#autumn olives
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melgillman · 2 years ago
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It's autumn olive season on the east coast, so I figured I'd share one of my favorite pages from my fruit foraging zine! You can do your local ecosystem a solid this fall by eating this invasive fruit & helping curb its spread.
Read the whole zine here! https://ko-fi.com/s/bd38ecf5e4
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morethansalad · 8 months ago
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Autumn Olive Jam (Vegan)
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coquelicotsenfleur · 2 years ago
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fatimazainab · 9 months ago
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Mary Oliver // Audre Lorde
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thomas--bombadil · 2 years ago
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Goats, tantalized by wintery forest berries.
(rosehips, sumac and autumn olive)
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wannabe-simblr · 10 months ago
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Back to Uni lookbook 🎓
01. Sweater | Skirt | Socks | Loafers | Backpack
02. Top + Cardigan | Pants | Sneakers
03. Sweater | Jeans | Shoes | Jacket
04. Sweater | Skirt | Socks | Shoes
Thank you to all the cc creators ♡ @plazasims @charonlee @rimings @laupipi-blog @seoulsoul-sims and more...
More lookbooks here ♡
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briechyne · 1 month ago
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Burgundy + Olive
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fullcravings · 6 months ago
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Olive Oil Pumpkin Loaf
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19296 · 9 days ago
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Wild Geese by Mary Oliver
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dragonnarrative-writes · 2 months ago
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Part 5 - Courting (Part 2)
Autumn Embers Masterlist
Read on AO3
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CW: Alcohol Consumption, omegaverse relationship dynamics, omegaverse biology, You're Getting More OC Interaction (You're Welcome), brief discussion of intersex conditions, outside POV
Note: There's in world vocabulary that may be confusing! If so, let me know and I'll do a little glossary or something.
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The food seems to settle everyone. You take them all in as they begin eating, noting that while they wait for you to start, John doesn’t require his men show him the same deference. In fact, any formality you observed goes right out the window as Kyle and Johnny swipe food off of each other’s plates. Simon’s food isn’t safe, either, but the big alpha doesn’t seem unhappy about it. The Captain flicks Johnny’s hand away when he makes an attempt at a carrot, but he only rumbles a gentle warning. Johnny responds by spearing a piece of broccoli instead.
“Tell us about your Quasi,” John requests, placing a very nice sliver of steak on the little bread plate between you.
Johnny is obviously staring as you pick the steak up with your fingers and pop it into your mouth. Kyle and Simon are a bit more reserved in showing their interest, but their scents are pleased. John rumbles an approving note, and resumes his meal.
You take a sip of water and smile to yourself. Where to even start? “There’s four of us. Three omegas and a beta.”
“Unconventional,” John says. On your other side, Simon huffs with muted laughter.
“It works for us,” you say with a shrug. “I don’t know that any of us would be happy with something more traditional. We’re a bit… independent.”
“I hear a story,” Kyle says with a grin.
“There’s too many stories,” you laugh. “Mel, our beta, could probably get along alright with a more typical pack. They know how to handle themselves, in a traditional sense. But their mate, Jack - the wee blonde one,” you say, which gets a grin from Johnny, “is a bit of a wild card. He likes Alphas right up to the point where they try to tell him what to do.”
“Sounds a bit familiar,” Simon rumbles. You grin at him before your next bite of salmon.
“And Chrissy,” you finally say, searching for the right words, “is… hot.”
“Pink dress,” Johnny and Kyle say at the same time.
John makes a skeptical noise. “She can’t be in a traditional pack because she’s attractive?”
“She’s a singer, dancer, and model. You’ve seen her on billboards.”
“Still not seeing the problem,” John says.
“You’ve seen her tits on billboards.” When all of their eyebrows pop up, you take a sip of your wine. “She’s also a software developer.”
John says, “Ah.”
Kyle says, “So she also wouldn’t like a… possessive partner.”
“Not even a little bit,” you chuckle. You can’t help but smile as you think about the last time an alpha “commanded” Chrissy not to dance in front of Jack. “We’ve all had… interesting experiences with traditionalists, alphas or otherwise. Finding each other has been… very good. I think I speak for all of us when I say I can’t imagine my life without them.”
“Surprised you agreed to consider us,” Simon rumbles, sliding a bite of his own steak onto your plate. “Sounds like your pack ain’t fond of alphas.”
“Alphas are fine,” you say, shrugging your shoulder. You hum at the way the ribeye melts on your tongue. Simon’s nostrils flare, and you let yourself smirk. “You have your uses, I suppose.”
That gets him to break. The Lieutenant’s scent, already earthy, gets deeper, pungent, like a forest after rain. But where you expected a challenge, he just smells satisfied and aroused. It’s only a moment before you can scent Kyle, then Johnny, spicy and peppery and intent.
“Easy, Ghost,” John says on your other side. “Soap, Gaz, reign it in.”
“Yes, sir,” Simon says, tipping his chin up and looking away.
A server clears their throat before stepping forward to refill your water.
Dinner is over before you realize. Good food, good company, and good wine loosens your reservations until you’re a hairs breadth from leaning on John’s shoulder as you laugh at something Kyle has said. One of the servers inquires about dessert, but Simon declines before you can even look at the menu.
“There’s a nice spot for ice cream,” Johnny says, “Right around the corner, if ye’d like to walk.”
You would like to walk, actually. The check is paid before you even get a chance to consider protesting, and then John is offering his arm to escort you out. He chuckles when you side step him with a wink, then falls behind you as the others snicker.
You feel daring, sexy, walking back through the now crowded garden with four alphas as your guard. Everyone makes way for you. An alpha visibly disapproves of your outfit, but she looks away with a pinched expression just as you feel Simon’s large hand on the small of your back, guiding you between two tables then gone again. A hostess nervously dances away for Johnny when he darts forward to get the door, and Kyle slips inside to take point.
It’s a bit of a power trip, walking in the center of their diamond. John remains behind and to your left, and his hand brushes your lower back to guide you, there and gone again in a way that makes your pulse flutter. It’s inappropriate - you haven’t accepted their courtship, really - but you can’t deny that it feels good. They’ve decided you’re worth the effort of an escort, that you’re soft and delicate enough to protect.
Outside the restaurant, you shoot off a quick text.
You: They’re taking me for ice cream. Best Bitch: secondary location Best Bitch: hot Barbie: !!! Beta Daddy: no You: Just going around the corner, Mel Beta Daddy: hard disagree Beta Daddy: we’re in the parking lot
Your head snaps up to scan the parked cars, and grin when you see Mel leaning against their sedan, three cars away, glaring down at their phone. They’re dressed for the weekend, in a loose, thin sweater and soft looking trousers. You chirrup for them, and take a step forward when they catch your eye.
It makes you jump when Kyle makes a questioning noise and steps close to hover at your elbow.
“My Quasi is here,” you explain. “We’re leaving for Jack’s heat tomorrow morning, so I’m sleeping over.”
Anything else they might ask fades to background noise when Jack pops out of the back of the car. Even before his scent hits you, you can tell he’s deep into his pre-heat. His short blond hair is fuffy from where he’s been running his fingers through it, and his eyes are bright with energy.
He’s also barely dressed. His favorite pre-heat outfit of loose shorts and a crop top that shows the barest hint of under boob leaves a lot of tempting skin on display. When you step forward to wrap him in your arms, it’s easy to slip one hand into the shirt and rub your wrist between his shoulders. He’s a burst of sugar and vanilla for your senses that makes you purr as he kisses at the side of your neck. You don’t resist when he wraps his arms around your shoulders, lifting him by his thighs until he can cling comfortably.
“You smell good,” he whispers, kissing your cheek.
“So do you, pretty.” You press your lips to his eyebrow. It’s an understatement - Jack smells like sex, like love, like home. Holding him makes you feel strong, sets your blood singing.
Mel’s displeased rumble brings you back to yourself. “Back off.”
It’s reflex to look over your shoulder, tucking Jack between you, Mel, and the body of the car. John’s pack is right where you left them, a respectful distance away, looking curious. Johnny is obviously taking in Jack’s scent, but it’s Kyle who’s pupils are dilated, scent burning with interest.
You set Jack down and go shoulder to shoulder with Mel, instincts realigning with your pack in record time. Your lip curls, “Problem?”
“No problem,” John answers, eyebrows and hands up. He looks between you and Mel with obvious confusion, then takes a step back. The others follow his lead. “I suppose this is where we leave you?”
“Don’t have to,” Kyle says.
Simon’s hand lands heavy against the back of the younger man’s neck as Mel’s scent goes hot with simmering anger and your body tenses for a fight. His voice is a soft rumble. “Yes, we do.”
“I dunno,” Jack pipes up, peeking around Mel’s shoulder. “I could go for ice cream right now.”
The hair on your arms stands up at the idea of all these alphas around your omega. “Get back in the car, Jack.”
“Could fetch you some,” Johnny offers with a sharp grin. You can smell him rising to your challenge, though he smells playful instead of mean. “Shame to deny a sweet treat a sweet treat.”
Mel’s spicy scent goes sharp with pure violence, and your own instincts go protective as they growl, “No.”
“I would love a caramel ribbon, actually,” Chrissy’s amused voice floats out from the window, and then she steps out of the car behind you. “Since you’re dragging me away from civilization for the weekend.”
“Soap, Gaz,” John barks. “Three steps back. Now.”
Simon drags them back by the backs of their shirts, eyes never leaving your face. John sidles back, as well, scent muted but muddled with frustration and confusion. Mel growls, low in their throat. You do, too, staring John down until Jack chirps at you and smooths a hand down your back.
A deep breath of fresh air clears the fog that Jack’s pre-heat put over your mind. Of course John is confused. He isn’t challenging you. You’re an omega. He just spent three hours wining and dining you, courting you. And you just challenged him like an alpha.
You don’t even try to hide your embarrassment, covering your mouth as your face floods with heat. “Oh my god.”
John looks between you and Mel. “Did we do something wrong?”
“No,” you groan, squeezing your eyes shut. You haven’t felt this out of control of your body in a long time. “No, I just. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to-”
“She’s omicron,” Mel says, taking a step to put their body between you and John’s pack. “Alpha-Omega.”
You expect the stunned silence that follows and fight back embarrassed tears. While you should be frustrated with them telling your business on a first date, a part of you is relieved to not have to say it yourself. You don’t want to watch them put it together, why your scent is so odd, why you can’t have kids, that you’re the reason your quasi has to function without an alpha.
Omicron conditions aren’t unheard of, but it’s such a hassle to explain. Congenital, it only became apparent when it was time to present. You’d been alpha first, -late, compared to your peers - and then you’d been sick, your body rejecting itself until everything resolved omega. Except your scent, and the things alpha hormones had changed that couldn’t be undone.
“Interestin’,” Simon answers, and the tension drops from his shoulders. “I’m beta-alpha.”
You’re so startled that you chirp. “Oh!”
When you look at them, Johnny is grinning with all of his teeth. “Oh, so that bit of fang wasn’t just fer show.”
Kyle barks a laugh that must shock him, because he slaps his hand over his mouth as John scruffs him with a frustrated growl. Behind you Jack and Chrissy start cackling because they’re assholes. But they also smooth their hands down your spine. When Chrissy ducks under your arm for a hug, you can’t help but laugh, yourself. She’s wearing the same barely there outfit as Jack, all tits and belly and hips, which means the two of them ambushed you on purpose, and probably roped Mel into it.
“Did you actually want ice cream,” you ask, pecking a kiss against her eyebrow, “or did you just come here to disrupt my date?”
“The ice cream is a bonus,” Jack purrs from your other side.
“You’re all welcome,” John startles you by saying. “Our treat.”
Mel grumbles, but turns to look at you, eyebrows up. They still smell a little discontented, but much less actively angry than before. When you tip your chin up for a kiss, they give you their jaw, then buzz their lips against your cheekbone, easy as anything. They reach back to put a possessive hand over Jack’s belly, but don’t say anything one way or another.
Chrissy props her chin on your shoulder. “I vote for ice cream, but it’s your date."
“Oh, is it?” You look at where Simon still has Johnny by the back of his neck, at Kyle’s hopeful smile and John’s carefully neutral face. “I guess if things went well, you were going to meet anyways.”
“I thought the evening was going very well,” John says, with a cautious look between you and Mel. He settles on looking at Mel and continues, “We’d be happy to escort you, though I understand if you all would be more comfortable if we left.”
“I wanna go,” Jack says. “And I want an escort.”
John looks to you, eyebrows up. You look at Mel, who shrugs, then at Chrissy who only leans in to flutter her eyelashes against your cheek. When you look at him, Simon returns your gaze with his hands in his pockets. Johnny is still grinning, but it’s Kyle’s shy eye contact, then looking up and away that makes you relax your shoulders with a huff.
“Yeah, alright,” you say. “I could go for some ice cream.”
This time of year is a bit slow for an ice cream shop. Oliver doesn’t really mind working on Friday nights, but Chloe absolutely hates it. Especially when her friends are live-sub-peeping about the omega she likes sub-peeping some beta who might be in grade twelve. Oliver assumes the problem is that Chloe herself is in grade eleven. She’s been moodily checking her phone all night, spraying scent neutralizer around herself seemingly every five minutes.
He tries not to let her mood affect him too much. Chloe’s in that stage of presentation where anything he says to try to help is either too “fatherly” (never mind that he’s barely six years older than her) or “the shhhtupidest thing I’ve ever heard, Olive, gods above.” All he can really get away with is reminding her to wipe down tables and restock the waffle cones. She’s a good kid and sets to with minimal grumbling, so Oliver promises her she can take an extra scoop of her favorite flavor after close.
He almost calls her from moping in the back when party of eight is about to enter the building, but nearly swallows his tongue when the doors open and one of the biggest, broadest alphas he’s ever seen steps inside. Even with scent neutralizers, he’s intimidating in his all black ensemble. Behind him come three more alphas, two men and a strikingly dressed woman. On her arm is an omega woman he never thought he’d meet in person agian.
“V-iolet Redd!” he blurts, then blushes as he corrects, “Miss. Redd, wow, oh my gosh.”
“Hi darling,” his favorite local celebrity says.
She’s just as lovely as she ever was at either of the concerts he went to before she left her label. He tries not to look for the facial scar he knows hides under her makeup, but it’s hard to look anywhere else without seeing a lot of skin. She smells vaguely of pre-heat, thought maybe not her own, and Oliver wouldn’t want to challenge the alphas she’s with even accidentally so he keeps his eyes down. He prays that Chloe keeps up her usual disappearing act.
“H-Hi. Hello. Hi,” Oliver greets her, lamely, then shakes himself. “Um, can I… What can I get you?”
Miss Redd narrows her eyes. “I know you. We’ve met a couple of times, no? At a meet and greet?”
“You remember me?” He clears his throat of the squeak. “I mean- uhm. Yes. Twice.”
“Yes! Oliver,” she exclaims. Her smile is blinding as she leans on the counter. “You were about to leave for university! I hope life has been good to you, these last few years.”
Before Oliver can recover enough to answer, the woman she’s with puts a hand to the middle of her back. “Jack’s waiting. Mel and John can handle him, but I have a feeling the addition of Johnny is going to be trouble, even for them.”
“Tav’ll be on his best behavior,” one of the other alphas says, with a laugh in his voice.
“It’s not Johnny I’m worried about,” the taller woman chuckles, pressing a kiss against Miss Redd’s temple. She smiles at Oliver and says, “You should come to her next show. She doesn’t perform under that name anymore, but if you’re interested in blues, she’s at The Opal two nights a month.”
“I would love to,” Oliver breathes.
“I’ll write my handles on the receipt,” Miss Redd says with a smile. “Feel free to send me a message, I’ll get you a good table. I can’t promise free drinks, but I’d love to see you there.”
Chloe chooses that moment to do her job and come to the front, sullen as ever. “Hi. I can help who’s next.”
The next few minutes are the usual scoops and cones and cups and tiny spoons. Chloe’s scent goes muddled with nerves when the pretty alpha places his order for five separate scoops, but she only gives him a little more ice cream than she should, so that’s fine. The big one carries ice cream out to the four waiting at the small table on the patio, big and quiet. The alpha with her arm around Miss Redd orders cones for both of them, and two pints to go. The big guy pays for all of it and leaves a generous tip, though he doesn’t start in on his cup right away.
Miss Redd tears the receipt in half and scribbles her information on side. Then she requests Oliver’s for the other half.
“He has a boyfriend,” Chloe mutters.
“Tip her extra," Miss Redd laughs to the big alpha, who reaches back into his pocket without a word. To Chloe, she says, “Keep calling out bullshit when you see it. Oliver and I are trying to catch up so I can get him in to a concert, so I’ll be sure to get two tickets.”
The big man finally breaks his silence as he slips a tenner into the tip jar. “C’n feel Johnny thinkin’ of doin’ somethin’ unwise.”
“Alright,” the other man laughs. “We should go, then.”
“It was great to see you Oliver,” Miss Redd tells him, so sincere it makes his throat tight. “I look forward to hearing from you. Message me this evening if you have a chance!”
“I will,” Oliver calls as the group exits.
Through the windows, Oliver watches the group eat their ice cream and talk. It’s easy to tell who Jack-and-Johnny must be, the way the other omega, just as scantily clad as Miss Redd, flirts with touching one of the alphas and keeps getting redirected and drawn away by someone who must be his beta. The alpha, for his part, keeps offering his cone for the little omega to taste and even looks like he’s leaning in for a kiss before the other alpha who didn’t come inside growls something that makes him laugh and retreat to the other side of the group. But Miss Redd and her alpha date are laughing and no one seems to be interested in trouble, so he makes himself focus on changing out one of the tubs of ice cream.
“You think they’re all one pack?” Chloe startles him by asking.
Oliver considers it, and shakes his head. “That’s… way too big for a single pack. That’s probably three packs, if not just… a couple of proximity packs.”
“I guess that makes sense. The alphas are military.”
“How do you know?”
“I looked at them,” she says, deadpan. “Seriously, Olive, that guy was huge and covered in scars.”
“That doesn’t mean he’s military. They could be bodyguards.”
“Fine,” Chloe says, rolling her eyes. “You win. Happy?”
“Ecstatic.” Oliver rolls his eyes right back.
“Great. I’m taking a break.”
Oliver doesn’t bother pointing out that she just got back from her third break in two hours. Instead, he scoops himself some cookie dough ice cream and says, “Yeah, let’s sit in the back for a bit. But you’re starting the next group. Deal.”
“Can I have some ice cream?” Chloe asks, then grins when Oliver nods. “Okay. Deal.”
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optimisticblizzardglitter · 11 months ago
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Help Hamza Nabil Musa Rebuild His Football Dream💔🥺
Hello, my name is Hamza Nabil Musa, I am 22 years old and from the Gaza Strip. I want to tell you about a shattered dream and perseverance under the rubble. Since I was 15 years old, I have been living on one dream: to be an international footballer. I started my journey in small stadiums, and then moved to Norway, Sweden, Denmark, and Jordan, where I received wonderful experiences that made me a passionate player. I was running on the field as if I was running towards my bright future, and then there was nothing stopping me from achieving my dreams. But, as happens in wars, my life changed in ways I did not expect. The war destroyed my home, as if it had snatched every shred of hope from my hands and thrown it into a storm of destruction. My dreams are gone, my steps falter, and all I have are scattered memories and a past that has passed. Today, as I stand on the edge of the abyss, I ask you to extend a helping hand to me. I need to raise money for my travel, so that I can return to the stadiums of my dreams and continue my journey. It's not just about achieving a dream, it's about restoring my dignity and rebuilding a future that was destroyed. Every donation you make is more than just money; It is support that gives me hope, and gives me a chance to return to the field and regain a dream I thought I had lost forever. You are the hope I need, and your help is the light that will guide me to a new future. I appreciate every moment you spend supporting my cause, and every donation is a step towards realizing my dream that is not dead yet. Thank you from
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@90-ghost @rawliverandgoronspice @imjustheretotrytohelp @timogsilangan @el-shabazzgifted @buttercuparry @school-of-the-infected @atlas-of-galaxies @staff @soon-palestine @palestine-info-uncensored @sayruq @xinakwans @dlxxv-vetted-donations @komsomolka @remindertoclick @el-shabazzgifted @aterglittle @ghostofanonpast @gothhabiba @ashwantsafreepalestine @xclownypunkx @fairuzstuff
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zombilenium · 5 months ago
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An abandoned Scottish Mansion...
Oliver GM. Lewis Photography
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halloweentrickortreat · 1 year ago
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illustrated by Christopher Denise 🍂
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sugaredpastille · 9 months ago
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🧵🫐🪵☕️- visited my favorite bakery since i had no lectures today!! i got a granola raspberry bar, a chocolate & almond croissant, and a pumpkin spice latte 🍂
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visually-corrupted · 2 years ago
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Rachel Cook
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pick-a-plush · 1 month ago
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There is a company called Wrendale that has gorgeous plush toys so a poll for some of them would be great thanks
I had never seen these, they’re amazing! Today here are a few but I’ll do more of them soon!
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