Flowers blooming time lapse
@beaflower77 - thought youâd like this
This is absolutely gorgeous! Thank you @ averil-of-fairlea for thinking of me!! Yes, I find this most beautiful.
let's talk about Bridgerton tea, my ask is open

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@beaflower77
  Flowers blooming time lapse
@beaflower77 - thought youâd like this
This is absolutely gorgeous! Thank you @ averil-of-fairlea for thinking of me!! Yes, I find this most beautiful.

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An Atmosphere Of Sorrow
âIâll be back soon. I promise,â he insisted, âI have to investigate the fit and finish issue they stuck me with at the Assembly Plant. These damn build issues are a nuisance.â And he walked out, forgetting behind the black tattered briefcase he always carried. He kissed her lightly. She frowned. She had no choice but to let him go to work, and her back to that house. She sulked.Â
Her mood being dark and uneasy, Dove crossed her arms, huddled herself further into her thick blue sweater and began dubiously walking back toward the front door. The harvest air was getting increasingly crisper each day, and her faculties more scattered. As he backed the old â72 Pinto down the gravel drive, the muffler backfired. Black smoke puffed behind. She hoped it wouldnât burst into flames as old cars did, it seemed to be an impressively sturdy old car. For its age.Â
âI wish you wouldnât keep pouring money into that old crapper of a car,â she said against the chilly air. âOne day Franklin,â she threatened the wind, âYouâre going to find all those parts fallen off that rust bucket and lay scattered on the drive come morning. And no car for us to drive. Or blown up and burnt to a crisp.â Slowly Dove procrastinated walking back, stopping to smell the remaining magnolia on her way. Outside it was crisp, but still pleasant. Outside.Â
Wanderings Through Time
He sat. He sat in a crouching position smelling, sniffing the air. Something was changing. He could smell the change. Through the air, traveling down on the wind, the way it twisted, wafted round the brush. This new smell completely voided the prettier, softer smells which normally would have lifted off small flowers; a far sweeter smell which should have dotted the landscape than this one. Yes, he could smell the new change. Something in the air gave him pause, a consideration of some sort. Something. Lifting his nose higher, higher still, the snow dotted animal sniffed and smelled the hot breeze. The breeze, which shifted crosswise, and landed with a desolate thunk, hitting his nostrils with a smell he did not care for. He knew this smell; this was a smell he was all too familiar with.Â
 He froze.
Lindir Montage Of Happiness!
Petals
They were pretty. Simply lovely to look at. Delicate, fragile even. Those silky soft baby rose petals were strewn about the flooring like crumbs leftover from a disastrous dinner party.
What is this?,â Erestor grumbled, shooting Elrond a look of disgruntled suspicion.â They were heading too close toward one particular hallway.
Elrond himself eyed the curious floral landscape, "Looks very much as if they are .. petals Erestor.â It was not with mirth Elrond replied for he too had his suspicions, and he noticed his counselor was minutely upset over the apparent mess. Moreso upset than he, Elrond merely dealt with issues differently. Â

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Creamy Coffee In The Wood
âNo!,â Lamberta hollered, half crazed out of her mind. âNo!â
âYes!,â He bellowed back. âYes you are!â And he pointedly directed his finger at her face.Â
âNo!,â she begged, implored, âI cannot, I cannot! Please, I am happy here, truly I am! Do not ask this of me! It will ruin me!âÂ
âEnough!,â he demanded more forcefully than necessary, âEnough! In a week you are to be married and gone. It is high time too, you are twenty six! You are more than old enough, you are too old to remain here, me supporting you longer. Now no longer! I cannot continue to house and feed you, with only a pittance to recover. You are very lucky I have kept you this long. If your mother had lived longer, I would have you here more. No. My mindâs made. You have one week to prepare. I have made a fine choice for you, finer than any other maid hereabouts. You should be grateful, any other maid would be. Now go. Out of my sight tonight,â and Bassett pointed rudely, deliberately, toward her bedroom door and tiny, cramped room her only solitude. His decision was finite.Â
google your name + your favorite color + âaestheticâ and the first four (noncollage) photos make up your moodboardÂ
tagged by @1zashreena1
no pressure tags: @javierpenaspinkshirt @ladydorian @youhavereachedtheendofpie @pedropascalito @mostly-megan @heatherbel @fahre
google your name + your favorite color + âaestheticâ and the first four (noncollage) photos make up your moodboardÂ
(I also left out any images of people because anything containing Megan and Aesthetic includes 40 pics of Megan Fox)
Tagged by: @ithinkwehitametaphor
No pressure tags: @agentpike @zeldasayer @thick-dick-daddy-mando @youmeanmybrain @mylifeliterally
(Edited: narrowed my search to a more specific color of purple and this is much more my aesthetic than if you saw the first one lol)
Tagging: @catfishingmorales @hdlynn @damerondjarin @tintinwrites @lesqui (sorry if youâve done it. I have no idea)
ahhh how are these all??? so??? perfect??? wow i love it all.
tagging: @acomplicatedprofession @pedropascalito @beskars @maxlordd @bobafvtt @damndamer0n @just-add-butter @justreadingfics @jalapenobarnes @glowingpena @scruffandyarn
Thank you for tagging me @ithinkwehitametaphor and @lesqui!
Tagging @chicken-nugget-puta @oberynispunk @mandoispunk @pajamasecrets @manuphantom
Thank you @pedropascalito!
Tagging @abuttoncalledsmalls @roses-belair-blog @little-ms-fandom @coffeeandtodd @rzrcrst !!!
Thank you for the tag @chicken-nugget-putaâ!
No pressure tags: @yespolkadotkittyâ @agirllovespastaâ @wickedfrsgrlâ @gamingaquariusâ
Thankyou for the tag, @abuttoncalledsmalls and I think @songsformonkeys tagged me too.
No pressure tags: @just-the-hiddles @shes-aghostship @rzrcrst @spacegayofficial @littlefreya @villainousshakespeare @summersong69
Thanks @yespolkadotkittyâ!Â
Open tag for anyone who wants to try!
Oooooo. Pretty
@buckysbrat @buckybarney @angryschnauzer @caffiend-queen â¤
@thecutestlittlebunbunfairy Yours is cute!!
Tagging @freshwoods @curtisbbq @imgaymeow @spacemansam @tillsunbeamsfindyou @hurricaneandybarber @kawairinrin @everythingstucky @lemonadeswift @daytonfxckingwhite
@buckysbrat I love yours!
@sherrybaby14 @jtargaryen18
@kawairinrin ooooo! That crystal eye is crazy! Love it!
Tagging @thran-duils @threeminutesoflife @imanuglywombat @caffiend-queen @iwantutobehapppier @sagechanoafterdark @darkficsyouneveraskedfor and anyone else who wants to play!
Thank you, dear @sherrybaby14â and @thecutestlittlebunbunfairyâ! That canal filled with blossoms⌠damn. Perfection.
Iâd love to see what youâd come up with, @nildespirandumâ @imanuglywombatâ @alexakeylovelokiâ @myoxisbrokenâ @jtargaryen18â @vodka-and-some-sassâ @shininglokiâ @emeraldrosequartzâ @just-the-hiddlesâ @myraiswackâ @sapphirescrollsâ @wrathkittyâ @texmexdarlingâ @lokilickedmeâ @pagesoflaurenâ @threeminutesoflifeâ @whatjusthappenedbro @wolfpawnâ @nonsensicalobsessionsâ @villainousshakespeareâ @is-it-madnessâ
@the-soulofdevilâ And anyone else who wants to jump in? Are we new friends? Share so I can get to know you better!
Thanks, caff!
Tagging @purple-daisies-love because she has an eye for beautiful things, @lokilickedme because i want her to see the angel wings in mine, it reminds me of so many of her stories, @tilltheendwilliwrite because she has both an eye for asthetics and stories with winged peoples. And curious to see what @freudensteins-monster @the-haven-of-fiction @sherala007 @scully2u @phoenix-maat âs will look like.
Thank you for tagging me. Iâve never done an aesthetic before. Iâm tagging @every-journey-sassypants-lovesâ @zeesmuseâ @oakenshieldgisborneandbuchananâ @ourloveisforthelovelyâ @beaflower77â and anyone else thatâd like to participate. :)
Thanks for the tag. I happen to enjoy blue and silver mixes. Tagging @every-journey-sassypants-loves @oakenshieldgisborneandbuchanan @averil-of-fairlea
Erestorâs Birthmark
âOh, come now,â Avornis exclaimed. Her cheerful disbelief rising like half a sun without its senses.Â
âIt is true,â Beatrice pushed. âLord Erestor has a little heart shaped birthmark on his right hip, right below where his leggings lay.â And she handed off a clean and folded linen for Avorndis to properly place in the linen closet.Â
Little Bottles Of Oil
âShe is out of touch lately, I wonder why?â Â
Looking toward Gwingnis, the other ellyth replied, âHmmm, does not look as anything is unusual. Maybe she is getting more sleep at nightâÂ
The suggestion was intuitive enough, but, âOh Come. There is something more to it than that. Really.â, she whispered back. âLook. Do you see it? There! See? She has a little bottle of oil! Where did she retain that from?â Â
Yes, indeed she did! Gwingnis was given this bottle from someone very special, for these little bottles of bathing oil were highly prized, deemed so expensive and rare, it was highly unusual for many to have them, only one in a rather good position possible might acquire this find. And to gift it to another was indeed most fortunate, adoring and special.
I may have witnessed hundreds of forms of beauty, and spoken scores of languages, both old and living, but my tongue still fails to translate what my heart has found in you. I dread remembering how bleak my life had been before you entered it and dread thinking what it will be without you. Donât ever leave me, love, I will not bear it. With utmost adoration, Glorfindel.
My dearest Glorfindel, I had no foreknowledge of your sweet feelings, my friend. But now, with ever dawning realization, I must bravely and openly admit my deepest heart yearns for you alone. For without you, sweetest Glorfindel, my life would be as if the world shifting beneath my feet, only to lose all footing and fall, with naught else to grasp hold of. I accept your love and surrender fully to your advances, once I lay eyes upon you again. With love, Saerwen.

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This Nightâs Moon
Sitting off by himself, he stared at the vast landscape. The ponies and larger horses the elves owned, were galloping round, getting much needed exercise. He smiled slightly at them, slightly. Sitting still, listening to the evening calls of birds nestling down in the distance, he couldnât but think, Why, why?, while small animals gathered up the last few hungry pickings, scattering off to their own shelters. I should be moving along myself, again coming around from his wayward, scattered thoughts. But still he sat, and lingered and thought not knowing what to do, which way he should turn. Â
The So Big
It was just so, so big. Enormous. Intimidating. Terrifying even. How did she even think she could handle it? The Elves had promised it would not be difficult, or upsetting even. They promised she might even enjoy herself.Â
Glorfindelâs Claim
âGlorfindel,â Elrondâs rich voice glided from his mouth in reparation. âYou cannot keep that animal here.â He waited but half a breath, âIt is a wolf.â Elrond looked upon Glorfindel as if he were a tinge lost, or even unhinged. Glorfindel remained composed, yet detached.
@lumenli aaaaaaaaaaa!!!!!!!!!
I canât help but watch this over, and over, and over again. Too serious please.
A Pedestal? No, I Think Not
And when he saw her, he wondered. No, he knew. In his heart, witnessing tiny sparkles of amber reflecting off the waters onto her person. He knew.
He knew, but could not fathom how he had never seen her. How could he have avoided this moment for so lengthy a time?Â
His heart melted, and he beheld and loved her.
She is a marvel, he believed, a beauty to behold, thinking these thoughts, holding them within his heart. With all her flaws and shortcomings, she is a prize. My prize. And started to elevate her onto a weighty pedestal.
No. Not a pedestal. I will not put her on a pedestal, he said to himself. For those are made. Constructed from soft materials. Materials breakable, collapsible, allowing her to fall and crumble within my mindâs eyes and sight.
No, she is not a thing so rare and priceless as to allow her to tarnish, decay and soil before me. Rather, she is most delicate, fragile, breakable and soft, yet strong, sewn and stitched with steel thread. She steels herself against rushing, calamitous storms, weathering them out. Like an island hidden for a time, then newly to be discovered again by amateur explorers.
She is as delicate as thinly constructed parchment, disintegrating at the slightest provocation, a dandelion fluff that blows through the air, falling faintly to the ground, to be trodden over, soiled by the moments of time. While holding her jadedness eerily close, covering her nakedness like a nightdress, she still sees the beauty in all, concretely accepting the foibles in others.
No. Never on a pedestal, he believed. For she is softer than arrow feathers. While flying, finding itsâ mark, but not just any mark. Needing to be loved, desperate for acceptance, hungry for touch, equating touch for pureness, awakening at the slightest glance and voice.
A pedestal would break, destroy, confuse and topple her. No not a pedestal, but, rather, I hold her in my heart. For here within my heart, I can hold her, see her for what she truly is, what she can and will become.
Here in my heart, I can keep her safe from the brutalities of the world. For as strong as she is on the outside to the world, she is first and foremost, delicate, bruised and breakable.
For she is human. And still, I love her above all.
His heart melted. And he loved her still.

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Motherâs Day Dinner
So, if you do nothing today, just bake some chicken parmesan. Again using Chef Johnâs recipe, and changing it slightly for sake of I canât go out, so Iâm using what I have?
Weâre going to start with our Command Central. We have chopped or diced Provolone Cheese, chopped fresh basil, just enough Roaâs tomato and basil sauce and salt and pepper in the llamas.
We begin with preparing our chicken breast into slices for lovelier and easier baking. Weâre going to salt and pepper the meat first, then âdredgeâ flour onto the chicken, turn it over and dredge the over side. Patting it down firmly. Use tongs so you donât have to touch uncooked chicken.Â
My love! The days are dark without you, and I count seconds till the moment I rest my eyes on you once more. You give the meaning to my life, youâre everything â the sun that I see, the air that I breathe, the music that I hear. Like a blindman stumbling through the dark, Iâm lost without you. Come back and make my life complete again. Till I see you, Lindir
My best beloved,
Your missive arrived just before evening meal bells tolled. The smile on my face cannot compare to the joy which radiates from within my heart while reading your letter. Such a poet to compare me to the sunâs brilliance and the airâs magnitude, surely you jest. But when once we meet again, I should love to hear such poesy and whimsy from your own person. As well as your endless kisses. Your devout and passionate Beatrice