman who puts renaissance sculptures to shame. Her sapphire gaze is searing as she eyes you interestingly, not even bothering an attempt to hide her staring. Unable to tame your wildly beating heart, you instead make a gesture at your attire.

“You shouldn’t have.”

“I wanted to.” She gives you a smile, all warm and knee-weakening. “Do you like it?”

“Oh, I love it.” And then, more sheepishly, you confess. “I’m only afraid that I’m not doing it any justice.”

“Nonsense!” Her response is immediate, adamant, arrestingly long legs moving methodically, and before you know it, she is standing so close to you. “You look positively ravishing.”

Her eyes then descend upon the bouquet between the two of your bodies. The flowers for today are red carnations and white clovers. As you realise that your attraction towards her is not something that will simply go away with time, you are getting bolder with your secret messages.

“Flowers for you.”

“Oh darling, you continue to warm my little anthophile heart. Thank you.”

To say you are brimming with warmth as she takes the bouquet into her arms with a hearty smile would be an understatement.

“Well, shall we?”

All too gladly, you take her hand when she offers it. As usual, her fingers are protected by a glove, and the leather is as luxuriously soft as you remember.

The better part of the ride is spent in comfortable silence, with you appreciating the woody scenery as music from the radio plays softly in the background. Every now and then, you can hear her humming along to the songs that she recognises. It makes you smile.

“I’m curious, how do you know my size?”

“Well darling,…” Her response begins with a mirthful lilt. “…let’s just say I do have a keen eye for detail.”

The implication that she must have taken a good look at your body to notice such finer details makes you melt, a feeling equal parts pleasure and excitement consuming you as the apple of your cheeks turns a vibrant red.

I’m starving, darling. Let me put my lips to something…

Suddenly comes the low timbre of Hozier, and along with a sudden dryness in your mouth, pure unholy thoughts run amok around your mind. Fire meets gasoline once you peek a look at the woman beside you, and catch sight of a pink tip of a tongue caressing the full arch of her lips. Needless to say, the rest of the ride, too, is spent in silence, but with you doing your damnedest not to let your mind in the gutter.

The Nevermore Academy truly is one of breathtaking beauty. As soon as the vehicle enters the school grounds, you are awestruck by its gothic architecture. Once parked, your partner does not lead you straight to where the festivities are, but rather, she takes you to her office that you quickly discover is as magnificent as the rest of the Academy, otherworldly and grandiose as befits the majesty of the headmistress.

After she has invited you into her dwelling, you cannot help but take a moment to marvel at the beauty and uniqueness of the fireplace. In the silence of the room save for the soft crackling of fire eating wood, a hand soon finds you on your shoulder, and when you turn, it lingers, ghosting along the length of your arm to eventually, gently take your hand in hers. The touch of smooth leather on the little hummingbird flutter of your pulse is rather electrifying as lithe fingers go to lace a ribbon across your wrist.

It is a little bouquet in the form of a bracelet.

“Not as remarkable as your lovely gifts, but-”

“Nonsense.” You shush her with a hand on her wrist, holding her gentle gaze. “Whatever you give me, I’ll treasure it.”

And suddenly, the beauty of the moment is disrupted by the loud ringing of a telephone. Apparently, there is an emergence of something that requires the presence of the principal.

Together, the both of you exit her office, and together, you walk abreast along the corridors of the enchanting academy. It is only when you have reached the ballroom that she leaves you alone with a tentalisingly sultry “I won’t be long, darling.”

You spend the entirety of the time wishing for Larissa to be here, but once she is, you wish she has not seen you. Having been requested a dance from someone, you have agreed when you think time will past by more quickly if you occupy yourself with something. You have been none the wiser to the look on their face; if you have, you would have noticed that it is the same look you have donned when the white-haired goddess has graced your little shop with her holy presence for the very first time. However, by the time lips touch your cheek and steal from you a kiss, you are more chilled by the familiar presence than bothered by the gesture itself.

Then, your eyes meet icy blue and your world crumbles.

You do your best to untangle yourself from whosever arms you are currently trapped in to follow after the woman of your dreams. She is fast on her legs, and there is urgency in your steps as you try to reach her. When you do, she is already in her room. Anxious and desperate, you forgo your manners, and without bothering to knock, you follow her in.

“What you saw. I- It wasn’t-”

“I don’t blame you. I’ve been but a terrible partner. You deserve to have fun.”

“It’s not fair. I didn’t want to be with them. I wanted- I want to be with you.”

It is the truth. It has always been the truth. All you have desperately wanted as you were locked in a waltz with another has been for the hand holding your waist to be Larissa’s and the breath caressing your face to be Larissa’s.

Tears begin to pool in your eyes. You hate that about yourself. You hate that you tend to cry once frustration strikes. It has always rendered you unable to prove your point in the midst of a case.

“I know, darling. I know.” Her voice when it caresses your ear is understanding, placating. She has carried herself to where you are standing, catching a stray tear when it trickles down your cheek. “Tulips, camellias. Now, carnations and clovers. I’ve gained myself quite the romantic, it seems.”

Your cheek is cradled in her palms, still not gloveless you realise. Gingerly, she tilts your head to initiate the collision of your gazes. “I think of you, oh how I think of you. You burn so bright in my heart that bone, flesh and marrow, oh, my entire being is but fuel for my longing for you.” There is fire in her icy blue eyes, and it burns, oh how it burns, reducing you to a mushy mess.

And then,

And then you kiss her, or rather, you try. Too high on the tree has the cherry ripened that you are unable to reach it. So, you stand on tiptoe to capture the delightfully succulent fruit into your mouth. A kiss on those beautifully ripened lips, and oh, they taste all the more delectable than you have imagined they would as you sigh dreamily into her mouth. It is the need to breathe that forces you apart, yet your faces remain only a whisker away.

Your wish to have her hands on your waist is fulfilled when they fit perfectly into the curve of your hips. She laughs, lovely and throaty, as a short little gasp spills forth your lips. The woman has picked you up effortlessly with all the grace of a warlord who has conquered the world. It is on her desk that she sits you down, hands remaining unmoving, thumb lazily tracing the bones of your hip.

“Hence the camellias and salvias?”

“As it turns out,” She puts on a tempting show of biting the gloves off her hands, and when a naked palm cups your cheek, electricity sparks. “I’m quite the flower aficionado myself. Your messages were not lost on me.”

She steals the breath out of your lungs with the kiss that she bestows upon you. It is as beautiful as it is erotic, as gentle as it is ravenous. Teeth nibbling lips and tongues locked in an embrace, she devours you with an intensity so mighty that her mouth on your lips alone has liquid lava pooling in your stomach.

Your legs press together and your back arches, a whimper dripping down your lips when blossoms of kisses branch off to your neck. Mouth messy with lipstick stains, and lips kiss-swollen, your neck likewise is being peppered with markings in the shape of her lips in the shade of a delirious red. And then, she sucks, right on the spot where your little pulse is throbbing ferociously, tonguing your flesh until it is all rosy and raw.

“I like you in the dress dearest, but I think I’d fancy it more when it’s off your body.” The movement of her lips against your skin is silky smooth as a surreptitious crawl of fingers on the back of your body gently tease the zip.

“Can I?” She asks with a kiss to the tip of your nose, and you are but a scoop on a cone, melting under the heat of her stare, murmuring, “Please. It’s no secret anymore that I long for you desperately.”

She unravels you as though you are a present to be cherished. Lusciously full lips savour every inch of skin that is bared to those blazing blue eyes. The attention with which she showers your breasts once you are bare is dizzying, the apex of your thighs dripping wet in a frenzy of desire, lips falling open in a breathless gasp in the face of those bone-melting, toe-curling deeds. There is a featherlight sensation of fingers climbing up the length of your thigh, the feeling becoming a little more tangible by the time they disappear into the waistband of your underwear.

“Nghh!” A mewl dissolves on your tongue when fingers wander into your coarse little curls. No sooner has the throbbing little bundle of nerves been unearthed than it is taken between two digits to be gently pinched and rolled.

Meanwhile, the parting of her mouth from the swell of your breast is accompanied by a web of saliva that glistens in the dim light, along with a send-off by a constellation of artworks that riddles your skin in varying shades of red. A hand then finds home on your thigh to open your legs that little bit more, her gaze on yours arrestingly blue, admiring the frenzied little up and down of your chest as air leaves your lips in quick huffs and puffs.

She is a woman of majestic size in every aspect of her body, rendering you delirious even in your state of dewiness by the time a finger sinks into the tight heat of your core. Immediately, there blooms a little bruised feeling that brings tears to your eyes. Although the appearance of your hand on her forearm, and the clenching of fingers into the front of her blouse are more a mean of reassurance than resistance, movement seizes inside you. You can feel the finger amidst the pulsating of your folds, barely a knuckle deep.

Simultaneously, the little furrow in your brow is chased away by lips that thereupon press a kiss onto your lips. “Am I being too demanding?”

Fingers tightening around her forearm in order to keep her fingers where they are, you offer her a shake of your head. “No. No, I can take it.”

“Good girl.” Another press of lips on the apple of your cheek, a syrupy peck. “My sweet angel.”

Your body, bare and riddled with love-bites and lipstick stains, is all but hidden by the imposing frame that is looming over you. Currently, she is not one but three knuckles deep inside you, hitting that deliriously delicious spot that makes you arch like a cat. You are but an offering to your beloved goddess as she takes and takes and takes from you in whichever way she sees fit.

And then, there is a knock on the door, and the culprit of the noise is inviting themselves in without being given permission to do so.

“Uhm Principal Weems?”

Straightening back into her full glorious height, she makes sure that you are entirely invisible to the second pair of eyes.

“What is it?”

“Has anyone ever come knocking on your doors?”

Her fingers, all the while, remain buried in the dewy depths of your core, memorising every curve, dip, and dimples of your perfectly swollen folds. With a mischievous tilt to her lips, she does a wicked little nudge that sends your eyes heavenward. A strangled little whisper is barely contained at the cost of your lips being taken hostage by your teeth.

“I’m afraid you’re the only one.”

“Strange. I thought I saw them going this way.”

Uncaring of their blather, she continues to bombard your cunt with sweet, scrumptious assaults. With a hand on your hip, she shifts your body a certain way, and oh as her finger plunges into the lowest of the lows, you reach a height that has never been reached before, fireworks exploding in your vision, back bending into a delicious arch, toes curling and fingers clenching into her attire as you are thoroughly claimed by your goddess.

Once your muscles have relaxed around her finger, her hand leaves from between your thighs in accompany with a warm rush of liquid that oozes out of your cunt. There are translucent strings of juices, your juices, spiderwebbing between her fingers, and lord are they delectably wet, implanting in you a need to suck them into your mouth.

There is a hitch to her breath when you wrap your fingers around her wrist to bring a hand to your mouth, doing an experimental lick along the thick girth of her finger before closing your lips around two of them, tracing every ridge of bone with the velveteen tip of your tongue, tasting yourself while you clean your woman with great reverence. In the midst of it all, you have your doe-eyed gaze, that starts blurring with tears once her fingertips brush against the back of your throat, on the irresistible blue of her eyes.

“If that’ll be all, you’re excused.”

“Ah, right.”

As soon as a click signifies the departure of the intruder, she is all over you, plucking your chin between forefinger and a thumb to make a descent onto your lips, nails, coral pink and neatly-trimmed, digging into the swell of your cheek as she licks into your mouth with an untamed hunger. She savours your taste on your tongue, and the moan that she breathes out elicits a moan of your own.

“This should suffice, for now. Next time, it’ll be from the source that I sample you, little florist of mine.”

Next time, she says. There will be a next time.

A delicate kiss is planted onto the arch of your nose while a finger traces a miscellany of vibrant blooms making a delicious mess of your chest. A look of pride and admiration can be seen plain as day on the valleys and planes of her face.

The curve of her cheek, with its baby-pink tinge and velveteen looking peach-fuzz calls out to you, and you happily give in to your urge, reaching out a hand to feel it gently beneath your fingertip. Like a uniquely made bracelet, her fingers are snug around your wrist, holding you as you delicately thumb the bone of her cheek. Only when you are satisfied does she escort your hand to her lips, dropping a sweet blossom of a kiss atop every one of your knuckles.

Wings sprout from your heart, sending the jolly little thing soaring into the sky. The glee of which only increases tenfold when your eyes catch the little flowery bracelet on your wrist; red camellias can be translated into you’re a flame in my heart whereas blue salvias says i think of you.

What a delightful answer to your bouquet of red carnations and white clovers.

And thus, your night is spent in absolute contentment, dying a little death at the hands of your white-haired goddess, with the delightful knowledge that your longing for her is very much reciprocated.

#larissa weems x reader #principal weems x reader #principal larissa weems #character x reader #gwendoline christie x reader #gwendoline christie #gwendolineuniverse #wednesday #wednesday netflix #wednesday series #fanfic #florist #flowers

108 notes · View notes

italiana-0 · 7 months ago

Video

youtube

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youllalwaysbeatomewrenkingston · 8 months ago

Video

youtube

Order Flowers Online: Five Tips for Sending Flowers Cheap

Send flowers cheap, but don't send cheap flowers! How do you send flowers cheap? Five tips for find out more here sending flowers cheap and where to find good places to order flowers online for delivery.

Send flowers cheap, don't send cheap flowers!

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2 notes · View notes

bakedpastapaternalfigure · 8 months ago

Video

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Order Flowers Online: Five Tips for Sending Flowers Cheap

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Send flowers cheap, don't send cheap flowers!

Send Flowers Cheap Tip #1: Order Flowers Online

Send Flowers Cheap Tip #2: Choose Weekday Flower Delivery

Send Flowers Cheap Tip #3: Choose Seasonal Flowers

Send Flowers Cheap Tip #4: Order Early for Special Occasions

Send Flowers Cheap Tip #5: Buy a Year's Worth of Flowers at Once

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floralharmonystudio · 2 months ago

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Why Choose Floral Harmony Studio for Your Flower Delivery Needs?

Flowers are more than just gifts; they’re expressions of love, gratitude, and care. Whether you’re celebrating a birthday, marking an anniversary, or simply letting someone know you’re thinking of them, flowers have a unique way of conveying emotions. At Floral Harmony Studio, we understand this, which is why we offer reliable next day delivery flowers and specialized services like Sunday flower delivery to ensure your floral gesture is timely and meaningful.

Here’s everything you need to know about how Floral Harmony Studio can make your gifting experience seamless and memorable.

Effortless Next Day Flower Delivery

Life is full of surprises, and sometimes, we forget an important occasion until the last moment. Don’t worry—Floral Harmony Studio has got you covered with our flower next day delivery service. You can place your order today, and we’ll ensure your flowers are delivered tomorrow, fresh and beautiful, to your chosen destination in the UK.

Our commitment to providing high-quality flowers in record time makes us one of the most trusted services for flowers delivered UK next day. From classic roses to vibrant lilies and cheerful sunflowers, our wide range of floral arrangements ensures you’ll find the perfect bouquet for any occasion.

Sunday Flower Delivery for Special Moments

Weekends often bring celebrations, gatherings, and moments to cherish with loved ones. But what if the event falls on a Sunday? With Floral Harmony Studio, you don’t have to wait until Monday to brighten someone’s day. Our flower delivery on Sunday ensures that your heartfelt gesture arrives exactly when it’s needed.

Our flower delivery Sunday service is ideal for anniversaries, birthdays, or even spontaneous surprises. We take pride in offering this added flexibility to meet our customers’ unique needs, ensuring that no special moment is missed.

Read More: https://www.floralharmonystudio.co.uk/blog/why-choose-floral-harmony-studio-for-your-flower-delivery-needs

#flower delivery sunday #sunday flower delivery #flowers delivered uk next day

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rouses-flower-shop-greenhouses · 4 months ago

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Northern Cambria Florist

Valentine's Day, a special event of love and affection, has constantly been tightly associated with the gifting of flowers. Each flower brings a distinct significance, making the pick of flowers a considerable element of this romantic day. Check out the leading 10 most popular Valentine's Day flowers and learn their significances, helping you make an enlightened and sincere choice for your loved one.

Roses The ultimate Valentine's flower, the rose, is equal with love and passion. Red roses, in particular, represent deep love and desire, while white roses represent pureness and innocence. Yellow roses, frequently connected with relationship, can likewise show happiness and delight.

Tulips Understood for their stylish and basic shape, tulips are a popular Valentine's option. Red tulips represent true love, whereas purple ones represent royalty and appreciation. Tulips in general represent best love, making them an exceptional, less standard option.

Lilies Unique and lovely, lilies communicate a sense of deluxe and elegance. Red lilies represent enthusiasm, making them a vibrant option for Valentine's Day. Orange lilies reveal self-confidence and pride, while white lilies symbolize pureness and virtue.

Orchids These fragile, unique blossoms represent love, high-end, charm, and strength. They are a great choice for a partner who values distinct elegance and lasting love.

Carnations With their ruffled petals, carnations communicate fascination and new love. Crimson carnations signify deep love and adoration, while pink carnations are typically connected with the love of a woman or a mother.

Sunflowers These intense and pleasant flowers represent love, commitment, and longevity. Sunflowers are perfect for revealing a bright personality and steadfast love.

Daisies Signifying innocence and pureness, daisies are a sweet choice for a budding love. They likewise communicate commitment in love, making them a lovely and less traditional Valentine's present.

Peonies Understood for their lavish and full-bodied look, peonies signify love, success, good luck, and a delighted marital relationship. They are ideal for a partner with whom you share a deep and abiding bond.

Irises These striking flowers represent hope and faith. Purple irises, in particular, are related to knowledge and compliments. They make a thoughtful option for a relationship that is deeply rooted in good understanding and regard.

Gardenias With their lavish, white petals and envigorating scent, gardenias represent pureness and happiness. They are perfect for revealing a deep, old-fashioned love.

Each of these flowers gives a special way to reveal your emotions this Valentine's Day. Whether you select the enthusiastic red rose or the warm personality of the sunflower, keep in mind that it's the belief behind the present that really counts. Pick a flower that resonates with your relationship and let its significance represent your heart. Happy Valentine's Day!

Flower Delivery Northern Cambria PA

Rouse's Flower Shop & Greenhouses is a local florist that offers stunning floral arrangements and same-day delivery in Northern Cambria, Pennsylvania. We are open on Mondays-Fridays 9AM-- 5PM, Saturdays 9AM - 12PM, and Sundays 9AM - 1PM.

When you go shopping for flowers at Rouse's Flower Shop & Greenhouses, you're sure to get fabulous arrangements crafted with passion and attention to detail!

As the top flower shop in Northern Cambria, our florists are ready to serve all your floral needs for any occasion.

Need a red rose bouquet for your anniversary? Get Well present for a good friend? Green plants for your mother? White sympathy arrangement for a funeral? We've got you covered.

Let Rouse's Flower Shop & Greenhouses give you the perfect flower bouquets and gifts for all those precious life moments!

Flower Shop Northern Cambria

Rouse's Flower Shop & Greenhouses 3908 Bigler Ave. Northern Cambria, PA 15714 (814) 948-9111 https://www.rousesflowershop.com/

Read our Northern Cambria florist review

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Flower Delivery Northern Cambria

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dundalk-florist · 4 months ago

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Dundalk Florist

7233 German Hill Road Dundalk, MD 21222 (410) 284-1600 https://www.dundalkflorist.com/

Dundalk Florist is a local florist with excellent floral designs and same-day delivery in Dundalk, Maryland. We are open on Mondays-Fridays from 9AM-6PM, Saturdays 9AM-5PM, and Sundays 9AM-3PM.

For over 100 years, we have been proud to be the top florist in Dundalk and nearby areas! Our florists are passionate about producing the most wonderful floral arrangements for all those precious moments in your life.

Shopping for red roses for your partner on Valentine's Day? Floral gift for a friend on their birthday? Sympathy arrangement with white lilies for a funeral? Fruit basket for a mourning relative? Lush plant for your mother just because? We've got you covered.

Let Dundalk Florist make you and your loved ones smile with our beautiful floral bouquets and gifts!

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Flower Delivery in Dundalk, Maryland

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yourtowersflowers · 4 months ago

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North Babylon Florist

Each month has its one-of-a-kind appeal, and with it comes a special birthday flower that captures its significance. As days change from the new beginnings of January to the cheery endings of December, every month's birth flower brings with it stories of history, significance, and all-natural appeal. Let's start this 12-month flower odyssey, highlighting the birthday celebration blossoms that envelop the spirit of every month.

January: The Tranquility of Carnations In the heart of wintertime, when nature appears to be in a deep rest, Carnations flower with peaceful poise. These fragile blossoms, offered in a wide range of shades, represent love, attraction, and difference. Pink carnations, particularly, share gratefulness, making them a wonderful birthday celebration gift.

February: The Modesty of Violets Violets, with their soft shades and wonderful aroma, mirror the mild change from winter months to springtime. Representing commitment, humbleness, and faithfulness, they're the best means to desire somebody a year full of unfaltering love and trust.

March: The Vitality of Daffodils As winter season launches its icy hold, daffodils arise, proclaiming the coming of warmer days. These glowing yellow blossoms signify new beginnings and unequaled interest, mirroring the significance of March-born people.

April: The Quality of Daisy Daisies, with their pure white flowers and sun-like center, are identified with virtue and pureness. They personify April's spirit, representing hope and the restoration of nature.

May: The Style of Lily of the Valley These small bell-shaped blossoms, with their invigorating scent, stand for the return of joy. An excellent depiction for May, they symbolize the change right into the euphoric summer season days ahead.

June: The Appeal of Roses June is beautified by the queen of blossoms. Roses, in their myriad shades, represent a variety of feelings from love to thankfulness, making them a flexible birthday celebration present.

July: The Brightness of Larkspur Larkspurs, with their high spikes and star-shaped blossoms, mean love and positivity. Their vibrancy records the height of summertime and the happiness of July.

August: The Strength of Gladiolus Standing for self-control and ethical honesty, the sword-shaped gladiolus blossoms are a testimony to the intense spirit of those celebrating their birthdays in August.

September: The Beauty of Asters These pretty flowers, which are available in different colors, signify love and perseverance. As summer season subsides and fall approaches, asters personify the mix of 2 seasons.

October: The Vibrancy of Marigolds These intense blossoms, commonly related to the sunlight's radiance, capture October's significance. They mean interest and creative thinking, reverberating with the fall spirit.

November: The Deepness of Chrysanthemums Commonly called 'mums', these blossoms are available in a stunning variety of shades. They illustrate November's deepness, representing delight and positive outlook.

December: The Gleam of Narcissus These brilliant blossoms, mirroring the celebration of December, mean hope and success.

In this vivid tapestry of flowers, every month provides a one-of-a-kind blossom, adding appeal and meaning to birthday celebrations. Whether you're giving or receiving, comprehending these blossoms improves the happiness of the celebration.

Flower Delivery North Babylon NY

Towers Flowers is a local florist with extraordinary floral designs and same-day delivery in North Babylon, New York. We are open on Mondays-Saturdays 8:30 AM-6PM and Sundays 9AM-3:30 PM.

For over 3 decades, our flower shop has devotedly served all clients in North Babylon and areas around Long Island. Each floral arrangement we offer is created with care and passion by our florists, making sure you get the highest-quality florals and gifts for any occasion.

Shopping for a bouquet of red roses for your spouse? Birthday floral gift for a friend? Orchid plants for your mother? Pink flower arrangement for a special event? White sympathy blossoms for a funeral? We've got just what you need.

Let Towers Flowers be your first pick for dazzling floral bouquets and gifts!

Flower Shop North Babylon

Towers Flowers Florist & Flower Delivery 1350 Deer Park Ave Ste 32 North Babylon, NY 11703 (631) 242-0070 https://www.towersflowers.com/

Read our North Babylon florist review

Flower Delivery North Babylon

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