#germination stage

[srivallika0701]

Sow seeds of happiness, hope, success, and love; they will return to you manifold. It's the natural order of thing

[gummi-ships]

Kingdom Hearts Dream Drop Distance Commands - Cure ~ Cura ~ Curaga

[idefilarate]

Reading an overly sentimental poem about Germinal at the stanza poetry festival :-)

@reggiespoon @anotherhumaninthisworld @commiecamille @saltforsalt

[toytulini]

i bet i could keep a fern alive if i was just growing it emersed in a tank, but i cant exactly take cuttings of ferns to root in water, and im Extremely Hesitant to try just Washing Off The Roots bc ive yet to get all the dirt off that way and i Really dont want dirt with god only knows what in it in my fish tank

[dumbf-ked]

it is bery slayful behavior of the nurses to stroke the spot they had just jnjected. like tq my mom is standiing nearby but ur thoughtful practice made me feel more loved than she ever could in revent years

[farmerstrend]

Apple Farming In Kenya; A Comprehensive Production Guide

Apple farming in Kenya has gained significant attention and interest in recent years due to its potential as a non-traditional crop in the region. While apples are not native to Kenya’s climate, innovative farming techniques and a growing demand for fresh and locally produced fruits have prompted some farmers to explore the cultivation of apple trees. Despite the challenges posed by the tropical…

[botanyshitposts]

there’s an agronomy professor at my work who can take a common crop seed, let it soak in chemicals that dye living parts of the seed shades of red, and then can cut it open and tell you WHY it’s rotting instead of germinating AND can give an approximation of what stage of the growing/harvesting process might have gone wrong to kill it and honestly I’m just struck by how much of an incredibly powerful niche skillset this is. just incredibly valuable in any context, not just in dystopian monoculture corn reality where well-bred/treated/engineered crop seeds are incredibly expensive commodities to be bought and sold but also like, for most of human history? like is this not something kings and emperors and civilizations through human history would put you on courts and councils for. person who can tell you why the crops aren’t growing. remarkable

[7twdi29ot5y8og6ndze7m7wexn29cm24]

[janearts]

Hey, so you got to act 3 in the Astarion romance, right? How did Roisa feel about the romance scene in the graveyard?

I did! I finished the game back in September and played out the epilogue patch more recently. Roisia was happy to bear witness to Astarion mourning his past and celebrating a future of his choosing. However, she did take umbrage at Astarion's phrasing that he would be open to having sex that evening. Knowing his history and his relationship with sex, Roisia was really looking for more clear intent, more barefaced desire. I think his wording, "I could be persuaded", would've really bothered her even though she knew he meant it cheekily (e.g., a stupid easy persuasion check, if you will).

I've included a more thorough analysis of her feelings under the cut.

Ultimately, that night poked and prodded at deeper fears and insecurities. Roisia has been left before at the end of a grand adventure wondering how she could have missed the signs that the person she adored did not quite adore her back with the same ardour. Now, older and believing herself to be wiser, she is wary and this time, she tells herself, she will keep herself in check. She will be rational, level-headed, and even-keeled. She will not let herself get swept away by irrational desire, and her love of Astarion is a very irrational, incompatible, unwise desire.

When Astarion said that he wanted her, that she stood by him through bloodlust and pain and misery, that she had been patient, caring, and trusting, that he felt safe and seen with her, and that he didn't want to lose all of that, Roisia felt a sinking unease. A queasy sort of disquiet in her gut. Because she realised that everything he described, everything about her that he praised or acknowledged or thanked, was nothing particularly special in her eyes. As a [former] Cleric of Kelemvor, as an undertaker, as a professional mourner, she has done all of the above and more with the loved ones of decedents as part of her job. It's her sacred duty to stand by people at a low and loathsome point in their lives, through their pain and misery, with patience, compassion, and an extended hand. Hell, that's just another Tuesday!

Roisia couldn't help but feel that Astarion really only loved the things that she could do for him rather than her as a person outside of those acts of service. And those things he described could have easily been done by any Mortarch worth their salt in her place. So does he truly care for her? Or is he really just thankful for the things she's done for him? Those things that really anyone could do? It does not plant a seed, exactly, but it germinates a seed that was already present in her mind, a nasty little thought that she is not special and, therefore, not truly loved in the way that she so very much wants to be loved. That, sure, Astarion cares about her, but only because she just happened to be there and has assisted people in different stages of grief since she was a child. She is fundamentally, inescapably replaceable and it's only a matter of time until Astarion realises that and does what Eustace did: clap her on the back, thank her for her time, and move on to greener pastures whatever or wherever they may be.

It was hard for Roisia to hear Astarion say things like "I want you" and "I love you" when there is a part of herself that deeply, deeply doubts that. That thinks he is wrong even if he is not yet aware that he is wrong. She is torn between taking his words at face value, the words that her heart wants to hear, or reading between the lines, which is what the parts of herself that she calls Logic and Reason call out for her to do. I think in the moment she yields to the former, but after that night, leans towards the latter.

[mindblowingscience]

The Common Spotted Orchid (Dactylorhiza fuchsii) is found all over the U.K. These orchids produce tiny seeds that can be carried anywhere by the wind, yet they often appear in clumps with small seedlings growing near mature plants. This phenomenon has puzzled ecologists since Darwin's time, with the exact reason remaining a mystery. A new study, led by researchers from the University of Sheffield in collaboration with The University of Manchester, provides the first evidence that early stage orchid seedlings germinate and thrive near to adult plants due to a kind of parental nurture using underground fungal networks. Scientists investigated the idea that fungal networks, known as mycorrhizal networks, act as a direct pathway for established orchid plants to share recently produced sugars with developing seedlings.

Continue Reading.

[strawberrysnoopy]

ACT ONE: The Photo Shoot, part one

prologue

summary of the series: for months, leon has been writhing in his bed dreaming of his friend's wife (you). he's been fighting the desperation for months until that one night you bring up a lingerie shoot you've done for a prestigious brand.

summary of this part: recalling the first time you and leon met, you've realized you've been poorly treated by your husband. leon is no different, in a toxic relationship with his wife, ada wong. as the seeds of resentment have begun to germinate, the desire for you grows like a brush fire nearby.

warnings: MENTIONS OF PUKE, BUT NOT ACTUAL PUKING, leon teaches you how to smoke (i don't wanna see no dumb stupid comments about "oh but leon hates smoking", well leon isn't disloyal but here we are), brief use of (adjective) girl (atta girl, good girl, silly girl), praise, mentions of misogyny (not from Leon ofc), awkward, tense ass convos, a fuckton of desc. and a little description, no sex (yet ;) ), cussing, descriptions of fucking, descriptions of masturbation, semi-public masturbation, almost caught masturbating, slight corruption kink (? if you squint), alcohol consumption, use of tobacco, smoking, implied sexual references, etc.

also a/n, writing this as of feb. 2nd, 2024: 60 notes?!!!!! i was writing this for my own personal pleasure but like...??!?! i got reblogged so many times?! im gagged, tysm you guys!!! making a playlist rn, so excited to release the soundtrack. if you see little random edits, i'm probably obsessing over the fic and trying to make it perfect lol/anticipate changes. i would also like to write I DO NOT CONDONE CHEATING! always communicate with your partner, discuss issues, etc. this fic is just a lil’ taboo type of fantasy, do NOT cheat on your partners.

The first time you met Leon was at a grocery store: two weeks before your husband would have any idea of his existence and one week before he had invited Leon and his wife, Ada, over for dinner. You were picking up a bottle of red wine for you and your husband under the guise of wanting something nice for date night. The reality would actually be you were buying it for yourself after your husband decides you're not worth his affections anymore, lazily mosey on over to the spare room, and pull out his phone to text other women. The wine would be something to drink to inebriate you while you watched a shitty re-run of a sitcom from the 90s. Maybe if you got lucky, Golden Girls was on.

He was only browsing, stumbling upon the liquor section and staying to look if there would be anything worthwhile. And there was. It was you. He knew he had to think of something witty, something cool people say, before you left and thought he was some creep staring at you because he saw a smidgen of your breasts in a magazine. "You're a famous model, right?" He asked. Oh, how stupid he felt. He was a chronic overthinker: thinking of every last terrible scenario, a trait he picked up after becoming an agent. This had certainly felt like one of the worst options he picked, especially with how you would-- You interrupted him. "Yeah, that's me." The subtle sweetness, the slight rasp in your voice was better than anything any street drug could offer with the amount of dopamine flooding into his brain: overloading every neuron, synapse, dendrite, and cell membrane in his body.

But for whatever reason, he stretched his hand outwards and lazily grinned towards you. "I'm Leon." "Nice to meet you. Well, I'd say my name but y'know..." He nodded in an awkward agreement before you could even finish your sentence, but not daring to go as far to interrupt you. He felt as if he already started off the conversation with a cumbersome beginning. "Right, right. So, that's your real name? I see a lot of models use stage names n' stuff like that." He adjusts his weight from one foot to the other, switching the hand holding his grocery basket from his right to his left. He felt so...awkward around you. Maybe it was the fact you were a famous model, or maybe it was the fact you were just so calm. The joke causes a soft chuckle to leave your lips and the mere look of a fleeting moment of bliss to cross over your features makes his knees turn into gelatin. Those nerves solidify into stone when the overwhelming sense of guilt hits him like a tidal wave but allows it to wash over him for the sake of continuing the conversation.

"Yeah, just my regular name. I'm not that creative outside of modeling. Usually the photographers do the thinking and the creative processes for me." He chuckled, shaking his head and barely moving himself a little closer. Leon wanted to sink in that gentle, warm, and soft presence you carried around with you. Your aura felt comforting: like a hug after a tough day: it had felt so much more different than his wife. True, Ada could be affectionate but that's usually only after something good has happened to her or Leon was her last resort of attention. He really hated how much he would act like an obedient dog, awaiting her arrival home, coming back to her after she's treated him like dirt. You? You felt so goddamn altruistic and considerate. And he's only known you for three minutes.

You notice he's gone silent and you're silently hoping he thought you were cool. Cool. Like a teenager trying to fit in. You silently cringe at yourself until he smiles at you, almost like he's signaling you to continue the conversation. You can't think of any conversation starters. And you're a model for gods sake. You're usually so outgoing and social with other people but now it's like a cat came by and stole your voice box. Thankfully, he takes over that portion for you. "Buying wine?" He knew it was dry as all hell but he wanted to steer the conversation away from him being a fan of your modeling gigs. No, he just wanted to talk to you and discover what you were like behind the camera. (Okay, and maybe he wanted to see if you'd flirt with him.) "Yup. But I'm just buying wine for..." You paused, about to say 'for me and my husband' but your throat becomes dry whenever you feel like you're about to announce it to him. "...Myself."

He smiles. He likes that you're awkward in real life. The fact made you feel more real, like you weren't just some sexy model with expensive tastes and a bratty attitude. You were a person like anyone else.

"Right. Me too, just uh...just browsing." You nod, fidgeting anxiously with the sleeves of the coat you decided to toss on last minute before leaving the house.

The conversation went on to end when you eventually realized you would be home late. Although you thought that worrying your husband a little would be the thing that reignited the spark in your marriage, you knew that punctuality was a habit you'd like to upkeep. That, and you also knew if you talked to this handsome stranger for longer, you'd cheat on your husband. That night, Leon had fallen asleep to the thought of you for the first time. Soft little visions of pressing his lips against yours, caressing your cheek softly and whispering sweet nothings into your ear, etc, etc, cheesy lovey dovey bullshit. So much more different than the truly filthy thoughts he had about you nowadays. You're torn from your conversation with your friends when you make eye contact with him. You can practically feel his eyes travel from the hair at the highest point on your head to the very last bit of your black, leathery heels with perfect pretty pearls embellished on the pump. For a moment, you feel like you're trapped in some type of horny labyrinth while you stare longingly at him.

He's ripped out of his own longing by the feeling of your husband's hand slapping his back. Ada sat beside Leon with her arm protectively wrapped around his bicep. You felt as if the gesture were a signal to everyone at the party that Leon belonged to her. He was under her control, nobody else's. Or maybe the protective message was for her husband, as if he was an unruly friend to her husband. And you could agree with that. You fell in love with your husband because he was wild and care-free but after the diamond ring was slipped onto your ring finger, you realized he was also carefree in the sense that hurt you: talking to other women behind your back, and leaving for days at a time only to come back inebriated. But you stood by his side, no matter what. You hated how you felt like a doormat but you didn't know what else to do besides stay married and play the role of an oblivious wife while your husband fucks other women in various positions. In a way, you and Leon sat in the same loveless boat. Who knew when that same boat would be shaking from the violence of the both of you fucking, clothing pulled out and to the side instead of being fully taken off. Your thoughts become interrupted by an unmistakably handsome voice.

"Hey."

You feel a hand being placed upon your lower back except it's so much more different than your husband's. The palms were rough, callouses inside the nooks and crannies, and pulsing veins make you all dizzy if you thought about it for too long. His voice was dampened with some undertone of lust, his fingers prodding into the skin of your sides. He's always been a little too handsy for a man that's supposed to happily married. But you always figured touch was how he communicates: touch. But he's never touchy with your husband. Or any of your friends. And he missed you? Sure, your're friends due to the fact your husband was friends with Leon. (Even though you met him first, but I digress.) The simple phrase had your mind reeling, cheeks flushed red due to the hidden intimacy of it all. His wife shoots him a look and his hand immediately retreats back to his side, fighting the urge to palm the engorged erection struggling against the seam of his boxers. "Haven't seen you in so long, hm? Thought you disappeared on me for a minute." He's holding his facade of being totally and irrevocably in love with Ada up and steady. Like he had no feelings for you other than being friends.

"Of course not." You murmur, feeling a hearty chuckle reverberate from his chest. He takes his index finger and his thumb and gently swiping it against your chin.

"Atta girl." And of course, with how hoarse his voice is, your panties are instantly puddled with a thick pool of arousal. You hate his stupid, thick, sexy, and deep voice. You especially hate his voice whenever you imagine him degrading and praising you whenever your husband was away and you just happened to have your hand down your underwear, playing with your clit to ease the throbbing impulses you felt for Leon. He gives your back a single pat before moving back to stand beside his wife. You really hate that you feel jealousy flare like wildfire within you, but you brush it off.

Everyone would eventually be drawn to the several dining tables that were arranged in a group and had golden candlesticks and smooth white tablecloths on top. Once you are seated, you observe that Leon appears to be striving extra hard to guarantee his place beside you. He looks right at you for a brief moment. And only then can you see, just a hint of thirst sprouting in his eyes, before he glances away from you and gives Ada a quick smile while patting her thigh.

It's only a few minutes before Leon decides to break the awkward silence.

"How's that modeling gig going?" You nod, gulping down way too much champagne.

"Good, been going good. Have to admit it gets a little boring posing in front of the camera after a while but can't bite the hand that pays you, right?" You joke, and the table laughs with some sense of jealousy. "Nice to hear. What was your latest shoot?" He asked, leaning forward in a sudden rush of intrigue. Then those words pass your lips. Words he had never anticipated, even in his wildest guess (oddly.)

"A lingerie shoot. For Chanel." The table goes quiet. And everyone, including your dumb-ass husband, look at you. Someone (Ada) clears their throat in the dining room, hinting at you to elaborate and it's almost like you suddenly developed to ability to hear from light years away.

Leon, who had just finally got his goddamn boner under control feels his cock twitch back to life, fully hard instead of a semi this time. And correct him if he's wrong, but he starts to feel pre-cum smearing his dress pants. He's thankful he chose the black slacks instead of his lighter colored ones otherwise this would be downright humiliating.

"Sorry, um...I did an intimates photo-shoot for Chanel a few weeks ago for their new line of clothing." That seems to help lighten the mood a lot more because everyone goes back to their conversation with their respective friends, the embarrassing "confession" from you immediately leaving their minds. "The theme was Overtime. Like, staying later in the office with my shirt unbuttoned and stuff. Nothing that interesting."

The table simultaneously nodded, Leon going as far to excuse himself for a cigarette.

"If you'll excuse me, I'm gonna go have a smoke." Leon scoots out from his seat, heading towards the upstairs balcony to take care of business. Asshole, leaving me with his mean ass wife.

You decide to join him outside.

The air had finally gotten too tense, felt too judgmental for your taste. Scampering outside, you're met with the sight of Leon smoking a cigarette outside. That's odd: you've usually pegged him to be the straight-laced, no-nonsense type of man yet here he was, smoking a cigarette while leaning against the balustrade of their friend's top floor home. At the sound of the balcony door opening, he turns his head to see what you're doing out here. His eyes scan you, almost like he would while he's in combat but it's more or less to get another glimpse of the outfit you were wearing tonight. Okay, and maybe he wanted to commit the sight of you to memory.

"You alright?" He asked, trying his best to look straight forward when you step closer and cross your arms over the balustrade.

"M'fine, just needed a minute of fresh air, I think." When you sit beside Leon, there's a few things you notice. The first was his outfit. A white button-up that usually would be covered by his black suit jacket, though he left it behind on his chair in the dining room. There's also mentioning his blacks slacks, fitting his muscular thighs a bit tight but loose enough so they're comfortable. Then there's the dress shoes, ones he wore at his wedding due to how overly formal they looked. Maybe he wanted to get some more use out of them? Who knows.

"What about you? Why are you out here?" You decided to be the one to take the reigns since the air outside had become incredibly awkward as well. "Same. Thought I'd take a minute of fresh air, you know?" The second thing you notice about Leon is how much he calms you. More importantly, how much you never noticed that you were anxious when you were around others. He had this aura of relaxing or maybe you were just buzzed, who knows that either? Maybe it's the cigarette, speaking of...

"I haven't smoked since college. Cigarettes, I mean. Don't think I even know how to do it anymore." The confession makes his head tilt to the side, now taking more of an interest in the conversation than before. He grinned wolfishly, taking your chin in one of his thick and strong hands and pulling your head forward. For a second, you could almost be dumb enough to think he'd be moving in for a kiss. Of course not. You'd never be that lucky. "Open f'me, sweetheart." And like an obedient puppy, you opened your mouth just enough so your pretty pink-shaded lips could be parted. He placed the cigarette on your lip, the moisture making the filter stay in your mouth alongside his index and middle finger holding it up, thumb brushing your chin. Little hazes of grey smoke dance along your tongue without even taking a sip of the smoke yet, your lips trembling with a lustful agony. "Now close your mouth..." He whispered, his damp and hot and horny breath hitting your ear like an affectionate declaration of love. "And inhale."

You close your lips around the cigarette, faintly tasting the flavor of him where he had sucked on the cigarette. You got notes of citrus, rum or some expensive, top-shelf label of whiskey he used to help quell the pain he experienced on grueling missions, tobacco, and maybe even the slightest hint of his wife's lipstick. Chanel's Rogue Allure, if you had to guess correctly. "...Now hold it..."

You held it. "Silly girl." He whispered, pulling the cigarette away from your lips while you slowly exhaled the rest of the smoke you've been holding in your mouth and then some. You can't tell if it's because of the alcohol, Leon's presence, or your mere anxiety but you begin to feel dizzy. Thankfully Leon seems to swoop in with his questions to keep your head in the game. Bless him.

"Why'd you need a minute, huh?"

For a minute there, you didn't know how to respond. Looking down at the leathery pumps you chose for the evening, you begin to wonder why you even chose them instead of answering his question. But you answered him. Eventually.

"I'm just tired. This whole night just seems a bit…” You gesture to the party in the background. “Fake. I don’t want to be here."

He hummed in agreement, but it felt like more of a signal for you to keep going. "I'm also just terrible at making conversation. Especially when it's awkward and silent."

His eyes flicker down to the pumps he'd already stared at tonight, not finding an interest in them anymore than your own body. He tucked his lip between his teeth, pulling the pink flesh away from his mouth before he spoke up again. "You're not that bad, you know? I think you're pretty good. How about this?" He pauses. Then a beat passes.

"Tell me something true. Tell me something you wouldn't brag to anyone about." He moved his cigarette to rest on the balustrade instead of the space between his fingers. "Something that's yours...and only yours."

You look at Leon with wide eyes, mouth agape as you struggle to answer his question. Your eyes rake down his face from the space between his eyebrows to his parted, pink lips: just a little chapped from the cold chill of the night air. You wanted to kiss him. All of those times you've had him over for dinner, all of those times you've spent with your hand down your panties while your husband was away on "business": dreaming of his best friend, Leon, and god, all of those times you thought about throwing caution to the wind and leaning in to press your lips against his: the sum of all of those moments had you quivering for more.

But you'd never cheat. You have a reputation. You have a husband that gifted you the pretty diamond ring on your finger. But how did it always feel so...impossible? Like you couldn't live another day if you weren't able to fuck Leon like a rabid dog in heat. But he was staring at you, almost as if his eyes were laser beams and searing holes into your skin: you had to answer.

"I don't know what I could tell you that's only mine." You chew on your lip. "Huh. How about..."

How about the fact I wanna kiss you? I wish it was you I was in bed with rather than my stupid, cheating husband? The fact you are so much hotter than him?

"I hate being a trophy." And that brings the biggest grin on Leon's face. A massive shit-eating grin. Leon had gone stir crazy. He wanted to peel your entire being open, see all of the nooks and crannies of your soul and devour it whole. But now wasn't the time to scare you away: even if he wanted to fuck you, you were still a friend to him. So he calmed down. "I can't say that's too surprising. I mean, who would? Being able to be pretty and have money being tossed at you is nice until you want something deeper. Then it seems like one of the only things that are scarce in your life."

You nod, letting out a breath of consolation. "That's exactly how I feel. Like my only purpose is to sit still, look pretty, serve my husband, and be a hole when he needs it."

His eyes become downcast, looking down at the garden on the ground level of the restaurant. "I get what you mean." The moment was interrupted by a waiter peeking out on the two of you: head poked outside of the door that lead to the outside area. He pulls his hand away from your soft skin and back to his side, sighing wistfully that tonight wouldn't be the night he gets to act on his desires for you. Damn it all to hell.

"You should head back. I'll be back, yeah?" You nod and within a few seconds, you've returned to your spot at the dinner table. He sighs, hand slipping down to palm at his erection. Fuck. Can't go back like this.

Just resist. You're just another woman. You have a husband, He thinks to himself, I'm married to a lovely woman. I am a faithful husband. The silent mantra he practices on himself works about as well as a band-aid on a bullet hole. Resist. God, but you looked so pretty tonight. That cute jewelry set you wore with your little black dress? Hot. The smoothness of your skin?

Resist.

But he can't stop picturing you on your knees in front of him, sucking on his cock. The sounds your perfect, wet mouth would make. How he'd ease himself down your throat. How you'd whine.

Resist.

Or how about when he could be fucking his cock into your tight, wet, and warm cunt? The tip of his dick kissing your cervix? Or what about the positions he could force your body into? Like having his arm around your throat, bicep curling into your mouth to muffle your moans from his wife hearing? Or how one of his hands would be gripping your hips while he needily plowed into your pussy, while you begged him to let up. Resist.

Resist.

Fuck it.

In the few moments after he's excused himself from you, he's already rushing to the upstairs bathroom of the restaurant: thanking the holy beings above for making it a single stall bathroom for his jerking pleasure. He hastily unbuckles his belt with one hand, other hand impulsively opening Twitter as a first resort to find some fashion fanatic post about the slutty lingerie photo-shoot you did for Chanel. Alas, you're still a bit of an undiscovered goddess in the modeling industry at the moment: so Google is his next best option. He pulls out his half-hard but hardening cock from his jeans before he can even find your photo-shoot and gives it a quick few pumps to ease the throbbing that's starting to build up in his loins. Eventually, he finds it. Thank fucking god because the creativity for his fantasies are beginning to run quite dry. And instantly he's grunting and groaning while he strokes his cock and scrolls through the multiple scandalous photos the photographers took of you.

"Fuck." He winces in pleasurable agony as he stares at quite possibly his favorite photo of you. The photo was in black and white: theme being "Overtime" like you mentioned. The white button up shirt was undone, revealing you had nothing on underneath, and allowed for the side of your perfect breasts to be revealed. If he squinted just a little harder, he could see your puffy nipples threatening to peek out of the shirt. He tried squinting a little harder to see your nipples a little easier. And oh my god. You have piercings?! He almost shot his entire load on the spot. God, he needed to fuck you. And hard. He groans as he feel himself get closer to orgasm. Closer, and closer, until--

"Leon?"

Fuck. It was you. God, of course you're so goddamn sweet, checking up on him to make sure he's okay. He didn't dare stop stroking himself off, especially not when he's got jerk-worthy material of you almost catching him. That's also not mentioning the soft intonations of your almost innocent voice right there. He's trying not to cum too quick, wanting to savor those images for as long as he could but he also realized his wife might start asking some questions and she wouldn't be on the other side of the door if she came upstairs. "F-fuck, yeah?" He responded after much too long of hearing your sweet voice. "Did you need something?" "Are you okay? I just got worried when you left. You've been gone for like..." You check your wristwatch: a classic and dainty Timex from the 80s with a blank band that wrapped around your wrist snugly.

"Fifteen minutes. Do you need water? Ibuprofen?" He shakes his head as if you could see him while he continues to jerk himself off, hand swirling in a sort of cranking motion as he tries to work his cock to orgasm. But his pre-cum isn't coming out fast enough, not as fast as the pumping motions his hand was doing right now, so he spits in his hand before bringing his palm back down to his cock and lathering his dick in spit. You believe him enough to think he might be getting ready to vomit.

"Nah, jus'...ngh, drank too much, I think." Please keep talking, He selfishly thinks to himself. "Oh, okay. Well, if you need anything, just text me?" He nodded, grunting out a thank you while he continues to dream of ruthlessly fucking you until you're embedded into his mattress. He wants you. He needs you. He feels himself get a little closer until he finally releases into his fist. His hot and sticky cum ran down his palm while the waves of post-orgasmic bliss and post-nut clarity simultaneously moved together as one. For a few minutes, he's panting like a rabid dog in heat until his breath eventually stills and he's able to walk downstairs and look his wife in the face while giving her the impression that he definitely didn't just masturbate to his best friend's wife. When he sits down at the table, the first person he makes eye contact with is you. You smile at him, mouthing a "you okay?" because, of course, you're still worried about him being sick. He nods with a grin peeled onto his face. Because he came to the sound of your voice. And you didn't have a fucking clue.

credits: snoopy divider by @animatedglittergraphics-n-more heart divider by @saradika-graphics

[yoga-onion]

Legends and myths about trees

Celtic beliefs in trees (24)

Ss for Straif (Blackthorn) - Samhain/Hallowe'en, opening the veil between this world and the spirit world…

“Mother of the Forest – The Celtic Tree Calendar (Ref), The Beginning of Winter”

Colour: red; Star: Mars, Saturn; Gemstone: black opal; Gender: female; Patron: Morrigan; Symbol: inevitability of death, protection + revenge, discord + insidiousness

Blackthorn forms vigorous young trees from the roots, from which dense, thorny bushes grow in dense clumps. Armed with sharp thorns, which can damage human skin. It already starts flowering in early spring, at the beginning of March, and with the onset of winter it produces black berries, commonly known as 'sloes'.

Samhain is the most important festival in the Celtic world, celebrated on 1st November to mark the beginning of winter and therefore the new year. The name 'Samhain' means 'end of summer'. The seasons change from summer to winter (the time of the dead) with this festival. It is a period of short days and darkness, but it is a necessary period for nature to enter a peaceful rest and welcome the bright spring. In the calendar of agricultural societies, this is an important stage for the germination of crop seeds.

Samhain was the solemn festival, when fires were lit and sacrifices were offered to gods such as Taranis and Teutates. Importantly, it was believed that on the eve of this day, 31 October, a passage between this world and the spirit world was opened, allowing inhabitants from the other world to come and visit this world freely and interact with humans in this world. However, while the comings and goings were sometimes favourable, it was also envisaged to be dangerous.

On the Samhain eve, children went from house to house to collect festive offerings. It was also customary to celebrate Samhain by placing a brightly burning candle inside a hollowed-out turnip at the entrance to the house.

Blackthorn is a tree traditionally used for black magic and witchcraft, and its thorns remind us of our own insidious roots. We must remember that we hurt ourselves and others in many ways. If we think about how to avoid hurting each other and courageously face our own insidious roots, blackthorn can guide us to overcome this dark side of our human nature and help us to return the debts of our hearts.

It also helps us to accept the fact that death is something from which no one can escape.

木にまつわる伝説・神話

ケルト人の樹木の信仰 (24)

SはStraif (ﾘﾝﾎﾞｸ) -サウィン/ハロウイーン、現世と霊界のヴェールを開く…　

『森の母 〜 ケルトの木の暦（参照）、冬の始まり』

色: 赤; 星: 火星、土星;  宝石: ブラックオパール; 性: 女性; 守護神: モリガン; シンボル: 死の不可避性、保護+復讐、不和+陰湿

リンボクは根の部分から活力のある若木を形成し、ここから棘だらけの茂みがびっしりと密生する。鋭い棘で武装したリンボクは密生した藪をつくり、人���の肌を傷つける。３月初旬、早春にもう花をつけ始め、冬の訪れと共に、通称「スロー」という黒っぽい実がなる。

サウィンとは、ケルト世界で最も重要なお祭りで、11月1日に冬の始まり、つまり新年の始まりを祝う。「サウィン」とは「夏の終わり」を意味する。この祭りを境に季節は夏から冬（死者の時期）に変わる。日が短く暗い時期だが、自然が穏やかな休息に入り、明るい春を迎えるために必要な期間である。農耕社会の暦では、作物の種が発芽する重要な時期でもある。

サウィンは最も重要な厳粛な祭りで、火が焚かれ、タラニスやテウタテスといった神々に生贄が捧げられた。重要なのは、この日の前夜、10月31日に現世と霊界を結ぶ通路が開かれ、あの世の住人が自由に現世を訪れ、現世の人間と交流できるようになると信じられていたことだ。しかし、その行き来は時に好ましいものであったが、危険なものであることも想定されていた。

サウィンの前夜には、子供たちが家々を回り、お祝い用のお供えを集めた。サウィンを祝って、内部をくり抜いたカブの中に、明るく燃えたろうそくを立て、家の入り口に飾る風習もあった。

リンボクは伝統的に黒魔術や呪術に使われる木であり、その棘は私たち自身の陰湿な心根を思い起こさせる。私たちは、さまざまな形で自分自身や他人を傷つけていることを忘れてはならない。どうすれば互いを傷つけずにすむかを考え、勇気を持って自分自身の陰湿な心根と向き合えば、リンボクは人間が持つこの暗い側面を克服するように導いてくれ、心の負い目を返上するように導いてくれる。

そして、死は誰も逃れることのできないものであるという事実を受け入れる助けにもなってくれる。

[vitaminseetarot]

PAC Pick a Palette: One Small Thing That Will Help You Grow ☕🌞💴

Welcome back to my pick a card readings! This time we're looking at the time between our New Moon sowing and our Full Moon flowering. At this stage of the magic making process, work has gone underway to build upon the seed that was germinated and growth happens. Soon it will reveal the peak of its work through the flower, but before then the stem and leaves also deserve attention. They're the ones helping to power the whole thing!

It's important, then, to look at what you're using and where you are in the process. Not everything is meant to grow at the same rate, but sometimes the right ingredients like plant food or pruning clippers can do an incredible job at providing a needed boost.

Pick one of these three color palette swatches to find out what you can add or remedy to assist the growth of your own magic!

(Forgive me if the spread out looks a bit funky this time, it's all about finding the part of the house with the best natural lighting!)

Pile 1: Coffee Beans

Draw: Four of Wands; Queen of Pentacles, Page of Wands, Death 18 - Communication, Aries Rising - Act, Heartsease - Compassion "Tread a little more tenderly."

You need more space to grow whatever it is you're creating. A bird can try to lay an egg without a nest, but it's never going to be easy. Building a sturdy nest increases the young's chance of survival. You should try considering the space in which you're using to create your project or desire: are you writing a novel in a cluttered room, or cooking a meal when you can't find half of your measuring cups and saucepans? Are you meditating in a place where it's difficult to tune out the background noise?

Four of Wands talks about creating the space for you to thrive like the corn in Queen of Pentacles. The Queen is able to cultivate her garden in peace and certainty that abundance is hers. You are meant to take what it is you're doing and allow it to grow, so the Queen is being quite literal here. But she wants you to do it from a place of joy and enthusiasm instead of dread.

The Page is fired up from drinking coffee and is ready to go. But you must be in a place of ease with yourself to do this. Your message is to act upon your growth, but do it from a gentle place and at a gentle pace. Do not try to over exert yourself when you do have the space to practice or create. Do not try, for example, to squeeze 45 minutes of exercise into 5 minutes, thinking that it's all the time you're allowed, so why not go overboard, amiright? This is the fast lane to killing what you're growing and your joy for it, pile 1, and what you're growing is still in a very delicate stage. You have time to work out the details, so don't rush this. Heartease was the first card to pop out and the only card to jump, so it's really emphasizing the need to be careful with how you spend your time and energy.

The Communication card is the only one that really stands out to me. Perhaps what you're developing has to do with communications. Writing a book, preparing a speech, blogging, interview, etc. but it could also have to do with growing your connections with other people through how you communicate. You could be rekindling an old friendship from school or meeting someone for coffee? In any case, Compassion is the keyword here. Be gentle and ready to listen more to feedback, while creating a safe space for your friend or colleague to communicate clearly with you. This is a meetup you'll want to act upon, but do so from a place of kindness.

Also for some reason, maybe it's because I heard the song recently while out, but Tom Petty's "Free Fallin" is in my head while typing your reading and only your reading. Argh, such an earworm! If this person you're meeting up with hurt your heart in some way way back in the past… yeah it's cool to be on the defensive, assert your boundaries. Heartease, however, still asks that you treat this situation with diplomacy.

Pile 2: Radiance

Draw: Eight of Wands; Queen of Pentacles, King of Swords, Knight of Pentacles 19 - Healing Grief, Pisces Rising - Dream, Wisteria - Longevity "Plan for and take the dedicated path."

You have some similarities to pile 1, so if you were interested in that pile I recommend checking it out for messages. For starters, you have Queen of Pentacles in the exact same space on your spread, so that tells me there's a lot of collective push for undertaking rapid growth at this time. The Queen does it from an appearance of near effortlessness, but it's not without considerable effort on her part. She's able to handle a lot with grace and consistency.

It seems like in your cards, pile 2, you're pretty solid when it comes to growing towards your goals. You've become used to trucking along without must reprieve, as if it's from one thing to another as smoothly as the train cars pass the railroad crossing. You're being asked to remember about the power of momentum, and about the little things that add up. Think of how a bird takes off. When it starts flapping, it flaps hard. Once it's high in the sky, it spreads out and soars with ease. It requires a lot of steady pushing, one flap at a time, but eventually when it takes off it gains more speed than ever.

Again like with pile 1, you have all the time you need to make your dreams grow and flourish. Just don't be surprised if this takes a rather long time to accomplish. The Queen of Pentacles is less interested in quantity or time efficiency as she is in quality. It's not that she isn't punctual, far from it, but she and the Knight know that the best fruits are ones that ripen when they're ready to. You're being encouraged to plan for the long term, with wise judgement as the King of Swords suggests, and to open yourself up to envisioning more brilliant avenues to fly through. Imagine what would make your heart soar, and grow that instead of something that you merely feel "obligated" to do. Great things can take time, but it'll be completely worth the wait.

Also, my sun catcher reflected a rainbow perfectly on the osprey in this Eight of Wands card, it's nice. There is a radiance that comes from taking time to grow something to how you want it to be, like the bird with its fish catching talents (it can pluck them right out of the water and fly around boasting its catch). Your skills will shine here, just be sure to care for yourself in the meantime.

Pile 3: Perfect Penny

Draw: Nine of Wands; II High Priestess, XIV Temperance, Seven of Wands 25 - Truth, Taurus Moon - Relax, Belladonna - Silence "Listen more and quiet be."

So this was an interesting spread because at first I couldn't tell if the message was to hold on or let go. Maybe that's your current dilemma when it comes to growth. And it's a valid one, cause it's a lot like the pruning stage. You have to decide which leaves are valuable to your health, and which leaves are dead and must be clipped away.

The penny is like… saving a wishing penny for a rainy day. You're on the defense with Nine of Wands. Do I use this penny now to accomplish this, you ask, or I should I save it for later when I might use it for something else? Nine of Wands is a lot of energy being deliberately held back for a reason, like an arrow ready to fire. It could be that you're maybe putting a little too much perfectionism into the idea. What you're growing has not yet been grounded into the material world, it's still a passion idea or a fire in your heart but you're holding it back. But Nine of Wands is also a Sagittarius card, doubly so since Sagittarius is the 9th sign. The requirement here for growth is pushing forward with optimism that your wish will not go to waste. There's an energy of perfectionism here especially as it took me exactly nine photos before I settled for this one. I finally decided it didn't have to be perfect, it just had to feel ok enough!

My first reaction was to say "trust your gut and you'll learn to balance the give and take," then High Priestess and Temperance came out together! Somewhere inside you already know what it is you would like to do with "the penny" of an idea you're casting into the wishing well. You don't have to overthink this. It's a matter of coming from a heart-centered place of Truth. Belladonna is showing you how to tap into your intuition: "listen more, silent be." Listen closely to what your heart is wishing to do. Balance this out with how others may perceive your goals or growth. There may be people who say something like, "you're going to use what you got on 'that'?" or "are you really sure that's what you want to do?"

It takes practice to choose from a place of intuitive open mindedness, but it will reward you in this case. You're being reminded to stay relaxed and steady about this. Making the next move doesn't have to come from a place of high pressure or unneeded stress, even if it's time sensitive. But by learning to listen to your intuition more, the part that tells you how to proceed from a place of optimism within reason, you'll be able to more quickly expand and grow upon what it is you're creating. With penny's copper corresponding to Venus as well as Taurus moon, it's suggested here that you could receive monetary or financial growth through this, as well.

This reading has not been evaluated by the FDA to diagnose, prevent, treat, or cure any disease or infection. Please ask your physician before going online.

2023, @VitaminseeTarot ™

[blueiscoool]

35 Bottles From the 18th Century Filled with Cherries Found at George Washington’s Mount Vernon

The story of a six-year-old George Washington chopping down a cherry tree may be a myth, but archeologists excavating Mount Vernon, the home of the United States’ first president, made the very real discovery of 35 glass bottles filled with cherries and berries.

The bottles were found in five storage pits in the mansion’s cellar, with 29 of them intact and containing “perfectly preserved cherries and berries, likely gooseberries or currants,” according to a news release from George Washington’s Mount Vernon on Thursday.

Crews unearthed the 18th-century bottles during the ongoing $40 million revitalization project launched last year at Mount Vernon, Virginia.

The bottles were extracted from the pits and refrigerated, and are expected to undergo scientific analysis, the release states.

The slowly drying bottles, “composed of materials and foodstuffs that are likely 250 years old,” will be sent from Mount Vernon’s archaeology lab to an off-site location for conservation, according to the release.

The latest discovery comes after the recent find of two intact European-manufactured glass bottles, also from the 18th century, filled with liquid, cherries and pits in the same cellar, according to the organization.

“Now we know those bottles were just the beginning of this blockbuster discovery,” Mount Vernon President and CEO Doug Bradburn said in a statement.

Bradburn referred to the discoveries as “an unprecedented find,” adding that “nothing of this scale and significance has ever been excavated in North America.”

“The bottles and contents are a testament to the knowledge and skill of the enslaved people who managed the food preparations from tree to table,” said Jason Boroughs, Mount Vernon principal archaeologist.

The bottles may have been forgotten when Washington left Mount Vernon to take command of the Continental Army, according to Bradburn.

“These artifacts likely haven’t seen the light of day since before the American Revolution,” he said. “It’s so appropriate that these bottles have been unearthed shortly before the 250th anniversary of the United States.”

Bradburn added that the organization’s team is hopeful the cherry pits may be viable for future germination.

Mount Vernon partnered with the US Department of Agriculture’s Agricultural Research Service to analyze the bottles’ contents.

In the early stages of analysis, researchers identified 54 cherry pits and 23 stems, suggesting the bottles were likely full of cherries at one point, according to the release.

“The cherries likely are of a tart variety, which has a more acidic composition that may have aided in preservation,” the release states.

The cherries are likely candidates for DNA extraction, which could help researchers compare them against a database to identify their exact species, according to the release.

By Ashley R. Williams.

[tomorrowsgardennc]

how do i do this again? oh yeh...

garden update // august 20th 2024

the pollinator garden that was literally a "toss seeds and see what happens shrug emoji" has officially reached covering-the-view'of-the-house stage. eventually over the course of this fall and winter we will add a fence and plant perennials instead of whatever annual flower seeds i had lying around. asters are popping up in the shade of them all which i find funny since asters prefer cooler weather.

speaking of cooler weather... from the first bit of fall seeds i started i find the interesting germination contrast of saved seeds (not even my saved seeds, a friends) dwarf siberian kale versus bought online. the left was the saved seeds 📝👀 her's grew 10 minutes from my house, the one bought online was from a big boi store further up north. and these did hit 90°+ weather too, which technically was bad BUT not for the seeds that are all "yeh, we know how crazy this weather is nbd 😎"

my favorite basil ever, the spicy globe basil, is finally bolting for seed. i kept harvesting just one bush so i could get seeds sooner rather than later. okra is doing great, too. still giving off flowers and already got a first batch of dried okra for the seeds. i let the okra dry on the plant itself to ensure the most energy gets into those suckers as much as possible.

ok, so i'll start a separate thread for my quest for a frog pond, but i plan on putting it in the middle of the large square bed. everyone, even hubs, was like why big square you cant reach the middle and i was like it fits the space though!! but they were all right, hurts my back trying to reach the middle and tripping over the plants defeats the purpose. but it fits so nicely in the spot!! so frog pond will go in middle, around it is brassicas during the winter, then 2025 is purple tomatillo, 2026 is corn, 2027 okra, and then repeat indefinitely. so tall plants to shade it during the summer, and short plants so it gets plenty of sun in the winter. should be ok right?????? also i have yet to plant my prickly pear cactus because i legit dunno where to put them. i keep moving them around the garden and just not loving wherever they go. ughs.

peppers are almost done, so fall must be around the corner. but don't worry, tomorrow i'm going to dig up most of them and overwinter in the greenhouse. hawks claw totally, cayenne probably not because they had such stunted growth, lemon drop totally not because i have too many, but totes the giant marconi because that's my favorite sweet pepper so far. haven't tried many sweet pepper varieties though, and would love to grow an heirloom not a hybrid. my purple bells still haven't produced anything 😭 but i'll wait to pull those at the last minute... just in case...

lots to do this week. tomorrow is a false fall day, so going to spend it all outside and enjoy it 💚

[mossinformed]

The protonema is an algae-like stage that follows right after the spore germinates. The worm phase if you will. Proto= first, nema=thread