#mango garden video

[rimon40]

Amazing mango garden in Bangladesh

Bangladesh is an agricultural country. Mango is a profitable crop of Bangladesh. All the best mangoes are produced in Bangladesh. And these mangoes are very beautiful to look at and very tasty to eat. Mango cultivation is very good in the land of North Bengal of Bangladesh. And this mango is delicious to eat. Mango garden are growing at a high rate in North Bengal, Bangladesh. And mango plantation is profitable so farmers are choosing it as a profitable crop. This Mango garden is one of the best mango garden in Bangladesh.

[asociate]

🥰

[hoseoksluna]

STEAM | myg ft. jjk

pairing: boyfriend!yoongi x oc (feat. jungkook)

genre: smut

word count: 9.2k

summary: one video call awakens your neediness for two cocks.

playlist: steam / pinterest board: steam

warnings: female masturbation, mentions of shower sex, praise kink, toying with the idea of polyamory, a hint of voyeurism, oc rly goes through it and faces mental battles, fear, intoxication, punishment, dom/sub dynamics, fingering, choking, cum eating, manhandling, degradation, provocation, mutual masturbation, rough & raw sex, brief oral sex (f. receiving), pet names

note: IT'S FINALLY HEREEEEEE SKFDSFLSFJ, okay so—let me introduce to you a new yoongi series featuring JUNGKOOK oh my god. i am SO EXCITED about this and i wanna apologize for my insane ideas in advance... i'm so sorry, guys. nevertheless, i hope you like this as much as i do, i literally went mad writing this and i smoked so many cigarettes i lost count. please, let me kNOW UR FAVORITE PARTS CUZ I HAVE SO MANY AND I WANNA TALK ABOUT THEM. oh fuck, guys. ENJOY READING SDKFJSD. ⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚

side note: btw, the playlist i made is literally perfect and depicts the fic wonderfully. you can listen while you read! <3

The scent of mangoes finds its way up your nostrils, heating your senses through its balmy touch as you rub the body butter over the damp skin of your arms. Fingers graze along your décolletage, tucking in the fragrance for your boyfriend to breathe in when he comes home. He’s out for the night—said something about his friend finishing his military service, so the whole group was going out to celebrate it. Yoongi was so frantic in his excitement, hastily putting on the first outfit that sparked his eye. Didn’t even touch his hair, only sprayed a mist of his sandalwood and tangerine-tinged perfume. Grabbed his phone, keys, wallet. Barely kissed you goodbye before he fled out of the door.

He didn’t even ask you if you wanted to come along.

You didn’t mind, though—you’re only in the early stages of your relationship. It hasn’t even been half a year since you’ve started dating. And you figure he deserves a night out with his closest friends because you’ve been attached to the hip since the beginning. Funnily enough, you no longer live at your own place. Somehow, you’ve settled in Yoongi’s apartment, never setting foot outside, save for your walks, grocery shopping, the few dates with your friends and work. There wasn’t any conversation about it; you just mostly spend your free time with your boyfriend.

And all you do is fuck, eat and watch movies.

The last time Yoongi took you out was during the first two months you’d been getting to know him. The realization of how long it’s been sends a trail of chills down your arms and you rub it away.

But because you’ve been spending all your time together, you’re glad to have a moment to yourself—glad to be able to take a long hot shower, to do your hair and skincare. Perhaps, you’ll even have time to do your nails and that energizes you, propels you to spread the body butter further down the rest of your body. It is your rose garden, these night times reserved for your hot showers. The place you go to—your hideaway from the pressure and nerves of life that the steam loosens and soothes, especially when you let your sultry playlist echo through the mightiness of Yoongi’s bathroom, your favorite singer’s voice reaching your veins like the growing stems of those roses; pretty, pink and so feminine. Yes, Yoongi’s therapy sessions and thick length might have been a great help, the best in fact, but there’s something about letting yourself be burned off of all that’s been weighing you down and watching it trickle down the drain that is just so satisfying.

It was all that you were once used to. That is, until you met Yoongi.

Showers with him are something else.

Something you never thought you could ever have the blessing to encounter. Showers with Yoongi are intense, so out of pocket that you find yourself thinking about them fondly whenever you’re alone with your thoughts. There, beneath the downpour of the warm water, he lets you see the other side of his ever unyielding stern façade. While holding you, he would make you laugh, then make you moan and break that sound with each hard plunge of his cock. Hair slicked back, smirk adorning that delicious wet mouth, causing him to look like a Mafioso bent on absolutely ruining you. He would tell you the most insane story he heard from his friend, then talk you through the build-up of your orgasm while continuing to the point of that story—seamlessly waving through, never losing tempo. “Then, he went up to his hyung to ask him about what he did—yes, just like that, honey, take it. I know you’re almost there, just listen.” You would come all over his cock, sprinkling him with your essence, right there at the end of his story and like a hungry man, he’d get on his knees and eat you up, muttering how good you are and how well you did along with each swipe of his tongue. Your lungs would heave due to the overstimulation, your legs would tremble, unable to stand and he’d gather you into his arms, fold you like paper into the crooks of his body and let his thick duvet drape over you. He’d fall asleep first, breathing in the scent of your shampoo, snoring softly behind you while spooning you, never letting go of his deathly grip around you. And while you would breathe in the haze of lilac sprayed on his pillows, you’d become aware of the drowsy rhythm of his heartbeat, the lift and fall of his chest against your back, the snug heat of his body and it would lull you to sleep.

That has become your new version of hot long showers.

And if it isn’t this, then it’s Yoongi letting you quickly wash yourself before he’d steal you away, dragging you into this bed, only to carry you back there an hour later.

You speculate he has a serious, adorable case of attachment issues.

That is why you enjoy your exceptional alone shower all the more—you haven’t had it in so long. Only this time, it’s quite different.

You feel him everywhere.

You feel him in the drift of your hand down your tummy because you recollect the way he likes to pepper kisses there on his way to eat you out. You feel him when you round your palms across your backside because you know he particularly likes to leave traces of saliva when he presses open-mouthed kisses there. His love for you circulates in your bloodstream, mingling with the little love you have for yourself, making it bigger, turning it into a turbulent rush of liquid. You sense it tapping beneath your skin, asking for more of your body just like Yoongi does, always begging, begging for more—for more skin to kiss and lick, for more sensitive parts of you to find and nibble on.

Your hands sense the ghost of him even when your fingers slip past your mound and realize that the film of your memories dampened your cunt. You hear the words of praise he’d utter into your ear at the discovery and you sigh at your tender touch. 

That’s a good girl. Messy for me. 

The rotund case of your body butter remains opened, forgotten. You suddenly have better things to do—like give your body the self-care, the self-love it deserves.

It’s a part of the solo girl's night.

A mewl comes out of your mouth at the first round of circles on your clit. Furrowing your brows at the pleasure, you prop your free hand on the edge of the bathroom counter, riding the pads of your fingers. And then, just like Yoongi taught you, you take your digits away, edging yourself, taking them elsewhere. You cry out at the contact of your wet fingertips on your stiff nipple and you pinch the nub, a spasm of delight coursing through your sensitiveness.

You imagine Yoongi standing behind you. Not touching you, merely guiding you, telling you when to stop, when to pick up the pace—when to fill your hole. Watching you in the mirror, hands in his pockets, having a perfect view of your slick-caked folds, of your clit swollen and asking for his tongue. Determined to make you lose your mind by teasing you, letting you only slap your pussy once you’re close. Your essence drips out of you at that thought, making a mess on the floor and you plug it in with your finger, fucking yourself steadily, inflamed by how slippery your heat is, how easy it is to slip the digit inside. Hot flashes close over your body, pearls of perspiration kissing the crook of your neck. You fuck yourself faster and—

A sudden ring of your phone jolts you. And the picture of your boyfriend, half dressed, with the early morning sunlight leaking over the scars and tattoo on his shoulder, crammed inside your screen, greets you.

You pant hard, your finger still inside of you. Delirious.

He must be on his way home. You don’t even know what time it is. 

Leaning forward, you hide your breasts behind your forearm and you swipe your finger to accept his video call.

Blurry Yoongi. The night sky, starlit and alive, behind him. A shoal of silhouettes, some lanky and some buff, all short-haired and all as woozy-lidded as you. The picture smooths into a crystal clear view and there you see your boyfriend, the nocturnal breeze brushing his ebony hair back. Not just him, however, but another male craning his neck to regard you fully. 

His eyes flicking from your neck to the smallest of your exposed décolletage, a smirk blossoming on his face like your imaginary roses. 

Yoongi slaps his phone face down. You withdraw your finger from your heat, a cacophony of giggles, whiny cries and the exclamations of his name emitting out of your mouth. 

He is not, in fact, on his way home. 

It is a warning, his low and strict call of your name back and, heeding it, you take your phone into your hands, so he’s only able to see your deeply flushed face. Device back in his hand, he’s not looking at you at all. As a matter of fact, he’s shooting daggers fueled with deadly nightshade at his friend, grumbling something that you can’t quite make out amidst the chaos and bustle of the outing. The shoal of the rest of his friends and strangers disappear out of the perspective, as if threatened by the cold energy. 

You wish you knew what he’s saying to him. Even your pussy aches to hear it. The principle of him scolding his friend for looking at you at your most private moment scorches you and you’re red, flattered and majestically horny. 

Yoongi turns his head to see if you’re well-behaved and you beam at him, the pulse on your clit intensifying, forcing you to say, “come home, Yoongi.” 

He chuckles, aware of the reason behind your words, pretends he isn’t. “What were you doing, baby?” 

The growth of your grin doesn’t falter. You show him the sheen of your wet finger in the ivory bathroom light, the glint, the stickiness as you push your index finger to your middle and pull away, your arousal on full, filthy display. 

He curses under his breath. Doesn’t give a fuck that his friend sits beside him and adjusts in his seat. Bites his lip briefly. “Stick it in your mouth for me.” 

Doesn’t say the words that so very often follow after in that sentence. Taste yourself. 

Why he doesn’t step aside to take this video call eludes you, but something about you being watched by two pairs of eyes excites you. Enough for you to do as he says. Perhaps it’s due to the fact you don’t know the male sitting beside him and Yoongi is letting him keep his sight glued to the screen. 

Two sharp inhales of breath. Not one of yours. Yoongi readies his hook to feignedly lash out at his friend and you press your thighs together to alleviate yourself of the unbearable feeling between your legs. Confidence, a bad, bad version of confidence suffuses you whole, turning you into a person gone mad by lust. You swirl your tongue around your digit, the tanginess of your taste causing your eyes to narrow, the principle of driving not just one, but two men mad just the same intoxicates you, as if you were there among them, drinking. 

A pair of round eyes peek at the corner of the screen. Soft, naive, so terribly innocent. A dash of sobriety washes over you, owed to those brownish effervescent orbs, a sprinkle shame pooling low in your core. A reality check. You sense some kind of stability of that reality beneath those eyelashes of his, the stability that whispers—is this the right thing to do? 

It’s not rough, it’s not stern, it’s not Yoongi coded—it’s anything but. Gentleness is what you detect, free of any prejudice. 

You sigh. Millions of thoughts about how you could toy with them pass through your mind, but you decide against them, the stability a pillar that blends into your spine, helping it unbend. You can’t do this; you can’t do this to Yoongi and you need to keep your dignity intact in some way, despite the fact that every fiber of your body compels you to do the opposite. You distract yourself by screwing the lid of your body butter back on. 

“Good girl,” Yoongi coos, causing you to whisk your eyes to the screen in perhaps disbelief, shame or your still pending arousal—you’re not sure. How can you be a good girl when you let another man see something so lewd? How can your boyfriend validate something like that? “One more beer and I’ll be home. Wait for me on the bed. As you are.” 

Naked. 

Heat rushes to your cheeks, to the surface of every part of your skin, dragging away small ounces of shame. You curse, mentally, running a hand down your face. Yoongi downs his drink without taking his gaze off of you, watching your reaction, adds once he swallows, “and don’t touch yourself.” 

And with that, he hangs up. 

The harsh comprehension of what the fuck just happened envelops you in a confining embrace, the precipitately increasing weight of shame now a burden on your shoulders that you just can’t shake off, even when you slink your arms through sleeves of your silky robe and welcome in the summer breeze coming to caress your face on the balcony—even when you burst your lighter to a flame and light up your cigarette, inhaling the smoke that you hoped would rid you of its such uncomfortable hold around you. 

You licked your cum clean under the gape of a guy you don’t know in front of your boyfriend. 

His friend heard the order. Don’t touch yourself. Yoongi didn’t whisper it. Didn’t camouflage his words in any way. Uttered them straight and bare, allowing his friend to hear them, despite the fact he almost fought him then and there for sneaking one glance at your moderately naked form. 

Question marks hover in your mind and the pulse on your clit cries, seemingly knowing the answer. 

Did Yoongi like it as much as you did, the aspect of having an audience? 

The wetness in your heat dribbles out, staining your thighs. You squeeze them together, the drag of your cigarette hard and long, expecting to feel your nerves burn off. You gain no such thing—no relief, no lifting of the burden, just constricting tangles in your tummy, zippy spasms of butterflies going mad, mad, mad. 

Perhaps Yoongi didn’t like it at first until he perceived the auspicious debauched look on your face. Saw the way you didn’t hesitate to oblige him when he told you to stick your finger in your mouth. And perhaps the fact that you didn’t express any signal of discomfort was the key to unfastening the leash on his possessiveness over you. 

What have you done? What have you so selfishly and disgustingly done? 

You hang your head in your hands, the white smoke intertwining with the burden on your shoulders and pressing down harder on you. 

That’s why he let his friend hear the command. Don’t touch yourself. He saw the way you indulged in it, and that awakened his liking for it.

Yoongi lied when he said he’d have one more beer. 

By the time you hear the thunder of his voice, all the roses in your garden have wilted, leaving faded, withered petals in its wake—leaving a path of your internal battle all around the apartment for Yoongi to follow. You’ve paced, your bare feet stepping on them. Tried to untangle yourself from the incarceration of your mind by chain-smoking, but to no avail. The only change that took place in your body was the decline of your shame, for you couldn’t help but imagine what could have happened, had you let free rein to your desire—had those round eyes never looked at you with such purity. You figured there wasn’t anything bad about letting your imagination be colored like that, and so you sat on your boyfriend’s couch, cigarette switched to a coconut-flavored vape, and dreamed.

You dreamed about those two men being of service to you, right here on the same couch, where they would lay you down and make you squirt over and over again, betting between each other who could make you come the fastest, counting down your orgasms until the number was a mere blur to you. 

The throb on your clit heightened to heavenly levels and when you emerged from your dream, you found yourself being able to breathe—your momentary disappearance tricking your shame into leaving. It was difficult for you not to touch yourself and you opted to adhere to Yoongi’s wish, not risking to feel worse than you already had. 

The war ended, undeterred by the fact you never expected it to. 

Loud swear words roar in Korean. You rise to your feet to open the front door for Yoongi and you discover that he’s not alone at all. 

The same pair of round eyes, the cause of all the ruckus you just departed from, meet yours, hauling you back there with a force. Your mouth falls agape and before you can react any further, Yoongi stumbles into you. You almost topple over, realizing you didn’t care to steal a glance at the state of him, but the male grabs a hold of Yoongi’s jacket and pulls him back. You wish you had tumbled over and the floor had opened up and swallowed you whole. It would have been less embarrassing than to be stuck in this situation. You want to run, you want to scream— 

“He’s drunk out of his own mind,” the male says, his voice deep like the warm wind before a tumultuous storm, fitting just right with the thunder of Yoongi’s intonation, his gaze wandering over the entirety of your shock-stricken face, taking it in; giving you the same attention that fucked you up hours ago. Yoongi begins to mumble something you can’t momentarily focus on, his hands grasping your waist, lips latching onto your neck. No, you cannot for the life of you focus because the man steals you all over again and you hate how easy it is for him to do that, when you’re far from being available. “Don’t ask what made him drink this much.”

Did Yoongi get drunk because he let his friend in on your most intimate moment? 

Humiliated, turned on and angry altogether, a concoction that simply worsens everything, you draw back from your boyfriend. You want to beat at his chest with your fists just to have some sort of relief from blaming him—because if you blame yourself, only doom consumes you. Why did he call you? Or, essentially, why didn’t he step away to take that damned video call? 

“Thanks for walking him home,” you say eventually, your voice smooth, despite the violence of your feelings, despite wanting to say something else entirely. Your first words to him and, wholeheartedly—despite it all, you hope they aren’t last, even if that possibly makes you a despicable person. 

Yoongi’s friend nods. Chews his bottom lip and lowers his gaze to the ground for a split second. You wonder if he feels the need to remove himself from this uncomfortable situation as much as you do because you can’t read anything in that paleness of his countenance. Not a hint of any emotion whatsoever, just blandness of expression, slightly dimmed by the few thick strands of black hair that have fallen from his disheveled, pushed back mullet. As if they did fight after all, perhaps on the way home, or wrestled if Yoongi was being difficult. 

You don’t realize you and the male are just staring at each other until Yoongi places his hand on your cheek, brushing back a wisp of your tresses. Only then do your eyes flick to Yoongi’s and you finally notice him, the gloss in his hooded irises searching and searching for you, the rosy blush on his cheeks, dry parted mouth and the dart of his tongue as he wets it, softening the flecks that have been created there. 

This is it. If you are focused on him, all things are made right—all things that have been stained get purified and dreams get turned into dust. This is the man you’ve fallen for, who puts you before himself and has done so every day since the moment he made you his. You can’t let anyone else get in the way of the home that your relationship has become, you can’t let your feelings flee—

“For the record,” Yoongi’s friend starts, hand massaging circles on the nape of his neck, the leather of his jacket tight around his arm. Your heart jumps and beats against your chest ferociously. “I didn’t see anything, if that helps you sleep better tonight.” 

It’s such a fat lie and you’re about to shake your head, but then he looks at you with such sincere regret that, ultimately, you choose to believe him. Just to keep your peace of mind unscarred. 

Yoongi tightens his hold around your waist, which grounds you, and a small part of you begins to bloom in healing, disseminating little by little across your whole body. 

A healer with big, round eyes. A good man. 

With a swing, Yoongi closes the door but you don’t hear the click. No, the light spills in from the hallway. Your hands reach for the doorknob but Yoongi blocks them and wraps them around his waist while swaying on his feet. He traces the shell of your ear with his lips, his alcohol-reeking breath wafting over you, and softly, you whine his name. Shuffling beyond the door, feet never entirely moving—the male is still standing outside and he hears as Yoongi hums at your call, as the sound grows into a groan at the feeling of being alone with you at last, at the feeling of all that makes you feminine under his hands. He hears your gasp as Yoongi pushes your chest flush to his body, kisses you harshly and cups your bare pussy. Hears the smack of your mouths, the pop once he withdraws, the squelch of your wetness. Hears as Yoongi murmurs, “you been horny, baby? Wet for me, hm?”

It’s those words that make him shut the door for you.

You made Yoongi drink a lot of water. 

And while he downed the glasses, you ordered him Thai food from his phone, which he now devours. You had wanted to change out of your flimsy robe into your plush pajamas, but Yoongi stopped you with a tight grip on your shoulder and with the nastiest puppy eyes he could manage, considering his plastered state, he begged you not to. Informed you that he wanted to fuck you in your little robe and you told him that if he wanted that, he needed to get sober. 

He’s your boyfriend and you trust him, but you don’t feel comfortable having sex with him while he’s wasted and you’re not. It’s a dangerous territory you don’t ever want to cross. 

So, now he eats as quietly as a mouse, feeding you every other bite with his chopsticks, meanwhile you’re jittering your leg with your arms crossed across your chest, mind full of the male who walked him home. Of the way he pulled you under and resurfaced with you soon after. Of the calm peace you feel all over the perimeter of your mind that peculiarly stresses you out. Of what would happen if you voiced your little dream to Yoongi, especially. 

Was it out of the question or would he consider it? 

Your leg jitters harder. 

You want to tell him, badly. Seeing his friend in real life changed fucking everything. If you hadn’t, you would’ve forgotten about it in the days to come. Yoongi would’ve fucked it out of you in most probability. But those eyes… those eyes got under your skin. 

“Stop fidgeting,” Yoongi scolds with his mouth full of food, no hint of slurring. The hot meal and hydration worked a miracle. “You’re making me nervous.” 

He picks up two cut pieces of chicken with his chopsticks and stuffs your mouth, adding a few pieces of vegetables as you’re chewing. Watches you swallow it, noticing how your eyes are focused on nothing in particular on the other side of the room. Tucking his utensils under his palm, he places his hand on your thigh, halting your restless motion. 

You still won’t look at him. Too lost in the overthinking maze, debating whether you should speak or remain quiet about your desire. A strong part of you fears his reaction and the other half is horrified at the possibility of being turned down—

Yoongi takes his hand away. Props it on his cheek. 

“I can see your pussy from here,” he says, licking his lips. “You’ve shaved?” 

You breathe a soft laugh, turning your head to face him, covering yourself with the small fabric. Dark, but tender eyes, void of any glossiness, awake and stirred—amused. Cheeks awash with color. Lips puffy, a dark tinge of red coating them. A sturdy fist on his cheek, the milky jawline underneath. That messy hair, the slicked-back look ruined by the constant rake of his fingers through them, now falling to the side from the middle. That slender body, clad in the night from head to toe—legs outstretched under the table. So fine, so delicious. A beautiful strong man—all yours. Why do you want another one? 

You slide your leg across his thighs and Yoongi slouches in his seat, discarding his chopsticks. 

“I shaved everything,” you respond, cocking your brow at him—a sly invitation for him to feel its smoothness. 

And he does. Runs his hand up and down your skin. Goes as far as lifting your other leg onto his lap, cradling them both, thumb caressing your calf. The movement causes your robe to expose you again and, cursing the fabric, you go to cover yourself, but Yoongi stops you. 

“Don’t bother,” he mutters. “I wanna look at it.” 

You raise your brows altogether, looking up at him. “You wanna look at her?” 

Yoongi smirks. That dangerous tug of one corner of his mouth to the side. Your death, your undoing, the root of your submission to him. “I want to have her at my disposal.”

You gulp and Yoongi catches it, chuckling. Drifts his hand down your calf, to your heel, to the middle of your foot up to your toes. He plays with your pinky. You note the fact he changed the pronoun after you did. 

Your arousal returns at full speed.

“Did that make you wet?” Low, low is his voice—you feel it prodding at your core, thrumming vehemently. 

You blossom like your roses, thoughts put to the side. 

“I’ve been wet this entire time,” you say, zeroing in your gaze on the flick of dimness that whirls past his eyes. “For hours.” 

He makes a sound of pitiful nature. “Poor baby.” Furrows his brows and juts his bottom lip out, making you weak. Lets his hand roam on your thigh. “So you listened? You didn’t touch yourself?” 

You merely nod your head quickly. You were too distressed to give your body the pleasure it sought. Too busy flaring your lungs with the burn of smoke. And you respected his wish enough to keep your hands to yourself. 

Yoongi coos. “Good girl.” 

A flashback—your lips wrapping around your slick-coated finger, Yoongi praising you and… another pair of eyes watching. Chills spread across your arms, your stomach flipping. Thankfully, your shame is kept at bay. It relieves you. 

“Can I feel how wet you are?” 

A sweet, devious smile. “If you can manage to get to her.” 

You press your thighs tightly together. Yoongi looks at you as if you’ve greatly offended him and alas, he turns your chair so you face him head-on. Forces your thighs apart without any strain at all—and there you feel it, the embarrassment of fucking with him, once your pussy is at complete disposal to him just like he wanted. 

“If your pussy wasn’t so pretty, I’d make you regret your words,” he purrs, eyes fixed on your drenched flesh, hands pushing your thighs back until your knees are at level with your shoulders, folds parting with the movement, revealing more of you. Yoongi wets his mouth with his tongue. 

He thumbs your gleaming lips back and forth, collecting your essence, mesmerized by them. Looks at you intently. 

“It wouldn’t hurt to say sorry, though,” he says, narrowing his eyes at you. “Would it?” 

You grin at him. “Sorry, Yoongi.” 

He rubs your swollen clit in slow circles, still with his bedewed thumb, still with his eyes on you. You choke out a moan at the delight permeating through your being. “That’s not the proper way to apologize, now is it?”

You lean your pelvis into his touch, a natural body reaction unfolding. He disapproves. You scrunch your face. “What should I say?” 

Yoongi tuts. “I’m barely touching you and you already forgot your manners?” 

The only answer you emit is an uncouth whine. 

He shakes his head, putting pressure into his circles for a mere beat of time before he slaps your pussy curtly. A vivid spasm of pleasure fills you and you moan. “Needy girl. Don’t I take care of this pussy enough? What’s this behavior?” 

Another whine. A roll of your body, asking for more of his touch. “Spank her again.” 

A cock of his brow. Harsh, stern, evil. His hand remains propped on his thigh, shoulders hunched. “I didn’t hear you say please. You wanna be bad? You want me to make you cry?” 

You know just how much he’s capable of doing that. You shake your head ‘no’. You want gentleness, the kind you saw in his friend’s eyes—

You flutter your own shut to get rid of that thought. Take a deep breath. 

“Spank my pussy again, please.” 

Yoongi massages the apex of your thigh, dangerously close to your cunt, squeezing the flesh every once in a while. 

“Apologize first.” 

“You didn’t tell me how.” 

He clicks his tongue and pinches your folds and your clit between his fingers. You cry out, and then Yoongi gets up to his feet, leaning over you, propping his hand on the back of your chair. He begins to swiftly spank your pussy over and over again. You just jump at every contact, moaning, eyes flicked to his, never breaking apart. Taking it, taking it so well that Yoongi kisses you nastily, licking into your mouth. Then, he grunts. Fingers flat against your clit, he moves them from side to side. Roses, a myriad of them, flood your form with their freshness and dewiness, with their beauty and delectation and you shudder, you scream, you arch your back off of the backrest—

“Say, ‘I’m sorry, Yoongi. I’m such a bad girl that I deserve every spank and I’ll take it until it hurts.” 

Flabbergasted and horny beyond measure, your mouth falls agape. Your brain turns into mush, the pleasure paralyzing you, your sounds now loud and obscene, the roses in you flitting, growing and murmuring. Yoongi adds more pressure to your clit and your eyes sink back into your head, his darkness wafting over to you, seeping into your skin—now completely yours. 

You repeat after him—word for word. With a simper on your face that causes him to scowl at you, as if you dared to toy with your punishment he bestowed upon you. But then, a tongue prods the inside of his cheek and he laughs, taking a hold of his dominant role and making sure you know. He spanks your clit twice in a row, hands lifting to fondle your nipples. 

“Good,” he praises. “You like that, don’t you? Spanks on your pussy?”

You don’t like that softness. Like the personified thunder he is, it is the calm before the storm. It unnerves you, the expectation of what might come next and your disliking of it. Nonetheless, you brim with the craving to have his fingers inside of you. Your hole clenches at that and Yoongi notices, hissing under his breath. The language of the darkness rises on your tongue and you figure that if you let loose, you’ll get your wish fulfilled.

“Yeah, it feels so good—” He pinches your nipples between his knuckles and you mewl, your lashes shaking at the impact, another set of wetness coating your folds. “Please, fuck me with your fi—”

You don’t even get to finish your sentence. Yoongi plunges his middle finger into your heat, cursing at your tightness, at how slippery you are and at the delight of being filled at last, you knit your brows. With his other finger, he traces the outline of your puckered mouth, his breathing hard and ragged. 

“I’ll do anything for that pout of yours, fuck, no matter if you deserve it or not,” he utters, slipping the digit inside. Instinctively, you suck on it and only then does Yoongi begin to pump you slowly. “You just need a little roughness to be good, don’t you?” 

Dumbly, you nod, swirling your tongue around him, but a faint, silenced part of you begs for the gentleness that you know hides somewhere deep inside his chest, never once unfurled during such intimate times. 

You pay it no matter, too fucked out to think. 

When he adds a second finger into your heat, he does the same thing with his other hand. Two fingers in your cunt, two fingers in your mouth. And he fucks you with both until you gag and a light flashes in his eyes—then, he withdraws all together, leaning against the table, his bedewed fingers coming to rest at his hardened length in his pants. 

Roses, opening. Roses, sighing. 

You breathe heavily, needing to finish, needing to have him in your mouth—

“You liked being the center of attention today?” he husks, surveying your whole body, bent in half. 

There it is—the storm. Just what you expected. Cold sweat dribbles down your spine. And it is fear, what you feel, even when you refuse to admit it. Stiff, tempered fear that pervades each and every vein on your body, regarding being possibly degraded, being made feel dirty—regarding, even, tasting the dark wine of his wrath. 

Such a stark, sudden change. 

You don’t want this. You don’t want any of it.

Abruptly, an internal question comes and pokes you in the middle of your forehead.

Will you succumb to it or will you, with the wildly fresh darkness within you, fight against it?

You take a deep breath, and in with the air also follows, with the little rationality you have amidst the sensuality of your lecherous appetite, the decision to take a hold of it all. To take charge. Just like he did.

You shall prioritize yourself. Your feelings, your desires—your roses.

Your choice envelops your fear in bubble wrap. It doesn’t dissipate. And as much as it pains you, you take a mental note of that. 

“I did,” you spit out, angered by the fact you’re afraid of your boyfriend, and so you stand your ground. “It made me so fucking needy and I want more.” 

The relief that hits you almost causes you to weep and you lower your legs to the ground. Not wanting him to see the film of tears clouding your eyes, you avoid his gaze. Yoongi crosses his arms across his chest and clicks his tongue at you, disapproving. 

“Keep your legs where they belong.” 

“No.”

A lift of his brow. He crouches down to your level and cradles your face in his hand, forcing you to look at him. And there he sees, under the waterfall of your hair, your emotions at his disposal. Yoongi studies you, frowns at you and you want to sob, you want to go home. Shame slithers towards your spine like a ghost, and although it keeps a distance, you feel its presence prickling your back. You cover your cleavage. 

“Why are you crying?” Yoongi asks, a silky murmur, eyes flicking between yours. His fingers don’t caress your skin; they merely hold you firmly, making dents in the skin. 

You don’t trust that voice, dismayed by what might lie under. 

“Why did you do that to me?” you ask in return, and it’s a blue fire shooting out, engulfing the room in stifling heat. You catch a glimpse of its sparks in the dimness of his eyes, of how he’s momentarily stricken by it before it folds beneath the shadows.

“You want to get fucked by someone else?” 

A question for a question. 

You swallow down the lump in your throat, caused by your frustration. 

Your devotion to him didn’t let you go as far as to imagine being fucked by his friend while Yoongi watched, but the brief flash of it in your mind is enough incentive for the heat to spill into you, mingling with the darkness, turning you candescent, traveling through you until it finds your core—and there, it stays. There, it finds home. 

The pulse on your clit returns, filling you with abrupt energy. 

There’s something about him coming up with it that makes you unhinged, but you’re so utterly sick of the instability of your feelings. You need it to stop.

“And what if I do?” you retort. “What will you do?” 

Truthfulness, at last.

Yoongi takes in a sharp inhale of breath, and that is the only reaction you receive from him. Nothing else on his face flickers; no wrath, no sliver of jealousy, not one thing. You stare at an empty canvas, ready for you to paint on. And you simply decide that you want to start. 

You push his hand away from your face. Stand up to your feet. But the hardened look he gives you inclines you to sit back down. 

You fight against it. 

Untangling the knot on your robe, you let him see your bare femininity. The perkiness of your breasts, the long dip of your stomach that he likes to pepper kisses on. Yes, you’re aiming for his weakness. 

And you decide to repeat history. 

You reach your hand down, lower and lower while he stares you down, and you collect your glimmering essence. Sinking your finger into your mouth, you make a show of rolling your eyes back and moaning faintly, softly. Your other hand, in the meantime, unbuttons his pants. 

The breath Yoongi inhaled hitches in his throat. 

“Is this not evidence enough?” you purr, dragging down his zipper. “How else am I supposed to show you?” 

You pull his manhood out as you suck on your finger, all while maintaining eye contact. You don’t touch him beyond that. In fact, you withdraw your hand altogether. 

And then, you collect your essence again. 

This time, you smear it across his bottom lip. Yoongi lets you. Your heart thuds, threatening to jump out of your chest. 

“Your actions during the video call told me everything,” you whisper, catching the sliver of wooziness scattering along his narrowed eyes. “And I think you liked it more than me—the thought of sharing me. You can’t hide it. Not when I saw it.” 

Yoongi growls. Then, he surprises you. 

He parts his lips for you. 

And the contact of the pad of your finger with his wet tongue coaxes a string of your dewiness to drip down the side of your thigh. You moan for him. Relieved, fucked up, woozy just the same. Finally, finally, finally. 

You’re in charge. And it feels divine. 

His length twitches against the fabric of his T-shirt. Long, hard, drooling. Such a delight for you—and so you continue. 

“I also think it made you hard. Not just because you called me when I was touching myself, but because your friend was right there beside you,” you purr, your voice a seductive sound of silk—leading him to wrap his lips around your digit. You moan for him, showing him how much you like that. “Isn’t that right, baby?” Your walls clench at the pet name, solely due to the fact that these soft terms of endearment have always been addressed to you, never the other way around. It thrills you. “I’d always be devoted to you, even if he fucked me. I’d look at you the entire time. If that’s what you want. I had a different idea, but yours is just—” you pause, and again you make a show of sighing and rolling your eyes back, “better.” 

A straight hit to his core. A glee for you. 

But you don’t realize how much you fucked up until Yoongi grips your waist and the hold hurts enough that you wince. 

And then—then he manhandles you. 

Lifting you and laying you down on the table, Yoongi spreads your legs. Watches you drip, watches as the satiny fabric follows the movement of your limbs and reveals you in all your entirety. He pulls you closer to him with a sharp tug until you collide with the tops of his thighs. Bends over you. Hovers his lips above yours. You expect him to kiss you—he even angles his head and rubs the side of his nose against yours—but he never does. 

He only leaves you waiting. Leaves you submitted to your empty expectations, taking charge, taking his control back from you. You shiver in anticipation, reaching for him, however he pins your hands down on either side of you. An angel in a rose garden. 

Yoongi chuckles, darkly, his teeth glinting in the yellow light. You fight against his hold, hips rolling against the underside of his length, beckoning him to do something, anything. You merely manage to prolong the thunder of his laughter. 

“One cock isn’t enough for her, so baby wants two,” he spits. That smirk, the crinkles around his eyes—he’s enjoying this. The hint of degradation doesn’t reflect what’s swarming inside of him, doesn’t reflect the face of pleasure coursing down his body. You smile and he scoffs. “I have enough friends for you to choose from in case you want more. I think you’d be stellar at taking three cocks. Four, even, huh? Would you have enough then? One in your tight little virgin ass, two in your cunt, one down your throat?” 

You gulp, frozen, eyes widening. 

Yoongi bites his shiny lips, nudging the tip of his nose against yours. Kisses you once. Begins to rock his hips, his length sliding across your wet fleshiness. The moan that escapes your throat trembles with each delicious motion. 

“You watch too much porn, honey,” he coos, giving you tiny kisses on the mouth. “I’d kill anyone who would come near this pussy. And I’d kill Jungkook, too, if he so much as glanced at her.” 

So that’s his name. You mewl, knitting your brows. That’s his pretty name. The entirety of your form shivers at the discovery, at the pleasure given to your throbbing clit. 

Yoongi pulls back, setting your hands free. 

You prop your elbows on the table, pouting. Yoongi grasps his length, spreads his arousal and begins to jerk himself off. 

“You’re not fucking Jungkook. You’re mine.” He groans, squeezing his tip; your hole clenches. “Rub your clit.” 

Like him, you spread your arousal on your seashell, the arousal long caused by his presence and now the mention of his name—the reason behind your frustration and his, the reason why you’re spread on the dining table, why your boyfriend is hard. You rub your clit from side to side, amused. 

“No,” Yoongi disapproves, knowing you do the motion when you want to prolong the build-up. “Circles. Make yourself come.” 

You change direction, obeying him. A sly grin blossoms on your lips, dark eyes looking up into his, permeating them, permeating into his soul. You pick up the pace, moaning into your expression of elation. 

“Jungkook is such a pretty name,” you provoke and you heighten your sounds in volume and intensity just to piss him off, just to have your way. 

A grunt escapes him, matching your pace. He wraps his fingers around your throat and squeezes. You hum. 

“A pretty name to moan in my opinion.” A layer of sweat coats your body. Yoongi grasps your jawline firmly and your satisfied laughter inches you closer to your orgasm. You feel the hot flashes, roses surrounding you—its tender petals grazing your feverish skin. You give in, watching Yoongi do the same, his mouth in a tight line, hissing and sizzling, an open fire, an open fire you want to be radiated by, burned whole by. “Just imagine him here, watching us. Oh my god, imagine him knowing he’s the reason why you and I are doing this.” 

Yoongi has had enough. 

He pushes you down harshly. Fills your hole to the hilt without letting you adjust, observing himself disappearing inside of you and begins to pound you into the table. The sound of skin slapping, the hard and quick strokes, the ravaged grunts he lets out, the fast change—it all takes your breath away, so much that you can’t, in fact, breathe. He grabs your face and makes you look at him. The dead of the night captured in his features, you absorb it, whining like the brat you are onto his mouth, mingling into your noises your approval, your yes’. 

Swallowing it, he kisses you, keeping his eyes open. “He could never fuck you like this.” 

You laugh. He swallows that, too, moaning. “What if he could?” 

He taps you on the cheek, a warning, giving you an exceptionally hard stroke that causes you to scream. He pauses. Does it again. Over and over—and your screams echo across the room, your own soul slipping out of your body. Petals flutter against you and you’re done for, hanging off the edge. You’re close, so terribly close. Your eyesight blurs and Yoongi pulls out entirely and rams into you. Again and again, abusing your cervix. 

You moan his name, gone—entirely gone. 

“Yes, moan my name like that. Just mine,” he mutters. “Who’s fucking you this good? Who’s gonna make you come?” 

He rams into you more rapidly than before. Your senses leave you until all that you know is Yoongi. His name, his scent, the wholeness of the night encompassing him. 

“You, Yoongi, you. Fuck, I—”

Yoongi laughs maniacally. “Yes, that’s right. That’s my good girl.” 

He rolls his hips, slowing down the coming of your orgasm, owning you. Lets your senses come back to you momentarily. You swallow, your throat dry and you blink, dazed still. Yoongi kisses you, giving you all that he took from you. 

“Who’s only capable of fucking you like this, honey, hm?” he asks, his voice tender and sing-song. “My pretty honey, so fucked out. So out of it.” 

You whine and you don’t control what comes out of you, your body answering for you. “You, Yoongi. You’re fucking me so—so good. I can’t—fuck. You’re the only one.” 

He smiles down at you fondly, kissing your nose, then your lips, parting your mouth and swirling his tongue around yours briefly. Then he withdraws, begins to fuck you again, slowly, reaching to the side for something. 

Once you see his phone in his hand, your heart stops. And when he puts the device to his ear, your throat dries up even more. You suddenly become aware of the silence all around, especially in your chest. You can’t breathe, you can’t blink—

Yoongi jackhammers into you, purposefully luring your loud noises out of you. “My girlfriend wants to fuck you.” 

You gasp, squeezing your eyes shut, the suddenness, the quickness of pleasure you haven’t yet felt piercing you. Fuck hot flashes and petals, you feel a heavy urge of your orgasm closing down on you. 

“She’s so desperate for you, even when I’m fucking the life out of her.” 

You flutter your eyes open to see Yoongi surveying you. You scrunch your face—so close, so fucking close—and then he puts the phone to your ear. Breathing, hard, ragged breathing fills all of your senses and you come. 

It’s an explosion. Roses bursting, their dew soaking you and Yoongi whole and you exit. You exit out of this situation, this world, this universe while your soul remains here with them. Vibrancy, colors so beautiful and sensations so vivid, ardent and fierce. You don’t know what it is you’re feeling or where you are. That is, until Yoongi’s voice yanks you back to planet Earth, back into this world, this situation—back to them. 

“In fact, she just came for you. Squirted.” 

You sob. Overstimulated, rhapsodic, but effulgent. Yes, you emit light and glow. You can see it in Yoongi’s softened eyes. 

“Think about it. No pressure. Just know she won’t shut up about you. I recall her saying your name would be pretty to moan while she played with her pussy. I think it’s only right you fuck it out of her.” 

With that, he hangs up. 

You brim with so many emotions that it numbs you. Happy tears flow out of your tear ducts—and happily, endearingly, Yoongi chortles. You don’t even feel humiliation or shame. On the contrary, you’re ready to come again. 

Yoongi kisses you and the sounds he slips into your mouth divulge how happy he is about this, how pleased he is with himself. 

You pout, burning your eyesight into his. He begins to rut into you. 

“What, you’re not even gonna thank me?” he says, grinning, as if he wasn’t fucking you at all, as if you two were still sitting at the dinner table, conversing. 

You stammer, head empty, silencing yourself and trying again. “What—what made you change your mind?” 

Yoongi places open-mouthed, wet kisses along the bone of your jaw, and there he seals his answer. “I made up my mind the moment you admitted you wanted to be fucked by him, but you wouldn’t shut up about him. I wanted to hear you babble for me. About me. I just had to mess you up to get to that point.” 

You mewl, running your hands through his sweat-slicked hair. Like a cat, he perks up to your touch, lifting his head, angling it. He kisses you, deeply. Kisses your relief. 

“Where are your manners, hm?” he whispers onto your mouth, giving you hard strokes that erase your vocabulary. You want to make him come and so you push against his thrusts, but to no avail. The intensity won’t allow you. 

“Thank you, Yoongi,” you murmur, cradling his face, pecking him, giving him the softest eyes you could muster so you can show him how much it means to you. 

He approves of your effort on bettering your manners and to reward you, he lifts you up and fucks you in the air. Your breasts bounce against the material of his T-shirt, stimulating you and he alters between jackhammering into you and sliding you up and down on his length. Your pussy squelches around his girth, tightening and Yoongi—

Yoongi loses his mind. 

And it’s him who begins to babble when you snap your hips down on him in circles. 

“Just like that, honey, oh fuck. So good, so good for me.” 

He takes it until his sounds grow in volume and you focus so much on his pleasure that you forget about yours. 

But you don’t let him take charge. 

“Let me fuck you, please, Yoongi. I wanna make you come.” 

Just like you, he’s out of it and because of that, because you asked so nicely, he lets you. 

His chest heaves, staccatos of his choked out breaths sail through the room and you can see it on his face that he’s close. Brows furrowed, bottom lip bleeding due to the way he bites hard on it, the way his mouth pops open and his eyes flutter closed. 

You hold onto his neck with your dear life. 

“Look at me,” you demand and swirl your hips in slow circles around his tip. “I want you to look at me when you come.” 

You’re so stunned that he allows you to be in charge, even more when he truly does open his eyes and pierces his gaze into yours. 

“I need to pull out,” he breathes, but you shake your head, snapping your hips down on him harshly.

“No, I want your cum in me. And I want it to be inside of me when Jungkook fucks me.” 

Yoongi grunts and this is it for him. His cock twitches in you, over and over again and then you feel it—the hot, thick ropes of his cum stuffing you full. You’re so mesmerized by the feeling, by the blissfulness evident on his face, by the smoothness between his brows at last that you can’t even milk him dry. You’re frozen, stupefied by his beauty, by his personal rapture and you want to feel it in unity with him. You kiss him. 

It’s him who fucks him cum into you, burying it deep, moaning into your lip lock. 

It’s him who lays you down to your original position and briefly, feebly licks the sheen on your spread lips before devouring your clit. 

It’s him who gives you the fastest orgasm of your life. 

And it’s him who tells you—in the shower—the story of how he almost beat up Jungkook black and blue once he heard him say how pretty you are.

And it’s you who checks up on him. 

“You sure you’re okay with this?” 

You’re stroking his hair in the bed, the duvet heavy and warm around your body and his, the night overflowing into morning—Yoongi, too. 

He’s falling asleep, but still conscious, still here with you, purring. 

“I wouldn’t be waking him up in the middle of the night if I wasn’t,” he whispers, opening his eyes to look at you, to see you enveloped in the extra blanket of the dawn’s rosy light—glowing, throwing the sun off of its throne. “Poor guy just got out of the military and you’ve already rocked his world.” 

You smile, fondly, thumb caressing his temple. Yoongi hums in appreciation. 

“I’m happy for him he’s getting pussy—one that’s mine. Before he enlisted, he spent all his time painting and getting drunk alone,” he pauses in a thought, blinking at the light. “You still want this?” 

You nod, settling into his chest. Yoongi pulls you closer, tucking the duvet into the lines of your form, bringing in comfort and sleepiness. 

“I’ll make sure you have the time of your life. I’ll be here the whole time, taking care of you,” he promises against your hair and you squeeze him. 

“He hasn’t said yes, though. He could turn me down.” 

“I’ve seen the way he looked at you. You have nothing to fear. He’ll come to you like a puppy.” 

Yoongi sinks the promise onto the plane of your forehead and holds you as you drift to sleep. Happy, relieved, steamed off of all the negative things you went through. It evaporates into the dawn—far, far away from you. 

© 2024 hoseoksluna, all rights reserved.

BACK to masterlist / READ part two 

[jrooc]

✨ Tag Game Wednesday ✨

Thank you dearest @juliakayyy @energievie @mybrainismelted @deedala @mmmichyyy @stocious @francesrose3 for tagging me!

~~~~~~~~~~~ Name: Jess

Age: A little younger than Noel

star sign: Libra ♎️

your first language: English

second language: I can swear pretty expertly in Quebec French

favourite lip product: Glossier’s Bom Dot Com- lifesaving in Canadian winter

the best food dish you can make without a recipe: Chicken Pot Pie or fish tacos with mango salsa. Or seared tuna. I’m a decent home cook.

If you drink tea, what kind?  British black tea. I like Typhoo or the green box

If you drink coffee, what roast do you usually get? Medium

favourite thing to watch on youtube right now:  Gallavich edits or workout videos

favourite thing to watch on youtube in 2012: was I on YT back then? Maybe music videos or Queer as Folk clips?  

favourite item of clothing right now: My Gallavich sweatshirt from Redbubble

favourite item of clothing in 2012: Probably ripped jeans like I’ve been wearing every day for years

fandom

three movies you recommend: Kiera Knightley’s Pride and Prejudice, Garden State, Empire Records

your favourite concert: Rilo Kiley or Wolf Parade. Maybe Modest Mouse? There’s been a lot of shows, man

have you ever unfollowed someone over a fandom opinion? Im afraid of Shameless Reddit

have you ever left a fandom because of the fans? No but I’m pretty new to fandom. Hi! Happy to be here 👋🏻

the best tv show you watched last year: The Bear and The Last of Us (Julia this is great I’m just stealing your answers lol)

do you have a fancasting you just can’t let go of? Noel Fisher and Cameron Monaghon

a ship you’ve abandoned: JimmySteve/Fiona

on a scale of 1-10 how willing are you to share your ao3 history? 10 but Proceed at your own risk. As Kaka said I’m apart of the weird shit channel on discord and have seen some things.

do you have a fandom tattoo? (do you want one?) 1000% but probably something subtle or hidden. Maybe a line of dialogue like “Sorry I’m Late”

what fandom do you wish was bigger? Shrug emoji

has a finale ever ruined a show for you? How I Met Your Mother .. wtf

have you…

swam in an ocean? Yes! (Currently right next to one) ever been vegan/vegetarian? Never I love meat. gone skinny dipping? Yupp gone skiing? Yes but not a fan. been to a convention? For work? Too many.

Waving hi or tagging @deathclassic @skylerwinchester @creepkinginc @ms-moonlight-inn @redwiccanrobin @mickeysgaymom @tv-obssessions @such-a-barbarian @gallavichsuperfan @peppaspice @guinguin1984 @ian-galagher @darlingian @librasrenaissance @samantitheos @sleepyfacetoughguy @crossmydna @heymrspatel @heymacy @sam-loves-seb @sgtmickeyslaughter

[theblasianwitch]

Broke Witch Tips #7: Gardening

For starters I want to say these are all tips I've gathered over the internet and tried myself to test viability. Most if not all these tips can be used for any type of garden but I primarily use them for my indoor garden as I do not own a home. Most of these tips can also be used in small spaces.

Bottom watering

I'm starting with bottom watering because as someone who frequently forgets things it is a plant lifesaver. A lot of gardening tips say don't over or under water a plant and that plants hate wet feet, but with this method the plants take exactly how much water they need and most of the time you can see the water level so you can top it off at any time when you notice the water is a little lower.

Ways to do this are putting a pie tin, tray, or a wide enough bowl under a potted plant that has a drainage hole on the bottom. Fill the container with water and put the plant inside. If it's a fresh plant or dry add a little water to the top soil after and you're good to go.

Save your water bottles

This leans into the bottom watering. If you use the store bought packs of any plastic bottled beverage, you can turn those bottles into self watering pots. Gatorade and Powerade bottles would need more force, so I stick to water bottles and soda bottles.

Clean/rinse out any of the sugary drink bottles. Some sugar is fine in a plant but most of what's in these drinks can be too much.

Cut the bottle a couple inches from the bottom all the way across. The top will be for the plant and the bottom for the water

Remove the bottle cap and with a toothpick or a knife (some caps are thicker than others) poke a couple holes through the cap. Then put the cap back on loosely. This gives some air space to pull the water through

Flip the top upside down and fill it with soil and the seedling, plant or seed you are planting.

This may be optional but I find it easier and more convenient for me. On the bottom part cut down 2 lines about a centimeter or 2 deep. This serves as a tab you can pull down to pour more water into the bottoms for the plants. I tape around the bottles and leave the tab untaped

Put the pieces together. If you read step 5 you can tape them but you don't have to. Water goes in the bottom and when you refill you can just lift the plant slightly up instead

Hydrogen peroxide

Did you know that a little hydrogen peroxide mixed with water is a great seed starter? I don't remember the full science because I watched the video months ago but I've been successful with this tip in all my plants.

Take a bottle of water (yep those again) and drink the top off (usually about how much I use for a pill) and add a cap full of hydrogen peroxide. That's it. That's all you need. You shake it a little to mix it and when you start to germinate seeds use that mixture instead of regular water to help your little seedlings bloom a little stronger. Make sure to keep this mixture separate from your regular drinking water.

Save your prescription bottles

I say prescription because 9 times out of 10 it's the transparent orange bottles.

Instead of zip lock bags I use the containers for my germination method. I found I was wasting a lot of bags just to keep track of the different seedlings and they honestly don't need the whole space most of the time. If I have a mango seed, avocado seed, tulip or lily bulb, then I use the bag method.

The germination method is simple. Take your seeds, wrap them in paper towel, and get them a little wet. Just wet enough to see slightly through but not so wet the paper gets thin. Put them in the container you choose and place container by a window for light. The seeds should sprout between 3 days to 2 weeks depending on the seed type.

Fruit Cups and Egg Shells

When I say fruit cups here I mean the little bowl/cup shape left behind with some round fruits depending on how they're prepped. These fruits include but aren't limited to:

Citrus fruits (orange, grapefruit, lemon)

Dragonfruit

Kiwis

Mango

If you scope out the insides and have a cup shaped peel left behind, add a little soil and a seed and you got a good little starter pot. Once you have a seedling just plant the seed with the fruit cup into a bigger pot or your garden soil.

If you have some good clean cracked eggshells, they can be used this same way.

Lighting and humidity

This is probably the number one success factor I have in my plant growth. Know how much light you plant requires. If it needs full light you will need your sunniest room. If it needs partial light it can practically go anywhere with a window. If it needs low light then away from any window can help.

The number one place I've had success growing things wherever I've lived is the bathroom. If your bathroom has a window, use it for plants. Open the window between spring and early fall sometimes so they get some fresh air but it isn't fully necessary. The humidity from your showers and the light from your window combined with some bottom watering will work wonders.

If your bedroom has a window and you frequently use a humidifier or diffuser it's worth a try there as well.

If your kitchen has a window that's a good place to. And depending on how often you cook or bake it could work for even tropical plants.

Coffee and Cinnamon

Save your coffee grounds and black tea bags. They make great fertilizer and seed starters.

Use cinnamon water or sprinkle cinnamon at the base of your plants to prevent plant fungus and mold of your plants.

EBT/Food Stamps covers herb plants

I just recently learned this and I feel dumb for not knowing it sooner so I'm sharing to make sure others know.

However the pots they usually have them in at grocery stores will need to be changed out and to do this you will need a firm yet delicate touch. The containers I've gotten are usually a thick plastic so cutting the corners with some strong scissors is how I get them out at first to keep them all intact. Once out hold over another container and gently pull the bottom soil to loosen the compacted roots. Prepare another pot bigger than the initial pot and fill with the soil you loosened and some extra and place the plant in. Surround with a little more soil, water and done.

Herb plants covered:

Rosemary

Parsley

Dill

Basil

Mint

Thyme

Some correspondences for things mentioned:

Eggshells: cleansing (mainly from curses), protection, healing, banishing, divination, manifestation

Coffee: cleansing, energy, grounding

Black tea: strength, repels negativity, provides energy

Cinnamon: protection, health/healing, love, happiness, money, happiness, fertility, spirituality, purification, success, the sun

Rosemary: success, protection, courage, healing, banishing, purification, money

Parsley: travel,

Dill: travel, luck, protection, money, happiness

Mint: protection, health, happiness, peace, fertility, travel,

Basil: protection, peace, money, wisdom, courage, the sun

Thyme: health/healing, love, wisdom, courage

Orange: wisdom, insight, wealth, divination, manifestation, peace, well being, the sun

Grapefruit: spirituality, healing, manifestation, purification

Lemon: healing, love, purification/cleansing, divination, manifestation, happiness, the sun

Mango: spirituality, harmony, protection

Kiwi: health/healing, love, fertility

Dragonfruit: strength, spirituality, protection, night and moon

That's all I have for now for gardening. Happy planting yall

✨️💛 The Blasian Witch💛✨️

[snickerdoodlles]

I disagree with your chan headcannon

But I like your other headcannons so can I for macau headcannons if you don't mind

😂 well the good news is that i’m in the fandom minority with my “Chan is loyal to Korn only” camp and rarely ever post about him, so keep asking me about brothers and we'll be delighted together

and yes!!! MACAU MY DARLING BOY!!! i love him SO much, but i will limit myself to only three (3) headcanons for him on this post in a futile attempt to keep it from getting too long

Macau & Kim

his favorite way to piss Kim off is by making club mixes of chinese drama OSTs. he does this with Kim's actual songs too after those start rolling out, but this feud began long before they started posting to social media. Macau also starts off with a larger following for his mixes than Kim does for his covers, and while that eventually plateaus and Kim passes him in their follower counts by the time canon rolls around, Kim is still so fucking bitter. the day Kim starts to let it go is the day Macau posts a video of himself playing hot cross buns on the drama dizi* he stole from Kim years ago.

Macau & Chay

Chay and Macau do Not like each other. i know people like to make them friends, i just don't see it happening without a lot of work first and it's so much funnier to me if they're frenemies. i do love them as online gaming besties tho (before they find out who the other is), because then they both have to live with the mortifying knowledge that Chay once called Macau 'daddy' after he gave him a bunch of turnips in animal crossing, because they are teenagers and teenagers make stupid daddy jokes. any inclinations of trying to be friends because Porsche and Vegas are friends dry up faster than water on a hot pan after that.

Macau & Pete & Vegas

you know what's a great way to bond with brothers and in-laws? movies. you know what's the worst leisure activity to do with Pete and Vegas? WATCH MOVIES. every action scene is scrutinized and criticized and Pete keeps rewinding the same three seconds to mock the character's kick stance. any murder scenes are WORSE. Vegas hates romances and hates ballads. the only things not totally infuriating to watch with him are cooking shows and home improvement shows and the occasional gardening show and yawn. Pete's tastes are much broader thanks to Khun, but he also comes with so many opinions on how to properly watch shows and Macau doesn't actually want to dress up every time they watch a horror film.

so movie nights are almost a bust. they do find some movies they're all into, but it's usually an exercise in frustration. but then, one day while they're queuing up a film they're only 37% sure on, Pete's grandma calls with the hot town gossip--"do you remember Kobb Pete? yes, the nice old man who runs the fruit stand, remember how he gave you a mango on your first day of school and you dripped all down your new uniform? well, you'll never believe what's happened, you know how Kobb passed his stand down to his son Mew and Mew was training up his son Mod to take over one day, except they got into a fight on how to best display the pineapples and papayas and they had a fight, yes, right there in the middle of the road, and Mew fired his son, but Kobb backed Mod, so they opened a rival fruit stand with Mew's wife, but Kobb's wife sided with Mew and got the neighbors involved, and--"

it takes grandma forty minutes to regale the tale of the on-going fruit vendor feud. then she continues to update Pete on the rest of the hometown for another three hours. Macau and Vegas are enthralled. how often does your grandma tell you things Pete, can we be there for the next one, what's the full story behind the thing with Folk's fishing boat, why did you ask grandma if Sine's husband was in the garden--

listen, small town drama is the best drama. and Vegas is having a journey to discover which mafia things are things he likes vs which ones he forced himself to like to survive, and being a nosy cunt sniffing out all the juicy scandals is absolutely something he takes to with glee (he will become grandma's favorite when they visit, they are terrifying together). Macau just loves hearing all the petty drama and neighbors feuds that result in increasingly passive aggressive displays of garden gnomes instead of gunfire. movie night becomes grandma call nights and it's the best family bonding.

*inspired by Jeff buying one of the Wei Wuxian's flutes and the fact that he reportedly learned how to play it because he's a big ol' cql nerd ❤❤❤ this is also a reference to @majestictortoise's fic Middlegame, which everyone should read if they haven't yet and reread if they have

Send an ask, get a headcanon (prev: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9)

[firstsonofoffbrandengland]

maybe everything is awful,

maybe there is nothing left to live for,

but maybe,

just maybe,

your friend just heard a joke she will tell you later,

and someone you follow on tiktok posted a cute video,

maybe the rose bush in your neighbours garden is blooming,

maybe your dog will be excited when you get home,

maybe the mango in your fruit bowl is finally ripe,

maybe tomorrow your heatless curlers will work,

and maybe it will all be okay.

[tokyogruel]

hellos!! is there any frame in triage where shidou Does have the same patterned scarf-thing(?) his sons and wife wear? actually do you know what those mean? (<- i only now noticed them skldjlsd)

hello anon! hola!

to answer your question,, well,, no. not really. but also- well, kind of?

the pattern youre thinking of is called paisley. it has a lot of symbolic meaning that i will get to in this post, but.. shidou doesnt really wear it. kind of

i went through triage again and want to point a few things out:

shidous family wears paisley in 3 different places

his wife, around her waist. shidou mimics this with his apron

his youngest, around his neck. shidou mimics this with his jacket(? why are you wearing it like that idiot)

his eldest, around his waist. shidou mimics this almost exactly- except his cloth belt is light blue, not grey, and plain- no paisley

there is, however- one very brief scene where it could be debated that shidou's belt has a paisley pattern. it moves very quickly- and is heavily obscured by light

the pattern is incredibly faint- but look closely. you can see the paisley. this is the only scene that shidou is shown wearing paisley even remotely explicitly.

(and, before i get into the symbolism of paisley- i find it's important to note that triage has a floral-pattern overlay over the entire video. it is subtle, and you can see it better on a higher-resolution screen. but it is there, and it distorts the video slightly, yet entirely)

but, well. why is paisley so important anyway?

paisley, or Boteh-Jegheh (بته جقه), is a design that has been used for centuries, it originates from Iran (considered "Persian")

"So what is behind paisley’s incredible longevity? Its symbolic power has probably played a part. The original Persian droplet-like motif – the boteh or buta – is thought to have been a representation of a floral spray combined with a cypress tree, a Zoroastrian symbol of life and eternity. The seed-like shape is also thought to represent fertility, has connections with Hinduism, and also bears an intriguing resemblance to the famous yin-yang symbol. It is still a hugely popular motif in Iran and South and Central Asian countries and is woven using silver and gold threads on to silks and fine wools for weddings and other celebrations." (source)

"in paisley people have seen resemblances to a lotus, a mango, a leech, a yin and yang, a dragon, and a cypress pine. Ancient Babylonians likened it to an uncurling date palm shoot. Providing them with food, wine, wood, paper, hatch, and string—all of life’s necessities—date palms symbolized prosperity and plenty. Paisley began its life as the privilege of cosseted, powerful men." (source)

"The circle of paisley’s irony is now complete. A pattern of exclusive royal privilege in the East becomes the pattern of Western capitalist longing. It trickles down on humbler fabrics to working men, gay men, gang members, and Boy Scouts. It signifies free love and forbidden love, belonging and exclusion—a seemingly impossible range of human experience." (source, same as above)

(source)

"In Ancient Egypt, for instance, paisley designs were often used on wall paintings and pottery vessels as symbols of life and rebirth; while in Persian culture they represented heavenly gardens filled with lush vegetation and flowing watercourses – a metaphor for paradise itself. Similarly, this pattern became an integral part of Hindu iconography; being used to depict gods such as Shiva or Ganesh." (source)

"The iconic design consists of intricate swirls and floral motifs which are believed to represent life’s cycle of birth, death and rebirth. It also represents fertility and abundance – qualities that were greatly valued by our ancestors who lived off the land they farmed. In many parts of Asia it was even thought that the paisley patterns had magical properties that could ward off evil spirits." (source, same as above)

"Additionally, the paisley flower is believed to represent the cycle of life, death, and rebirth in many cultures. The intricate design of the paisley pattern is said to symbolize the twists and turns of life’s journey, with each curve representing a different phase of life. The paisley flower is also associated with the concept of inner peace and tranquility, making it a popular choice for meditation and spiritual practices. Overall, the paisley flower holds deep spiritual significance and is a beautiful symbol of life’s journey and the eternal nature of the soul." (source, i recommend reading this page in full- foliagefriend is a site i use often as a resource, and their articles are in-depth and pleasant to read.)

so... thats about it, then!

there have been a few other elements pointed out in these articles though, so ill leave a few resources below to read up on, if youre interested :>

paisley (wikipedia page)

cypress (foliagefriend) // cypress (spiritualunite) // cypress (silentbalance) // cypress (artofmourning) // cypress (meaningsymbolism) // cypress (groovingtrees)

"On the Complexity of Using the Mango as a Symbol in Diasporic Literature"

"In Myth and Literature, the Mango Remains King"

"Leeches in modern medicine"

"Leeches are still used in medicine—yes, really. Here’s why." (this article discusses transplanted tissue)

leeches (wikipedia page, the link directs you towards the medical section of the age)

dragons (worldbirds) // dragons (athsq) // dragons (givemehistory)

yin and yang (wikipedia page) @mukuberry heres your 0510 b/w parallels again

ankh (wikipedia article)

date (allaboutpalmtrees) // date (desertempirepalms) // date (groovingtrees) // date (bateel)

phoenix (wikipedia page)

shiva (wikipedia page)

ganesh (wikipedia page)

gray (colorpsychology) // gray (colorpsychologymeaning)

blue (colorpsychology) // blue (colorpsychologymeaning)

white (colorpsychology) // white (colorpsychologymeaning)

purple (colorpsychology) // purple (colorpsychologymeaning)

(ps. shidou has consistent themes of fertility, ovaries, motherhood, birth/rebirth... the ovarian imagery is very persistent in Throw Down!)

[love-takes-work]

Infloresce & Friends: Charity Festival benefiting the Chattanooga Trans Liberation Collective

I attended the wonderful charity stream for aivi & surasshu’s first anniversary of their label Infloresce, benefiting Chattanooga Trans Liberation Collective. It was a lovely time and included many special guest appearances, including (of special interest to some of my blog readers) Rebecca Sugar and Jeff Ball of Steven Universe fame and aivi & surasshu themselves. Here is an overall outline of the content of the TWELVE HOURS of streaming, including details about all of the performances! And if you’re interested in further supporting the Chattanooga Trans Liberation Collective, you can choose your donate option here.

This is a twelve-hour streamed charity event to benefit Chattanooga Trans Liberation Collective, put on in honor of Infloresce's one-year anniversary. Infloresce is aivi & sursshu's record label for "gentle music that goes hard." With nine releases in the last year among their handful of musicians, largely populated by gender expansive and trans folks, are supporting the trans community with this event.

1. Breakfast Friends - Waffle Talk

This opening panel included discussion of trans community, the beauty of realizing how many people are queer in your community, music, and morning routines. aivi shares what's different about their morning routine because they have a child. Includes an interview with Evelina Kertay, a founding member and leader of Chattanooga Trans Liberation Collective, who shared information about fighting anti-queer laws on the ground without depending on the structures of the oppressor. 

She says it's very important for allies to be willing to put skin in the game and accept risk. Her message to trans people is that past liberation movements and queer elders can show us the way--it's a fight that's been fought before. (Also, ACAB and fuck ICE.) CTLC helps people access trans-friendly medical care, name changes, and escaping hostile situations.

2. Oops! All Bangers. Trans and Non-Binary Radio

With a quirky introduction about the Dunmucky Method of music-making involving a dollhouse as an illustration, we then get some bangers from various trans and nonbinary artists, played over rad videos of trans and nonbinary people from the south skating:

Featuring the following:

telebasher - "Savior"

Zantilla - "Lemon Pepper"

JER - "You Can Get It If You Really Want"

Maddie Lim - "Mango Habanero"

Saria Lemes - "That's Not Candy"

mandrasigma - "Trinket"

FLOOR BABA - "PREHISTORY"

miles morkri - "yarrow"

Ponpoko in the Distance - "Ukijima"

3. Battle Buds: Team Composition Challenge

This was so cool! Six battlers "duking it out friendship style" make music inspired by locations in Chattanooga, each writing a piece in one hour. miles and surasshu discuss the history and process of compos. Compo communities started on IRC back in the day--sometimes 30-minute or 1-hour competitions where people would make compositions and vote on them. Surasshu has competed in hundreds of them. The composers use many different utilities to make their contributions. Throughout the stream, the hosts checked in with each composer and let them talk about their process and philosophy.

Composers and their compositions:

Hunter Van Brocklin - Cerulean Caverns

Frums - Rosebloom Ravine

Ash - Luminous Lagoon

M Gewehr - Groove Gardens

Maddie Lim - Bubble Bay

mandrasigma - Tangled Terrace

4. Button Masher Performance

After another fun Dunmucky intro and music lesson, we get a performance from chiptune composer and performer Button Masher.

5. Digifu Classic

We are treated to some lovely digifu pieces with cool visualizers.

6. Cass Cuttlefish Performance

With another music lesson in the Dunmucky Method ("Structure, Purpose, Vision!") leading off...

We have Aubrey Halo, aka Cass Cuttlefish, sharing some great music, including one that's "too fast to be a waltz." A couple of the songs have lyrics! 

And we even get some cool pixel art from Aubrey.

Aubrey is now transitioning the previous “Cass Cuttlefish” social media to the Aubrey Halo name.

7. The Sandwich Club: Let's Talk About Games!

Next we have some folks talking about games and their contributions! Panel contributors were ChevyRay, Jessi, Ko, Hbomb, Isla, and SonicFox. They discuss experience as gamers, as developers, and as composers. They discuss what their first video games they remember playing, what video game characters are the hottest, whether Shadow the Hedgehog is cool, how much evil can a character do before they're irredeemable, and how to avoid burnout and burnout experiences.

8. Floor Baba Performance

A Muckyverse lesson teaches us about melody! Then Floor Baba takes the stage with a performance: We have MIDIs to jam to and accompanying cool art!

9. Maj7 Community Showcase

Very cool pieces by this collaboration between artists, accompanied by various inventive animations!

10. aivi & surasshu Performance

After another lovely and unhinged Dunmucky Institute music lesson, we get aivi & surasshu's set, opening with "Amalgam" from Steven Universe (Opal's fusion dance song). They then perform a cover of "Yuri on Ice." The next song, "Periphery," is from their upcoming album.

The promised “Love Like You” stream included the crowdsourced choir collected from Steven Universe fan contributions across the internet. 92 contributors sent in their voices! (Small brag: I was in there!)

11. Being a Trans Lawyer in the South

This section has an interview with a lawyer (who also skates!) named Alex Moody (they/them) discussing how laws affect trans and gender expansive people in Southern states, how Southern social movements work, and some of the necessities of playing nice with norms and expectations so we can get shit done. Learn legislators, bother them, make calls, access Mutual Aid where needed.

12. Battle of the Bits Listening Party

After a week-long battle with 69 entries, we get to listen to the top 11!

#11 blower5 - hi

#10 doctorn0gloff - the trials of blossoming

#9 telebasher - NEVER GIVE UP !!

#8 rewitkin - travel log

#7 robotmeadows - we used to run around and not get tired

#6 october - you and me 'til the world ends

#5 damifortune + slash - a chipped stylus

#4 paperaviator - just existing (in a good way)

#3 zenkusa - A Picnic at Twilight

#2 petet - willow

#1 pedipanol - Together

There were also individual awards in the categories of Friendship, Community, Trans Rights, Inflorescence, Charity in Pants, Overall. Very cool.

13. miles morkri Performance

We get another set of instructions to teach us about the Dunmucky method, and then we're on to see miles morkri! This performance has some great vibes with miles singing and playing. I loved this one!

14. STAFFcirc Community Showcase

STAFFcirc composers have their pieces featured with more stunning visuals.

15. Rebecca Sugar & Jeff Ball Performance

Another music lesson teaches us about texture in the Dunmucky Method. And then, we get Rebecca Sugar and Jeff Ball sharing a special performance!

They begin with a guitar and violin duet of "Everything Stays."

Next we are treated to the full version of "Change Your Mind," and then "Love Like You," and finally "Escapism."

It was so special to get to hear Rebecca performing again. I missed seeing performances like this.

16. The Ice Cream Social: Let's Talk About Toys!

miles, aivi, Loni, mandrasigma, and Marcie have a chat about toys, with a big focus on Hot Wheels. They discuss what everyone's favorite toys were as children. Character cars look like taxidermy to aivi. They have started collecting Hot Wheels cars after having a child who is obsessed with cars. 

As an incentive to get to $10,000 on the donations, mandra offered to show a "cursed" Toad-inspired Hot Wheels car. And it happened. (And it was cursed.)

17. telebasher & amimifafa Performance

Another visit from the Dunmucky Institute later, we get some wonderful melancholy, chill music from telebasher & amimifafa collaborating.

18. Infloresce Records Community Showcase

Infloresce artists have their pieces compiled and showcased with more wonderful music videos and visualizers!

19. Zantilla Performance

Lesson 9 from the Dunmucky Institute provides an interlude, and then we get a performance from artist Zantilla. Metal guitar-led music with visuals of the artist going hard jamming out on guitar.

20. Moonlit Vibes: Trans & Non-Binary Radio

Yet more wonderful night-themed songs from trans and nonbinary artists, featuring more great skating videos, this time with a night palette tint. We got some cool stories about the meanings of the songs, the importance of leaving space in music, the despair some trans people feel and make art about, and how aivi ended up working with Zantilla.

Featuring the following:

Slide20XX - "thick as thieves"

amimifafa - "phytogenesis"

aivi (ft. Zantilla, Michaela Nachtigall) - "Tiger"

TV-MA - "I Want to See the Angels"

Isaac Shutz - "Summer Rain"

Lena Raine - "Full Moon Memories"

Siphosomes - "Canopy >> Stars"

paper aviator - "On Foot"

21. quarkimo Performance

Some beautiful night music closes us out with quarkimo playing candlelit piano.

22. Curtain Call: End of Stream Hangout

The Dunmucky Institute takes us to the exit of the stream, with a return of the dollhouse, and some very nice messages about the importance of making art.

With a final plug for the Chattanooga Trans Liberation Collective, the organizers have a celebration that everything worked and nothing broke for the whole twelve-hour stream. There were lots of thank-yous and information about who contributed what. Much outpouring of gratefulness and love was had.

I did not initially intend to attend a TWELVE-HOUR STREAM but by gosh that’s what ended up happening. I care very much about trans rights, as a fellow Southern-state-liver who is watching the freedoms and safety getting scrubbed out of my communities at a frightening rate. Evelina Kertay of the Chattanooga Trans Liberation Collective was a WONDERFUL speaker and badass and I would have loved to hear way more from her, and I believe her trans-led organization is going to DO THE BUSINESS as we fight these laws and prejudices. 

I’m really glad I attended.

[leebrontide]

Behold, my gardening white whale- one of the rarest berries on earth, the cloudberry. This subarctic dwarf raspberry will happily tolerate not only the frigid winters of Minnesota (it's actually native to the northernmost bits of my state) AND the highly acidic soil we've inherited.

It's said to have a flavor like a cross between a raspberry, a mango, apricot and passionfruit, but a bit sour eaten fresh. The fruit is so soft and delicate that they're nearly impossible to ship or sell as fresh fruit. This means they are ideal for, and highly sought after for, jams and jellies.

If you've never heard of them before it's likely because they do NOT lend themselves to farming. For one thing, you have to have both male and female plants, nearby one another. AND it takes years for the plant to reach fruiting maturity- which means you don't know whether any given plant is male or female for years after planting it. To top it off, these little plants aren't heavy producers- growing between 1 and 20 berries per year. Compare that to my raspberries which we were practically drowning in by year 3.

But just look at them.

Just little bitty 8-12" video-game-looking fruit.

And I mean they're called CLOUD berries. I live in Stormbrew House. My name is Brontide. Come on. I need them!

The barriers are these:

Water. These little guys love peat bogs. I don't have any peat. And thanks to Climate change our summers keep getting dryer and dryer. The one thing I can think is if I dig a trench near one of the roof gutter spouts- I've seen people do that to have a bit of wetlands in their yard, so maybe?

They are incredibly difficult to get ahold of! They're a threatened species in MN, and they aren't farmed. Supposedly, even in Scandinavia where they're the most plentiful the location of well-developed cloudberry communities is a family secret passed down through generations. You CAN buy seeds online, but this is a rhizome plant. It's gonna grow way better via rhizome than seed. They're notoriously finicky seeds, and tbh I'm not great at seeds at the best of times. And I can't find rhizomes or cuttings for sale. Even if I did, would they be illegally harvested? It's a conundrum.

So, my dream may or may not ever come to pass. But I live in hope.

I am very open to suggestions.

[alexiusgoesrogue]

Status Update: Day Two

Once again, the morning started earlier than planned (8am). We chose to get ready and go to the shops to buy some drinks and snacks for our lunch boxes we wanted to make for today’s adventure. Bee cooked sushi rice as well for us to pack.

With our backpacks full, we made our way down to the cable car station.

Up the hills, we took a quick look around the museum/shop and enjoyed the view right next to the station.

Our next stop was the Space Place, an observatory and sort of small space museum. We got tickets for both the museum and the show which was scheduled to begin just a couple of minutes after our arrival. The museum itself was fun to explore, and the show was a 20 minute kids animation about the tilt of the earth, and a roughly 25 minute presentation of the night sky, constellations, and the insane size of space, all projected on the dome ceiling.

Afterwards, we went on to explore the park and gardens. About halfway through and after buying some souvenirs (which I won’t reveal here, because they’re gifts for family), we sat down to eat our lunches.

(Video for listening to the amount of noise the cicadas made the entire time)

Food Ranking:

Sushi Rice with Tuna and Garlic powder: 4/5, a really neat idea for an easy but tasty lunch, maybe could need a bit more spices or other ingredients to get a bit more flavour in (or just more tuna)

Apple Juice: 4/5, very similar to the apple juice I know but a bit sweeter. Not overly sweet, but sweeter than I’m used to

Apple-Mango Puree: 5/5, very neat flavour, really just a better version of apple sauce and really great for a small snack on the go

Strawberry jello with Mango: 3/5, the jello is fine and not very sugary (probably because it’s intended for kids to eat), but I found the fruit bits in there to not really fit the flavour profile of the jello

***

The trip continued, and our aimless walking and reluctance to reading the map had us ending up lost somewhere in the complete opposite direction of where we wanted to go. While trying to make our way back on track, we met a very nice woman who let us pet her dog and even take a picture of it.

The walk to the start was treacherous and very uphill. Turns out, we took it backwards, just like the walk around the space museum. We took a break in the grass to recharge and then went back the same path to the souvenir shop, determined to make it to the rose garden as intended. Near the succulent garden, I took the first Polaroid picture.

The rose garden was a very nice place, and right next to was a small market set up, but it was about to close down just as we arrived. Our destination was just around the corner though, a small waterfall with a bunch of ducks living their best lives.

Once again, we recharged for a while and agreed to head back to the hostel for a break. It was 2:15pm that moment, meaning we’ve been up and going for almost five hours already. And we noticed how our tours so far never took us further away from the hostel than a 20 minute walk, which is very convenient when your feet are getting tired.

The walk back was even more treacherous than getting lost on the bush trail in the park, requiring two short breaks before finally making it to the pedestrian bridge crossing the highway. We passed the Beehive, the parliament building, and I took another picture of it and Bee with my camera before reaching our hostel.

We took a couple of hours to unwind and to let our feet rest, then it was time for a small surprise idea Bee had for us, a horror maze.

I’ve never really done a lot of horror related attractions aside from the occasional ride at some fair, but I was willing to try it out.

We had to walk in a single file line, so of course, the coward that I am, immediately called out Bee to walk in front. The maze was pitch black with just very rare bits of light and red dots above our heads to lead the way. The scare actors did a fantastical job, they scared us so well all the time. In the maze, I genuinely was really scared and swore to myself I’d never do this stuff ever again, but it was so much fun after getting out. (Probably because it was finally over.)

(Below is my favorite picture taken of us in the maze)

Before leaving, Bee bought the pictures and video for us to cherish the stupid faces we made, and I got myself a Freddy pin for my collection. After that, we made our way over to a gaming cafe.

We each paid $8 for two hours of time. Bee played League of Legends the whole time with friends, I tried getting back into Halo Infinite and Among Us.

The day came to an end around 11pm, sitting together in the common room while I ate ramen noodles (again) and writing the rest of this report while Bee bullies me for the stupid faces I always pull (love you pookie lol).

Sponsorships of the day: One-way cable car tickets, tickets for the Space Place, Fear Factory tickets, chicken kebab, L&P lemonade

[ciaossu-imagines]

So, for the aesthetics day of the event, I used one of the prompts for Riku from Eyeshield 21! I hope you all enjoy :)

WHAT ARE YOUR MUSE’S AESTHETICS?

[ COLORS ] red. brown. orange. yellow. green. blue. purple. pink. black. white. teal.silver.gold. grey. lilac. metallic. matte. royal blue. strawberry red. charcoal grey. forest green. apple red. violet. navy blue. crimson. cream. mint green. bubblegum pink. sky blue. pale jade.

[ ELEMENTS ] fire. ice. water. air. earth. rain. snow. wind. moon. stars. sun. heat. cold.steam. frost. lightning. sunlight.moonlight. dawn. dusk. twilight. midnight. sunrise. sunset. dewdrops.

[ BODY ] claws. long fingers. fangs. teeth. wings. tails. lips. bare feet. neck.shoulders. legs. freckles. bruises. canine. scars. scratches. wounds. burns. fingernails. spikes. feathers. webs. eyes. hands. sweat. tears. feline. chubby. curvy. short. tall. normal height. muscular. piercing. tattoos. athletic. hair. fur.

[ WEAPONS ] fists. legs. sword. dagger. spear. bow & arrow. hammer. shield. poison.guns.axes. throwing axes. whips. knives. throwing knives. pepper sprays. tasers. machine guns. slingshots. katanas. maces. staffs. wands. powers. magical items. magic. rocks. mud balls. claws. teeth. stealth. strategy.

[ MATERIALS ] gold. silver. copper. platinum. titanium. rose gold. diamonds. pearls. rubies.sapphires. emeralds. amethyst. metal. iron. rust. steel. glass. wood. porcelain. paper. wool.fur. lace. leather. silk. velvet. denim. linen. cotton. charcoal. clay. stone. asphalt. brick. marble. dust. glitter. blood. dirt. mud. smoke. ash. shadow. carbonate. rubber. synthetics.ribbon.

[ NATURE ] grass. leaves. trees. bark. roses. daisies. sunflowers. tulips. lavender. petals.seeds. hay. sand. rocks. roots. flowers. fungi. ocean. river. frozen lake. meadow. valley. forest. desert. tundra. savanna. rain forest. caves. underwater. coral reef.beach. waves. space. clouds. mountains. snow. mist. pond.

[ ANIMALS ] lions. wolves. foxes. eagles. owls. falcons. hawks. swans. snakes.turtles.ducks. bugs. spiders. birds. whales. dolphins. fish. sharks. horses. cats. dogs. bunnies. penguins. praying mantises. crows. ravens. mice. lizards. werewolves.unicorns. pegasus.dragons.

[ FOODS/DRINKS ] sugar. salt. candy. bubblegum. wine. champagne. hard liquor. vodka.beer. coffee. sake. tea. spices. herbs. apple. orange. lemon. cherry. strawberry. watermelon. vegetables. fruits. meat. fish. pies. desserts. chocolate. cream. caramel. berries. nuts. cinnamon. burgers. burritos. pizza. ambrosia. eggs. milk. bird. Mangoes.

[ HOBBIES ] music. art. watercolors. gardening. smithing. sculpting. painting. sketching.fighting. writing. composing. cooking. baking. sewing. training. dancing. acting. singing.martial arts. self-defense. war tactics. electronics. technology. cameras. video cameras. video games. computer. phone. movies. theater. libraries. books. magazines. cds. records. vinyls. cassettes. piano. strings. violin. guitar. electronic guitar. bass guitar. harmonica. harp. woodwinds. brass. drums. flute. bells. exploring.playing cards. poker chips. chess.dice. motorcycle riding. eating. sleeping. climbing. running. jogging. parkour. studying.

[ STYLE ] lingerie. armor. cape. dress. tunic. vest. shirt. boots. ankle boots. heels. leggings.trousers. jeans. skirt. jewelry. earrings. necklace. bracelet. ring. pendant. hat. beanie hat. crown. circlet. helmet. scarf. brocade. cloaks. corsets.doublet. chest plate. gorget. bracers. belt. sash. coat. jacket. hood. gloves. socks. masks. mittens. cowls. braces. watches. glasses. sun glasses. straw hat. visor. eye contacts. makeup. ribbons. hoodie. sweater. converses. tennis shoes. boxers. briefs. boxer briefs. shorts. cargo. cropped pants. crop top. cuffed pants.

[ MISC ] balloons. bubbles. cityscape. light. dark. candles. growth. decay. war. peace. money.power. percussion. clocks. photos. mirrors. pets. diary. journal. fairy lights. madness. sanity. sadness. happiness. optimism. pessimism. loneliness. family. friends. clan. assistants. co-workers. enemies. loyalty. smoking. drugs. alcohol. kindness. love. hugs. kisses. spring. summer.autumn. winter. farmland. countryside. suburban. village.

[paloma-ascends-into-hellfire]

”bad rep is better than no rep-“

no not always. like i recently read a book with a salvadoran character and i was so excited because i’d never seen a character from my country. but this character… was an undocumented immigrant… escaping gang violence and poverty…

not that that doesn’t happen but a) most salvadoran immigrants left el salvador during the civil war. like back in the 70s/80s.

and also… there were a bunch of well meaning people on goodreads going “i had no idea about the Central American Crisis/the situation in El Salvador!”

and that is harmful. because it makes latin america seem worse than it is. it ignores the beauty, like the waves hitting the rocks or coconut water in the dry season and the smell in the garden after a downpour and the warm rain and the vibrant sunsets and the smell of mango ripening. the smell of pupusas and the feeling of a snow cone on a hot day and swinging in a hammock on a warm, humid day. the feeling of your abuela braiding your hair and the smell of your aunt straightening hers. the rapid spanish and the shades of brown and white together and palm trees and kids playing fútbol barefoot in the streets and the sounds of wii video games and soccer and the price is right and big brother and jeopardy.

that is my el salvador. my country has its problems but it’s a lie to say that it’s ugly and ridden with gangs. latin america is beautiful. brown people and poor people are beautiful. indigeneity is beautiful. white supremacy is not.

[to-my-luna]

a playlist with what scene i thought of in each song.

wherever u r - umi, v

slow mornings. hiding under sheets. walking in our garden. basking in sunlight. sharing coffee. see-you-later kisses before work. i-missed-you kisses after work. cooking dinner together. holding each other before falling asleep.

it's you - max, keshi

good morning kisses. sleeping in. going out to visit our favorite cafe. buying each other flowers. a picnic. cool breeze. eating sweets in the afternoon. golden hour. painting the sky and the clouds at sunset.

love. - wave to earth

long cold days apart. video calls every free time. wearing each other's hoodies. watching anime and movies together through gmeet. sleepy i love yous. hugging stuff toys to sleep. looking forward to being together again.

ligaya - mrld

stay at home dates. baking cookies. whipped cream at each other's faces. kissing on the kitchen countertop. building a fort in the living room. cuddling while watching tv.

you'll be safe here - adie

waking up after a nightmare. one waking up to the other sniffling. tight hugs. forehead kisses. gentle caresses. talking under the moonlight. quiet i love yous. humming a lullaby. falling asleep in each other's arms.

off my face - justin bieber

reading books together. stealing glances at each other. discarding them anyways to kiss and kiss and kiss. listening to music while napping on the couch. one waking up first and staring at the other, admiring.

urs - john-robert

coming home to find petals scattered on the floor. dim lighting. a table with candles lit and our favorite meals. early evening with indigo skies and city lights. cold wind. warm lips.

bloom - the paper kites

weekends and early mornings. birds chirping. sun peeking through curtains. pancakes for breakfast. watering plants. soaking in the warmth of sun and coolness of the air. sketching. painting. writing.

everlasting summer - seycara orchestral, hikaru station

a hot morning. popsicles. colorful wind chimes. taking a bite from the other's ice cream. sharing a milkshake. watering plants turns to water fights. sprinklers. hose. water balloons. laying down on the grass in the afternoon.

my love mine all mine - mitski

winding down in the evening. white bath robes and wine. facials. masks. bubble baths together. slow dancing under dim lights. midnight snacks. matching silk pajamas. cuddling in bed.

you'll be in my heart - niki

a week before parting. staying in all day. cooking. taking polaroid pictures. playing guitar and singing together. making bracelets. late night talks. breakdowns. promises. "i'll be back before you know it."

v - razz t, thomas rydell

seeing each other again. tight and long hugs. out all day eating everywhere and talking about anything under the sun. feeding each other. updating each other about everything they missed. holding hands and reassuring squeezes.

afterglow - leila milki

slow and intimate moments. undressing each other, taking our time. feather kisses. soft touches. quiet moans. silk sheets. pink cheeks. rose-colored marks. making love.

love wins all - IU

a bouquet. walking down the aisle. two long white wedding dresses. veils. exchanging vows. two rings.

easily - bruno major

honeymoon. drinking wine. house by the beach. night swimming. coconut trees. cocktails. drinking together and getting drunk. laughing, dancing, singing at the top of our lungs. messy makeouts.

naturally - sydney maxine

cold, strong winds blowing our hair everywhere. the beach at night. a bonfire. walking by the shore, hand in hand. hanging out watching the waves. sharing a tent. stargazing.

tingin - cup of joe, janine

spring in japan. strolls in the park. long coats and foggy air from our mouths. hot chocolate and coffee. taking the train. sharing earphones. eating local snacks from stalls. vintage cameras. cherry blossoms.

it could only be us - beyond the sun

roadtrips. singing with the speakers blasting. sun in our veins. shades, shorts, summer outfits. floaties. mango shakes. playing in swimming pools and splashing water at each other. funny inflatables.

nahuhulog na sa'yo - noah alejandre

getting ready for date nights. doing each other's makeup. going out later than planned because we looked too good, iykyk. arcades. window shopping. just walking, letting our feet take us wherever. ramen for dinner.

every summertime - niki

getting our own place. moving in. working. grinding. saving up to open a bakery, cafe, bookstore, flowershop, or whatever we want. vacations and trips. pets. our dream life

?

[fettesans]

Left, photograph by Toby Coulson, Joan Jonas for Tate Magazine, 2018. Via. Right, photograph by Lukas Städler, editorial for (La) Horde, Age of Content, 2023. Via. Watch.

--

The girls never talk, preferring to let the diegetic sounds of their chosen fast-food joint fill the silence. But over the duration of each aesthetically riveting TikTok, anything can happen. Mangoes filled with ice cream grow on cactuses, whipped cream is plucked off the top of a drink and magicked away. With something for everyone (escapism meets foodie inspo meets cosplay meets mukbang meets ASMR meets comedy), they’re addictive. The girls are the best friends you wish you had. But are they mates or are they siblings? Are they family or are they dating? You want that drink, you want to know what the fuck is going on, you have to watch till the end. And then you watch another. (...)

It’s a bizarrely soothing experience, like watching someone divining the future from chicken bones in an internet age. For another video, they go pastoral. Munchie grinds an Oreo in a pestle and mortar then sprinkles the dust into a medium-sized pot of what appears to be dirt. Daintily, she digs into the biscuit-dust and pseudo-soil, then eats it. It has the same appeal as being a child and creating a potion, or actually eating earth in your garden.

Since starting 2girls1bottl3 on 15th September 2022, the props have gotten more elaborate: taller glasses, pinker drinks, the goops somehow goopier, the slimes and salts more involved, the themes campier, the nail art more intricate, more talon-like. While the cocktail assembly is still treated with blank-faced seriousness, there’s more surrounding slapstick. Munchie’s in the back going into mannequin mode. Munchie’s doggy paddling in a pool using a pink floaty. Munchie’s in a chicken shop wearing a chicken costume. Munchie’s wrapped in Christmas paper, emerging as a present. Like the work of any creative mavericks, M&M’s content has an instantly identifiable gloss.

Separately, the actions they do are nonsense, but together they become a pastiche of nonsense. What becomes clear in their symbolism is that we’re not in this world anymore. In our world, dirt isn’t edible. Entering Mixie and Munchie’s realm, you have the haunting sense of witnessing something important, peering through the veil and accidentally glimpsing something you’re too un-special to understand. (...)

They’re most comfortable defining themselves through their references. In the funniest 2girls1bottl3 video so far, the girls wear full black bodysuits in an homage to Kim and Kanye’s 2021 Met Gala Balenciaga moment (Munchie sniffs a fry through the suit). Paris and Nicole’s fingerprints are everywhere, from their velour hoodies to their fast food filming locations. The references keep coming: lifestyle content creator Avani Reyes is an inspiration, as is Euphoria, the Twilight saga, gyaru and other global subcultures, generally. ​“Japanese street style mag-azines like Fruits,” says Munchie.

If they ever filmed a movie, Munchie tells me it would be inspired by ​“this Japanese porn studio that gets all their girls dressed up in schoolgirl outfits. They do all these silent videos of them playing Jenga and doing yoga together. The way it’s shot is really creepy. It would be us doing mundane activities silently.”

Nicolaia Rips, from Who the hell are 2girls1bottl3?, for The Face, September 18, 2023.

[storyteller-aprendiz]

undefined

I AM SO MAD AT HOW WELL THIS SONG FITS / I APOLOGIZE TO ALL INVOLVE.

Really, I’m so sorry, this was all an experiment.

[ID: Vincent Lin giving a biology class on the importance of various organisms to the ecosystem. Or the Student Body scene but in a happier universe. The song was translated by me from an episode of “Doki: Discovery Kids”]

Lyrics under the cut

VINCENT LIN/CHORUS

Sitting bellow a mango tree

A mango tree!

Sitting down I started to think

We need to take care of the trees

VINCENT LIN

They give us fruits and shadow

They clean the air

They’re also the home (I translated this to pray in the video ‘cause I’m bad a listening)

Of many animals

Ants, squirrels and orangutans

Parrots, owls and cute toucans

And I realized how important trees are

That's why we have to take care of them!

VINCENT LIN / CHORUS

Sitting under a mango

under a mango tree

Sitting I started to think

In a hummingbird that came to greet me

VINCENT LIN

Dancing and singing from flower to flower

They are essential for pollination.

Thanks to them there are colorful flowers

And rich fruits of all flavors

And I realized how important hummingbirds are

That's why we have to take care of them!

VINCENT LIN/ CHORUS

Sitting under a mango

under a mango tree

Sitting I started to think

In a toad that came to greet me, jumping

VINCENT LIN

They may be ugly, but they are important

In our gardens they help us a lot

Sometimes the bugs can be too many

And they are the favorite food of toads

And then I realized

How important are frogs and toads

That's why we have to take care of them!

VINCENT LIN/CHORUS

Sitting under a mango

under a mango tree

Thinking of all that I could see

I came to this beautiful conclusion

VINCENT LIN

Trees, parrots, monkeys, flowers, toads

All beings on this planet are necessary

We all have a mission, a function

It depends on everyone that the planet is safe and sound

VINCENT LIN/CHORUS

We are all necessary!

VINCENT LIN

Trees, parrots, monkeys, flowers, frogs, everyone!

VINCENT LIN/CHORUS

We are all necessary!

VINCENT LIN

to take care of life

For the planet to be safe and sound

VINCENT LIN/CHORUS

We are all necessary!

VINCENT LIN

Trees, parrots, monkeys, flowers, frogs, everyone! 

VINCENT LIN/CHORUS

We are all necessary!

VINCENT LIN

to take care of life

For the planet to be safe and sound

VINCENT LIN/CHORUS

We are all necessary!