#that's the birthday flower for august!
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#lmao he looks like he's staring at the flower like “i will destroy you. ಠ_ಠ ”#anyway i think i had a good idea and a perfect ref pic for this but i started waaaay too late as always 😔#whatever happy birthday buddy!#that's the birthday flower for august!#happy mark day#mark lee fanart#itsnctsworld#nctzenart#nctcreations#nctinc#nct fanart#nct 127 fanart#nct dream fanart#kpop fanart#nct#mark lee#2023#flowers#gladiolus
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impressionist flower
convenient timing
#vflower#v4 flower#v4flower#vocaloid#vocaloid flower#my brother's art#ms paint#i literally just found out today is claude monet's birthday#my brother volunteered to make this masterpiece#i literally could never...he paints so much better#always loved impressionism#this request was sent on the 30th of august too 😭😭
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August 29, 2024
#John's Incredible Pizza#pizza place#arcade#fan#ceiling fan#colorful#rainbow#flower#rainbowcore#kidcore#kidreg#kidre#sfw agere#agere#nostalgia#nostalgiacore#childhood nostalgia#photography#digicam#nikon coolpix 3200#summer#digital camera#2024#august#birthday#adventures with friends#indoor photography
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Birthday Flowers of FFXV: The Chocobros
(according to 季節の花300, a Japanese flower website) [x]
———
Ignis Scientia (February 7)
Thunberg fritillary (Fritillaria thunbergii, previously Fritillaria verticillata var. thunbergii) [x]
(image credit: titanium22 on Flickr via Wikimedia Commons)
A member of the Liliaceae (lily) family native to Central Asia. The bulb of this flower 浙貝母 (zhè bèi mǔ) is used in Traditional Chinese Medicine to relieve coughs and reduce phlegm, among other indications.
Hanakotoba (Japanese flower language): A modest heart.
———
Gladiolus Amicitia (April 2)
Reeves' spiraea (Spiraea cantoniensis) [x]
(image credit: KENPEI via Wikimedia Commons)
A member of the Rosaceae (rose) family native to China. Known as ko-demari (小手毬) in Japanese as its clusters of small flowers look like the patterns on temari, children's handball toys that are also symbols of great loyalty and friendship.
Hanakotoba: Friendship. (You know what else means "friendship?" Gladio's last name.)
———
Noctis Lucis Caelum (August 30)
Tiger lily (specifically Lilium lancifolium) [x]
(image credit: Maja Dumat via Wikimedia Commons)
A member of the Liliaceae (lily) family native to China, Japan, Korea, and the Russian Far East. The species name, lancifolium, refers to its leaves looking like polearms (i.e. lances). Its showy black-spotted orange flowers have made it a popular ornamental plant.
Hanakotoba: A wise person.
———
Prompto Argentum (October 25)
African milkweed (Gomphocarpus fruticosus) flower [x]
(image credit: Bernard Dupont via Wikimedia Commons)
A member of the Apocynaceae (dogbane) family. Native to eastern and southern Africa, the plant is also found in Australia and New Zealand, where it is known as narrow-leaved cotton bush. Its thorny fruit pops when mature in late fall, producing cotton-like seeds.
Hanakotoba: A hidden ability. (I see what you did there, Square Enix!)
#final fantasy xv#ignis scientia#gladiolus amicitia#noctis lucis caelum#prompto argentum#birthdays#hanakotoba#february 7#april 2#august 30#october 25#noct's is the only one that is kinda...#???#?????#i guess it's a dramatic-looking flower for our dramatic virgo king#but the other three i completely agree with#also i said i'd be disappointed if gladio's flower isn't an iris#but i'm not disappointed at all
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21.August.2O23🎈
Happy birthday to amazing me …
Celebrating my special day
at the coziest coffee house 🫶🏻
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Language of Flowers: Thrift
In the language of flowers, the flower for today, August 14 (which is also my parents’ 69th wedding anniversary), is Thrift, which signifies sympathy for the fallen. Armeria maritima. Image from Wikipedia. This perky pink wildflower has been a favorite of gardeners since the 16th century. In Gaelic, Thrift is known as tonna chladaich, meaning ‘beach wave’. In Welsh it is called clustog fair,…
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#Armeria maritima#August#birthday#clustog fair#herbalism#Language of flowers#Rock Rose#Sea Pink#Thrift#tonna chladaich
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anyway its been 8 years of bearing the curse
#i didnt actually start playing until april bc i procrastinate everything but yeah <3#oh also happy birthday lucien its his in-character birthday yippeee (but he wasnt a thing until like august of the same year)#(so he gets to have 2 birthdays <3 special son)#also 🤝🤝🤝 at my dear mutual flower; we both have game anniversaries and character birthdays on the same day.......<3
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* ⟢ THE TRIPLE A’S , THE DOUBLE A’S. → @starlightfreed
#* ⟢ ANNIE CLEMENS ❮ edits ❯#* ⟢ ANNIE CLEMENS ❮ visage ❯#journclist#starlightfreed#HAPPY BIRTHDAY MY LOVEEEEEEE#have this moderately sad edit#the second page of the scrapbook is ..... /after/#the little text over augusts picture says#'if i had a flower for every time i thought of you; i could walk in my garden forever'#* ⟢ ANNIE & APRIL ❮ i love you to the moon and saturn ❯#* ⟢ ANNIE & AUGUST ❮ i wait patiently he’s going to notice me ❯
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It's August soon (crazy as I don't feel we've had much of a summer yet with all the rain), Augusts birthstone is Peridot, a beautiful green gemstone.
Pictured is on of my Peridot star-flower pendants.
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Natural Chamomile Soap Recipe + Soap Making Instructions
Woensdag 16 augustus 2023... kamille zeep maken... als cadeau
#diy#homemade#enjoyingthemoment#summer#2023#august#soap#chamomile#gift#birthday gift#lavender#flowers#making#homegrown#home crafts#saponification
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Bruce didn’t come here often. Perhaps that was terrible of him but he couldn’t bear to visit his son’s resting place. It was difficult to equate his high-spirited son, bright as the sun itself and endlessly brilliant despite the more he grew up in, to the cold and lifeless stone engraved with his name and words that did not encompass everything his son was to him.
His hands were full of flowers, Jason’s favorite books, a round rock, and his son’s favorite foods.
Bruce didn’t come here often, because it broke his heart even more when he did, but today was a day that love and grief triumphed over his need to avoid.
He walked down the winding pathway, Alfred a silent sentinel behind him. He hated it, but he understood. Today was the only day Alfred allowed himself to be emotionally closed off. He’d lost a grandson.
Bruce didn’t come here often, but his son’s birthday was a day Bruce would remember how to love and live again, just for Jason.
“I will be over here, Master Bruce.” Alfred stopped at his designated spot, where Bruce had added a bench and a draping tree to shade Alfred as he stood vigil.
The first time they’d- it was April, and the sun- after the funeral, Bruce was lost in the throes of grief and had kneeled over the freshly tilled dirt for hours. Alfred had stood there, in that same spot, in the city’s rare blazing sun until Bruce came back to himself.
Bruce had almost lost his second father that day, and what good was wealth if it could not prevent that? And so, water, shade, a bench, and a space heater was added.
Bruce knows better than anyone how stubborn Alfred can be, when it comes to matters of the heart. After all, he didn’t have to raise Bruce after Martha and Thomas died.
“Alright, Alfred.”
Bruce splits from the haggard butler with pointed looks at the water bottles he’d prepared for today for Alfred (who manages, this time, a faint but amused raise of an eyebrow) and walks towards Jason Todd’s grave.
Here where his son is buried, the grass is kept green. In April, Forget-Me-Nots bloomed and dotted the place where Bruce’s world collapsed with bright colors. In August, it is still green, but the tin engraved with the names of the deceased stood out without the flowers.
Bruce kneeled and quietly arranged the flowers before placing them in the tin. He set the platters of food down and uncovered them. The scent of chili dogs made his heart stutter, flashes of a bright smile and book references blinding Bruce with their nostalgia.
He swallowed, grief building, and placed the stone he’d brought atop the gravestone. He sat back, gripping Jason’s book with white knuckles.
Bruce didn’t turn around when clothing rustled behind him. Alfred would have verbally cut down anyone that dared to approach them today, especially here. That he didn’t do so was telling of who it would be.
“I’m still mad at you, for not telling me as soon as you knew.” Dick Grayson sat down, hand over one of Jason’s school bag pins he had carefully attached to the front of his jacket.
“I know. I’m sorry.”
“He deserved better. I should have been there.” Dick whispered, placing another bundle of flowers into the tin. It fit, but barely. “I would have dropped everything to come find him. Even if it wasn’t on time, even if it wasn’t enough, I deserved to be there when he was buried. We were family.”
“I know.” Bruce repeated, no less regretful. In his grief, he had wronged his loved ones. “I’m sorry.”
Dick casted a quiet, assessing eye at him. Bruce stayed quiet.
“It’s too dreary,” Dick said. He took out paints, little statutes of robins, bright birds, and bits and bobs Bruce knew Jason would have loved had he been alive out of his pockets.
“It should be more colorful,” Dick murmured as he placed them artfully against the headstone.
They sat there, for a while. Dick glanced at… at Bruce’s hand, and settled down.
It’d been a while since they’ve spoken, but he knew what the man intentioned to do today. This will be the most Dick will have heard Bruce speak outside of his civilian obligations.
Bruce took the cue and gently opened Jason’s book. He’d bought it for Jason- the first gift- and he’d read it to Jason every night. Dick had a similar book.
“Call me Ishmael. Some years ago- never mind how long precisely- having little or no money in my purse…”
——
A boy with black hair and blue eyes wandered amongst the graveyard. They’ve been here for a while, and the man’s low rumble was soothing to listen to. The shades that hung about the graveyard settled as he read out loud from the book as his son sat quietly beside him.
As the boy, invisible and intangible, brushed his hand against the gravestone, he wondered why they were reading to an empty grave.
——
Dick had left long before Bruce did.
And when it was time to go, as stars began to climb and as the cold began to nip at his fingers, Bruce heard a quiet voice.
“Do not stand at his grave and weep,” and Bruce turned, recognizing the poem. “He is not there. He does not sleep.”
But there was no-one.
#dpxdc#but it doesn’t have to be#me (24 days ago): lol let’s write angst for fun#me (now and not prepared for the angst that i personally wrote): yo wtf#batman#Bruce Wayne#bruce Wayne’s shitty coping skills#except for on Jason’s birthday#Jason Todd (‘s grave)#Jason Todd#Alfred#alfred pennyworth#dick Grayson
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I'm An August Woman Floral I Was Born With My Heart On My Sleeve A Fire In My Soul And A Mouth I Can't Control T-Shirt
Get your now: https://www.teepublic.com/t-shirt/38169156-im-an-august-woman-floral-i-was-born-with-my-heart
#I'm An August Woman Floral I Was Born With My Heart On My Sleeve A Fire In My Soul And A Mouth I Can't Control T-Shirt#I'm An August Woman Floral I Was Born With My Heart On My Sleeve A Fire In My Soul And A Mouth I Can't Control#I'm An August Woman Floral#I'm An August Woman#august#august shirt#august tshirt#august shirt for women#august birthday#birthday august#august gift#born in august#birthday woman#birthday women#floral#flowers#august man#august guy#august girl
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happy flower husbands anniversary (i’m probably off a few days oh well)
happy birthday to a rare healthy mcyt ship
drawn in august, november, and december
#mcyt#mcyt fanart#minecraft#art#fanart#solidairty gaming#solidairty fanart#scott smajor#scott smajor fanart#empires smp#empires smp fanart#new life smp#new life smp fanart#flower husbands#flower husbands fanart
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spring was simon’s favourite season.
maybe because it meant rebirth, seeing the trees turn a vivid green again and the fields full of flowers and colours gave him hope. he loved to wake up and open his window in the early days of april, when the world was finally getting rid of the chilly morning breeze that always made him sick the first weeks of winter. every time he felt the air getting warmer, he couldn’t wait to change his heavy winter jacket into his windbreaker.
maybe it was because his birthday was in may, and despite not having celebrated it like he should’ve when he was a kid, he knew you would never forget to wake him up with a soft peck on the lips.
‘morning birthday boy.
if you asked him, he would tell you he liked spring better than summer because the weather was more enjoyable, not too hot yet not cold. spring’s light showers were his favourite noise to wake up to, after the one of the coffee maker he got you for christmas.
the real reason simon was so devoted to spring, almost as much as he was to you, were you. what did you expect from him?
he knew you probably couldn’t remember, but all those years back, you two met in early spring, after a particularly difficult winter.
simons life had been a deep, cold and dark winter for the past years. two, five, ten, who kept count anymore? his days would blend one into the other, seasons slowly bleeding into the next, he almost couldn’t tell the difference between august and february. seasonal depression was real, but somehow it lingered all around the year for him. that was before you.
you were the first shy sun ray that filtered through the clouds, quite literally. you, as fresh as the cold rain, and your heart, as warm as a late may afternoon, were all he needed to get out of his hibernation. you were what simon needed to wake up, the signal that spring and all beautiful things were on the way, that he needed to arise and get out of his hollow tree.
for the first time in years, simon’s eyes realized that spring was blooming everywhere around him, he was just too deep into his winter, blind, to notice; the flowers were blossoming, as beautiful as ever. he was grateful.
for you, for spring, for the sun finally caressing his face and skin and for your sweet kisses, each of them feeling like the first warm day after months of wind and snow.
“good morning, birthday boy.” you whispered as you kissed his lips.
simon squeezed his eyes shut before slowly opening them. he’d heard you get up, of course, the moment you started stirring in bed he was informed you were awake. you could try to keep the military out of the house, but the instincts followed him home, whether you liked it or not.
your bright smile was beaming at him, your hands on his bare broad chest as you sat on his hips, your thighs on either side of his waist.
“‘mornin’ beautiful.” he mumbled, resting a strong hand on your hip as he sat back, leaning against the headrest.
“breakfast’s in the kitchen,” you smiled, “i made coffee too.”
he hummed. “can smell it. i heard you too.”
you grinned.
“what’re grinning at?” he tiredly grinned back.
“want me to bring you breakfast in bed?” you said, “we can stay here in bed all day if you want to.”
he shook his head. “nah, love, i’m coming to the kitchen. i’ll be ready in a minute.”
you brought your lips to his again before getting off of him and caressing his cheek as you walked back to the kitchen, waiting for him.
his eyes followed your figure until you left the room, and he raised his gaze to the ceiling for a minute before shuffling his feet to the bathroom. he closed the door and stood in front of the sink, his hands on either side of the ceramic. his brown eyes, so dark they looked black, remained fixed on his reflection before he walked to the big window and opened the panes.
“simon?” you called. “baby, your coffee’s getting cold!”
his broad figure stood there, studying the nature outside. there was a small park in front of the flat, a little green heaven where mostly children went to play, he could hear from there the laughters and giggles. the trees, wild cherries and guelder rose followed the small street, their branches almost reaching the top floor where you lived.
“comin’ love.”
it was the middle of may, almost summer, and simon took a big breath of the fresh morning air before leaving the window open as he turned around and walked to the kitchen, right into his little piece of spring.
#simon riley#simons a loverboy at heart#postmortemnivis#simon riley x reader#simon riley x you#spring is in the air#my baby#i love spring#springtime
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vi. 'tis the damn season
part of the 'hangman & honey' series!
summary: for the past six months, jake has spent every spare moment attempting to mend communication between he and honey. for months, he uses his phone calls to phone her, leave long voicemails, and writes her multiple letters a week. his efforts come with no avail, she never calls or writes him back. with christmas around the corner, jake makes his way back home to texas, but not before making an important stop along the way.
word count: 6.1k
warnings: 18+ mdni!! (dirty talk, but no explicit descriptions); definite military inaccuracies; definite college inaccuracies; general angst; christmas story in august?
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'Dear Honey,
I know this is the third or fourth letter this week, and I'm not even sure if you're receiving these, but I can't just not write to you. I left you another voicemail, and I'm not sure if you're listening to those either, but I have talked to you nearly everyday since we were nine, and, well, that's not a habit you break easily. I called you on your birthday last week and left a message, and I sent you a card, I hope you got them both.
Honey, I'm sorry. I'll say it in every voicemail and every letter until you believe me. I shouldn't have taken so long to tell you the truth. I regret it. If I could take it all back, you know I would. I didn't do it to hurt you, I never want to hurt you. But I know I did, and no words I could say or write will change that. I'm sorry. I'll say it over and over again until you understand how much I mean that.
I know you likely don't want to hear about my time here, but I've always told you everything. If you don't want to hear me talk about it, I thought you might read about it. I can't ever remember a time you weren't reading.
Life here is different. Not bad, just...hard. The weather is certainly cooler than the winters back home. We even got snow, true snow, not the shitty kind we get in Haven. It sticks to the ground, and you can actually play in it, not just bust your ass on ice and sleet. Things are always very routine and strict, but, considering it's a week til Christmas break, things are looking up. Honestly, I've never been more ready to go back home to Texas. Granny said she spoke to you about coming home for Christmas, since you missed Thanksgiving? I really hope you'll come around. I miss you, Honey. I haven't heard your voice since that voicemail you sent me in October. Look, you can stay at the other house, I'll set it up for you before you even get here. Or, I'll stay there, and you can have our my room. You don't even have to talk to me, just please come. Just seeing you would be enough.
My bunkmate, Javy, the one I've mentioned to you for the past few months, he's from New Orleans. He's coming home for Christmas, and he's going to drop me off at the airport there. I'll fly back to Austin from there, and Pawpaw will be there to pick me up. Sometimes, at night or when we have spare time, Javy tells me about his life back home in Louisiana. More often than not, it makes me think of you. They make me think of the birthday beignets you make for Pawpaw, and how you'd make us gumbo in the winter. Frankly, everything makes me think of you. Honey, I see you everywhere. There are these bushes outside Bancroft Hall, and they're full of these little white and red flowers. I'm not sure what they're called, but they're pretty, and I know you'd love them. There's a kid in one of my morning classes, and he's got your accent too. It's nice to hear, I haven't heard your voice in so long. I hope the Magnolia State is treating you well. I imagine you're much happier with your favorite flower all around you.
I don't have much else to tell you about. I'd like to tell you my other stories when we're face to face again. I just wanted to let you know I miss you, and I love you, always. Call me back or write to me whenever you get the chance, if you're feeling up to it.
All my love,
Jake'
Honey holds the paper tightly in her hands, letting it crinkle under the pressure of her grasp. If he'd sent this letter when they'd first split, she'd have balled it up or ripped it to pieces with her blinding, white-hot rage. She had been so angry when she'd first moved away, ignoring his incessant phone calls and numerous voicemails. She had let his letters pile up on her desk, unopened and unread. In the chance that he'd sent this letter just a few months later, she would have stained the ink of his letters with her tears. After her anger came a fierce sadness, one that seeped into her bones and left her incapacitated, ridden with the agony that threatened to pull her under like a rogue wave. But now, as she stares down at Jake's scratchy handwriting across the lined paper, she simply feels numb. His letter does not spark an onslaught of tears or suffocating sobs that leave her chest heaving. She simply folds the letter back up and slides it back into its envelope, placing it gently on her desktop, deciding to deal with it later, much like the emotions it evoked.
She knows she shouldn't, but she grabs the familiar orange sweatshirt that lives on her bed and throws it over her head. It comes to her knees and the sleeves are far too long, but it provides her with a comfort she almost wishes it didn't. In her tiny dorm room in Starkville, her small college town (although bigger than Haven,) she feels isolated. Her entire life for the past six months had simply been going-through-the-motions of life: wake up, go to class, come home, study, finish assignments, work a shift at her on-campus job, shower, repeat. Life had become monotonous, something that her life with Jake never was.
She knows she shouldn't wallow. She should try and get out, make more friends-more than just the lady at the circulation desk in the library-and try to enjoy her life at nineteen. But, once again, that gnawing, creeping feeling infiltrates her chest, Honey wasn't like her classmates. She wouldn't enjoy sitting in a bar or attending a frat party. She'd sit in the corner alone, nursing a drink she likely wouldn't finish, and leave with an Irish goodbye. Now, all she had was a sweatshirt that smelled faintly of the boy she once slept next to each night, and it was her only source of comfort.
Honey knows she should get up and call Mrs. Janet, to let her know that she's okay, and that she was settled. The last time she'd spoken to her or Mr. Jacob had been nearly two weeks ago. She should call Haley and Sarah Grace back, both of her hometown friends had been calling since they'd met up for the last time in October. She knows she should stop shutting those who loved her out-Jake included-but that was a different situation entirely.
Instead of doing any of the aforementioned, she simply sinks into her comforter and puts her headphones on, effectively shutting out the rest of the world. She was glad her roommate had left for her own home state, leaving her alone in the dorm room for the next two weeks. Deep down, Honey knew she was lying to herself. She yearned for the feeling of home, her true home, on a farm in Texas. She craved Mrs. Janet's cowboy cookies that she made at least two dozen too many of, and Mr. Jacob's Christmas ham that took hours to get just right, but was so worth it when it practically melted in her mouth. She missed sitting around a room full of the Seresin family, watching the children open new toys and heaps of candy. She'd laugh as they opened new clothes with sour faces, quickly ditching them for the next box in shiny wrapping. Their childlike joy made her own flare, leaving her chest warm as she giggled quietly in Jake's arms. She missed Jake sneaking them eggnog from the kitchen, and the babbling laughter they erupted into when they realized no matter how much older they got, it was always just as disgusting as the first time he'd snuck it when they were thirteen. Mostly, she missed the warm, peaceful feeling she felt when she was in a room full of people she loved most. In a bout of honesty, she admits that maybe, just maybe, she just missed Jake.
Through her headphones, she can hear the rain patter against her window, and she sighs, the weather only adding to her melancholy mood. Honey knew if she chose to rot in bed, her emotions would only grow heavier, so with a deep sigh, she rolls out of bed and slides on her worn sneakers. She takes off Jake's Longhorns hoodie and swaps it for her own, tosses the hood over her head, and grabs the keys to Jake's truck. She grabs her finished library books to return, and her wallet, deciding to wallow in the secluded section of the library instead. She walks out of her dorm room, locks the door, and takes the stairs down to the lobby. She pushes the door open and heads out into the rain.
Honey would never make it to the library that day.
-
Two weeks prior...
"You scribblin' away for that girl again, Seresin?"
Javy's voice fills Jake's ears, and Jake doesn't bother looking up as he shoots his roommate a middle finger salute. Javy laughs at the action before climbing into his top bunk, leaning his head against his pillow. There's silence between the two before Javy's voice cuts through again.
"So when are you gonna tell me about her?"
From the second that Javy had met Jake, it seemed like something was weighing his bunkmate down. It wasn't until a week or so later, when they both were calling home, that Javy learned it wasn't something, it was someone. Jake kept information about his girl on lock, so Javy knew little information: her name was Honey, which Javy found odd, but brushed it off. She was studying English at a college in Mississippi, and Jake had, somehow, royally fucked things up with her before he'd come to the Academy.
Jake sighs, stopping his writing as he looks up at his friend on the top bunk.
"If I tell you, will you shut up for ten minutes so I can write?"
Javy nods, his brown eyes sparkling with a stream of questions he'd been burning to ask.
"Fine, what'dya want to know?"
Javy is quiet for a moment, looking up at the ceiling, as if pondering something.
"What's she like? Wait! No, let me guess! She was a cheerleader, pretty little thing, prom queen, the whole nine-yards to your little All-American thing."
Jake lets out a laugh, thinking of Honey as he shakes his head.
"You couldn't be more wrong. Except the pretty part, she-she's gorgeous."
"Really?" Javy sits up and leans over the metal railing of the bunk. "What? Is she like some metal chick with the eyeliner?"
Javy motions around his eye to emphasize his point.
Jake's eyes widened, continuing to shake his head.
"Definitely not."
"Then what's she like? C'mon man, you gotta give me something! You're always callin' her and writin' her, and I never see you get a response. She got you under Love Potion Number Nine or something? She do the whole magic thing? Can't trust that man."
"No, no, she's not like that. She's-," Jake pauses, trying to find the most accurate words to describe Honey. "She's quiet, shy, she's practically the opposite of me. She likes to read, a lot. I don't think there's ever been a time in our lives when she didn't have a book in her hand. She's kind, never lacking patience when it comes to all of my bullshit. And smart, ridiculously so, she's the smartest person I know. Honey is...witty, and funny, she's got this sarcastic sense of humor that you'd never expect from her. W-We've been friends since we were kids. We started datin' in high school, and we had this fight before I came here, and, obviously, she's still mad about it, so...yeah."
Javy notes the glimmer in Jake's eyes as he talks about his girlfriend, a small smile forming across his lips. Javy hadn't known Jake for more than six months, but this was probably the happiest he'd seen his bunkmate. Javy shrugs, giving his friend another incredulous look.
"So what are you gonna do about it, Seresin?"
Jake's jade eyes look up at him, his letter finished but suddenly forgotten.
"What do you mean? She obviously doesn't want to speak to me. The only time she's spoken to me in six months is when she left me a drunk voicemail on Halloween, saying how I made her cry. What am I supposed to do with that? If she saw me, she'd probably knock my lights out."
Javy shrugs. "But do you love her?"
Jake looks down at his well-kept shoes.
"More than she'll ever know."
"You said she's studying in Starkville? You think she's going back to Texas for Christmas?"
"It's unlikely," Jake responds, his voice somber at the admission. "Why?"
"Well," Javy props back onto his pillow, his hands tucked under his head. "I'm driving back home for Christmas, passin' right through Mississippi. It sounds like if you messed this up, you need to be the one to fix it. Show her you haven't given up, and you want her back. If you surprise her, maybe she'll give you a chance to explain yourself."
Jake's heart hammers in his chest, his friend's plan wasn't entirely bad. Jake looks up at his bunkmate, his face set in a knowing look.
"Honey hates surprises."
"And you hate living without her, which one will be worse: her temporary anger, or never speakin' to her again?"
Jake sighs, he hates that Javy was right. Maybe it was a stupid idea, cancelling his flight back home from Austin, tagging along on a road trip with Javy to get the love of his life back. But, a week later, Jake's duffel was slung into the backseat of Javy's car haphazardly as he rode shotgun, giving his friend directions toward a small Mississippi town.
-
Now, Honey makes her way across the rainy parking lot. Through her blurry eyesight, she quickly finds Jake's truck in the nearly empty parking lot. She fishes the key from the bundle of keys in her hand, sliding it into the key slot on the door and unlocking the door. Before she could remove the key and pop open the door, Honey hears a voice call out her name. She pauses, and for a split second, she thinks she hears Jake's voice. She shakes her head, pulling at the driver's side door. It was often shut too hard, and she had to pull with a good portion of her strength to get it to open. As she tugs on the handle, she hears it again, her name in Jake's voice. She tugs harder, thinking she was finally losing her mind.
"Honey, wait!"
The footsteps behind her alert her that the voice she had been hearing likely wasn't just a hallucination. She turns abruptly, and her heart stops in her chest. There, standing before her in a rain-soaked Navy sweatshirt and jeans, his significantly shorter blonde locks plastered against his forehead, was one Jake Seresin. Honey's eyes widened in shock, the breath in her chest growing short and ragged. She pulls her books closer to her chest, an action of both shock and keeping them as dry as possible. Her eyes dart back and forth between his own. She's quiet for a moment, rendered completely speechless.
"Jake?!" Her eyebrows furrowed. "What the hell are you doing here?! You-You're supposed to be on a plane to Austin right now!"
Jake stands in front of her, motionless, as his eyes take her in completely. It had been so long since he'd seen her, and he simply wanted to peer at her forever. She hadn't changed much, she was still shorter than him in stature, still an avid reader by the small pile of books she'd finally tossed onto the truck seat, but her eyes didn't quite shine like they once had. Jake's heart hammered in his chest, staring at the girl he loved standing in front of him in the pouring rain, arms crossed over her chest, shivering in the cold.
"Jake, hey?!" She waves her hand in front of his face, attempting to gain his attention. "What are you doing here?!"
Honey's voice is loud enough to hear over the rain pelting around them both. Her eyes are wide as he looks down at her, his hands itch to touch her, but he keeps them at his side. He takes another look into her eyes, and he simply loses every ounce of control he has. He takes a step forward towards her, his hands come to rest on either side of her face. Honey wants to knock his hands away, she wants to let her anger simmer forever, but the warmth of his calloused touch provides her with a comfort she hadn't felt in so long. If it had not been raining so fiercely, both halves of the pair would realize the tears running down one another's face. He's silent for a long moment, simply taking in her face for the first time in months.
"Honey, I-I fucked up," Jake starts, his voice trembling with a flurry of emotions. "Honey, I fucked up so, so bad."
He pauses, allowing the rain to soak through both their clothes, his thumb brushing carefully against her cheek. His bottom lip trembles, his hands beginning to shake against her face. Honey says nothing, only braving a look into his green eyes darkening with tears.
"I-I've apologized a thousand times over the past six months and it's not enough. It'll never be enough, because knowin' I hurt you?" He pauses and shakes his head with his lips pressed into a fine line, effectively keeping him from bursting into sobs. "Honey, that shit has ripped me to shreds everyday since you left. I-I never meant to hurt you, ever. I'll spend the rest of my life apologizin' to you if that's what you want." His eyes bore into her own, his breaths shaky.
"I'll spend the rest of my life on hands and knees, grovelin' if that's what you want. A-And if you tell me to fuck off and never speak to you again, I-I'll do it. Just-just know that all of me-body, heart, soul, everything I am-it belongs to you. If you've decided that you're movin' on, and you want to do everythin' we planned with someone else, I won't try to stop it. But, you have to know somethin', and I need you to understand that it doesn't matter if you move to Canada, o-or you stay here, or you move back to Haven, my heart forever sits in your hands. It's yours, forever, whether I have yours or not. That house on my grandparent's farm? I fixed it for you, it's yours. This truck? It's yours, take it. Honey, you can have whatever you want, I'll buy you whatever you want, I'll make it if I can't buy it. Tell me what you want, and I'll make it happen. Whatever it is, baby, it's yours."
His chest moves quickly with his rapid breaths, his hands shaking from his contained emotions. Honey simply looks at him, still a bit shocked that he's standing in front of her. If she wasn't overwhelmed by the landslide of apologies he'd just spouted, she'd have given him her own back. Instead, she stands a bit still, her chest just as heavy as his. He mistakes her silence as rejection, and his face falls as he gives a subtle nod of his head. His hands move from her face, and, in that split second, Honey is shocked into action. She wouldn't lose him again, she couldn't lose him again. In one quick swoop, she grabs the wrists of his sweatshirt, pulling his attention back to her. She speaks a tad louder than her normal tone, ensuring he would hear her over the pelting rain.
"You, all I want is you. That-That's all I've ever wanted, Jake!"
He catches a glimpse of her face, her cheeks pink as she shivers, but her eyes, they were the same love-filled gaze he'd remembered. He wanted to begin another string of apologies, to assure her that he meant everything he said, but he never got the chance. In an action almost completely out of nature for the shy girl he knew, her arms were around his neck, pulling his lips towards hers in a heated passion. He wasted no time in indulging in the action, his hands coming to her hips, lifting her a bit higher to deepen the kiss. The sweet kiss quickly turns to a clash of teeth and heated movements, and Jake quickly hoists her up, her legs wrapping around his waist as if it were muscle memory.
From his car across the lot, Javy shakes his head and smiles as the two embrace one another. He cranks his car back up, backs out of the parking spot and turns back onto the main road. He shakes his head as he thinks of his friend, mumbling to himself as he drives:
"Tis the damn season, Seresin, you lucky dog."
Back at the school, it only takes a split second for the couple's kiss to grow a bit too intense for the parking lot setting, and, without thinking, Jake pulls her through the lobby's double doors and into the elevator, where the two finally break apart for a split second.
"J-Jake, I-I never should've left like that, I-,"
She doesn't get to finish, Jake's lips are back on hers, this time with more fervor than before. Honey shudders, with both the cold from her wet clothes and the heat building in her torso. They break apart as the elevator dings, and Honey is pulling Jake by the hand back to her dorm. She all but shoves him inside, locking the door behind her. Jake wastes no time in crossing back to her, slowly pulling off the hood of her hoodie, his eyes widening when he glances at her mostly dry hair.
"Y-Your hair, it's...shorter."
She chuckles. "Yeah, I just needed a change...you're one to talk, J, I've never seen your hair that short."
He pulls her in closer by her hips, lifting the soaked hoodie over her head as he speaks.
"Yeah, well, plebe summer wasn't my best look, you're just lucky you missed me bald, baby."
Even in the dim light of the dorm room, Jake notes the darkening look of her gaze, her lids growing heavier with desire. Honey's hand comes to the short hair growing on the nape of his neck, her head cocking to the side as she threads her fingers through the new growth, a look on her face he can't quite place. He pulls her flush against him, attempting to read her look.
"Hm, yeah," she starts. "I'm real glad I missed that part. Y'know, why?"
The girl below him moves to kiss the underside of his jaw, making his hands tighten on the grip he has on her hips.
"Why's that, baby?"
Honey's lips move to his neck, his hands slipping past her hips and to the round of her bottom. Above all else, Jake Seresin had been raised to be a Southern gentleman, but his resolve was slipping.
"Because," Honey starts, her accent slipping through, causing the heat in Jake's lower half to grow unbearable as her lips continue their course down his skin. "I like havin' somethin' to hold onto when you're between my thighs."
Long gone was Honey's shy demeanor, and long gone was Jake's gentlemanly resolution. Without a word, he's tossing his own damp sweatshirt over his head and throwing it to the floor with her own. Honey has ditched her drenched shirt and sweatpants, now standing nearly bare between Jake's arms. Without a second of hesitation, Jake pulls her onto the ridiculously small bed, but he pays it no mind, more focused on the grinning girl beneath him. He kisses her lips passionately, his hands resting on her bare thighs. His own heart hammers, and, as he kisses down Honey's neck, he can feel her own beating just as loudly. He pulls away, tossing off his damp jeans to the floor. He looks down at her almost bare frame, his emerald eys heavy with lust, but his voice is cased in affection.
"If this is what you want, that's certainly fine with me, but I need to hear you say it, baby."
Honey looks up at Jake's kind but intense gaze, her heart slowing a bit.
"After that whole The Notebook-esque apology you pulled, yes, I want this."
She nods in confirmation, and Jake wastes no time in attaching his lips back to hers. Honey's hands fly back to his hair, her fingers digging into his locks. Jake's hands come to her torso, carefully sliding off the clothing constricting her chest and tossing it onto the floor. He pauses for a brief moment, staring down as he hovers over her. Honey looks up at him, her head cocking to the side.
"Jake? Hey, what's the matter?"
Jake's mind is in overdrive, and he simply feels the urge to stop and stare at her. She's bare before him, cheeks flushed, eyes blazing with affection. Jake swallows thickly as he pushes hair out of her face.
"Honey, you-you're beautiful. I am the luckiest man on fuckin' Earth, baby."
Honey blushes at his compliment, pulling him back in with a heated kiss.
"You're such a smooth talker, Seresin...but right now, I need you to use that mouth of yours for somethin' other than talkin'."
Jake grins from ear to ear, the usual smirk she's used to seeing painted across his face. His thumb brushes against the fabric adorning her hip, gently pushing it down. He tosses them to the floor along with the other clothes they'd shed, and nudges his way in between her legs. Heat fills the space between them completely as he speaks:
"Yes ma'am."
-
Hours later, in the late hours of the night, Honey is woken by the vibrating of something nearby. Jake-who has her pressed into his chest with the strength of a bear-doesn't budge. Honey, ever the light sleeper, groans, lightly tapping Jake's shoulders. His body moves, but he simply curls back into their shared pillow. She shoves him again, a little harder this time as she speaks.
"Jake," Her words receive no response, so she speaks again. "Jake!"
It's Jake's turn to groan, his arms pulling her closer to his bare chest.
"Hm? What is it, baby?"
Honey's lack-of-sleep induced annoyance fades at the nickname she so adores.
"Your phone is ringing."
Jake groans again, slipping out from under the blush pink sheets and searching for his phone that he assumed was still lodged into his jean pocket. Honey opts to glance at his newly toned arms and strong, broad shoulders, his time training in Maryland obviously having physical gain. He hits the button on the screen, not bothering to look at the caller ID, and speaks:
"Hello?"
"Jacob Thomas! Where the hell are you?!" His grandfather's voice fills his ears, and Jake pales. Shit. He had completely forgotten to tell his grandparents about his detour. "I've been sitting at the airport for three hours, son!"
"Pawpaw, I-I'm sorry, Javy just decided to take me all the way back to-" He's cut off abruptly.
"Look, that's fine, but you could've called. Your grandmother's callin' and she's pissed, son. Just get home, alright? Preferably sometime before Christmas Eve? She's already distraught about Honey not comin' around, so, the sooner the better. Heard?"
"Loud and clear."
"Alright, well, I love you, kid. Be careful."
"Love you too."
Jake hangs up the phone, crawling back into Honey's sheets and pulling her back into his arms. Honey's nose burrows into the crook of his neck, Jake's warm skin against her own far warmer than any blanket she owned. Jake's hand ghosted against her side, the other threading through her hair. His voice is low and soft as he speaks:
"How do you feel about Christmas in Texas?"
Honey's eyes open, looking up at her boyfriend with a shy smile, completely retreating back into her usual quiet self, a stark difference from the heated confidence that had run through her only hours before. Her eyes glimmered in the moonlight, a wide grin on her face as she buries herself back into his neck, his toned arms pulling her in tightly.
"I don't know if they'd even want me there, I should've called Mrs. Janet back, haven't responded in like two weeks."
Jake scoffs, pushing back a hair from her face.
"Don't even think like that. They're gonna be more excited to see you than me."
"Guess we'll find out." Honey pushes up from her spot next to Jake, sliding out of bed and slipping on new clothes before packing a small bag for the road. Jake watches from the bed, a smile across his face. He rests his hands behind his head, his blonde locks tossed about from their rendezvous. Honey turns to him once she's dressed.
"Are you gonna show up like that? Not that I mind this look, but your grandmother might have some issues with it." She laughs lightly, tossing him his now dry shirt. "You might want to get dressed, babe."
Honey stills and grows red when the nickname falls from her lips without any thought. She turns to Jake, his eyebrow furrowed humorously at the nickname, his right pointer finger beckons her closer. She stands next to him beside the bed, his hand pulling her in by the waist.
"Where did that come from?"
"I-I don't know," she admits bashfully. "B-But if you don't like it-"
"Baby, I more than liked it."
He pulls her closer, plopping her back into the sheets with him. She practically rests completely atop him. His hands move to pull up her shirt, his hands resting on her now bare waist. She makes note of his gaze darkening as he looks down at her, his arousal evident against her leg.
"Jake," her voice is a whisper. "We should really get on the road."
Jake smirks, his lips now kissing the sweet spot behind her ear.
"I'll get up as soon as you do."
Unable to resist one another, they were nearly another two hours before they got back on the road. After those hours and a ridiculously long drive back home to Haven, Honey now rested comfortably in the passenger side of Jake's her truck, Jake's thumb rubbing against her thigh. Both of them were incredibly tired from the prolonged trip, and more than ready to collapse into his childhood bed they'd shared for years. As Jake turned onto Seresin Farm Road, Honey felt her nerves kick in. Despite her excitement to return to the home that had nurtured her, she worried that she was going to be a burden for Janet and Jacob. She hadn't told either of them that she'd be coming home, and Jake hadn't either. She slid closer in the seat to Jake, her head resting on his arm. He looks down at her as they pass one of the many fields on the property.
"You alright, baby? You're lookin' a little out of it."
"M'fine, just nervous."
Jake's eyes cut down at her. "Nervous?"
"It's stupid, I know. I just, didn't tell anyone I was coming, and I don't want to be a burden to your grandparents."
"Honey, you're family. You don't have to let us know you're comin'."
Honey smiles, her nerves fading as the house comes into view. Jake parks the truck, the backwards baseball cap over his head covering his short, blonde locks completely. He cuts her a sly grin, a look of mischief drawn across his face.
"Want to really surprise them?"
Honey cocks her head, puzzled. Jake simply kisses her cheek and hops out of the truck, moving to open the door on her side. He comes to the front door, opening it and promptly hiding Honey behind his taller frame. He comes to the entrance of the kitchen, raising his finger to his lips as he leaves her only a few feet away in the foyer. She can hear his boots against the hardwood as he walks.
"Hey," he speaks simply, both Janet and Jacob Sr.'s eyes cutting to their grandson standing in their doorway.
"Jacob! You scared the devil outta me! Get over here!" Janet shuffles the towering young man into a hug after lightly chastising him.
"Sorry I'm late," Jake's voice is muffled against his grandmother's neck. "Had to make a detour and pick up a little surprise for you."
His grandmother pulls away, her eyebrows furrowed as she gives the blonde a questioning look. "Surprise?"
Jake sends her a blinding smile. He pokes his head around the corner, beckoning Honey forward with his pointer finger. Honey shakes her head as she approaches, and Jake slings his arm around her shoulder.
"Hi," Honey speaks quietly. Janet and Jacob Sr. both turn, smiles painting across their faces.
"Honey! Oh my, sweet girl, you did surprise us!" Janet's voice is bubbly as she shuffles over to her grandson's girlfriend, pulling her into a tight hug. "Oh! And look at that hair, it's just darlin' on you!"
Honey feels her heart hammer, and she has to swallow down her tears as the older woman embraces her. Jake's grandfather follows suit, and Honey can no longer stop the tears rolling down her face. Janet wipes them away with the back of her hand.
"You alright there, Hon?" Jacob Sr. fills her ears. Honey nods through her tears, crossing the kitchen back to Jake's arms. He pulls her close, kissing the crown of her head as her tears stain his shirt. Janet's eyes gleam as she sees the two being affectionate again. She had been so worried about them both being apart for so long.
"I'm fine, promise." Honey's voice wobbles slightly. "I'm just really, really happy to be home. I didn't want to be a burden, but, I-I've really missed you guys."
"Oh nonsense! I promise we're happy to have you home, sweetheart." Janet's own face wobbles with emotion. "Now, c'mon, I'm glad I waited to make desserts, now I've got double the help."
She shuffles her bowls of ingredients around on the counter and Honey pulls away from Jake, more than happy to lend a hand with making sweets. Jake slips out of the kitchen to allow them to share their moment, and finds himself lounging next to his grandfather in the living room.
The graying man peers up at him over his glasses, giving him a satisfied look.
"Smart move there, son."
Jake directs his eyes from the black and white film on the TV to his grandfather.
"What do you mean?"
"Bringin' Honey home, makin' things right with her. Me and your Granny learned real quick this place doesn't feel the same when you two aren't around."
Jake smiles, shocked by the amount of emotion behind his usually stoic grandfather's words. The older man only gives him a hint of a smile before focusing on his western movie again. Jake listens as he hears Honey's laughter from the kitchen, and for the first time in six months, he feels content. Exhausted from hours of driving and he and Honey's activities in her dorm, he falls asleep on the couch.
Later, after Honey and Janet have finished their baking for the night, Honey spots Jake sprawled across the sofa, his boots and hat abandoned at the end. She covers him up with the blanket that rests behind him, placing a kiss on his forehead. She hadn't intended to wake him, but his eyes popped open. He's not fully awake, still a little bleary eyed as his hands fumble for her torso.
"C'mon, J, you're tired. Let's go to bed."
"Hm, lead the way, baby."
That night, Jake sleeps with Honey under his chin, tucked comfortably into his hold as tightly as possible. He dreams of Honey vividly-although mundane and simple, his dreams are a comfort: them sitting placidly with one another as she reads and he looks on as her voice fills his ears. For the first time in nearly six months, both of them slept peacefully and deeply, in a way they never could without sleeping next to one another. Tomorrow, when the Texas sun blares through Jake's thin curtains, they'll both be thrown headfirst into holiday preparations. But tonight, under the same roof where their story had ended, it begins again: Honey, in Jake's arms, sleeping content and comfortable in the bedroom up the stairs.
-
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Language of Flowers: Vetch
In the language of flowers, the flower for today, August 13, is Vetch, which signifies shyness. Vicia orobus. Image from Wikipedia. Vicia sativa, known as the common Vetch, garden Vetch, tare, or simply Vetch, is a nitrogen-fixing leguminous plant in the family Fabaceae. ‘Vicia’ means ‘binder’ in Latin; this was the name used by Pliny for Vetch. Vetch is also referenced by Horace in his account…
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#August#birthday#Bronze Age#Fabaceae.#gardening#herbalism#Horace#Language of flowers#Pliny#Vetch#Vicia
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