Flora (by Kristina Manchenko)
Not today Justin
will byers stan first human second

Kiana Khansmith
No title available

if i look back, i am lost

❣ Chile in a Photography ❣

⁂
styofa doing anything

roma★
NASA
DEAR READER

izzy's playlists!
Today's Document
Show & Tell

Andulka
Stranger Things

JVL
2025 on Tumblr: Trends That Defined the Year
Monterey Bay Aquarium
Keni

seen from Spain
seen from United Kingdom
seen from Botswana

seen from Romania

seen from United States

seen from United States

seen from Greece

seen from Canada
seen from United States

seen from France

seen from United States
seen from South Africa

seen from United States
seen from Greece

seen from Netherlands
seen from United States
seen from United States

seen from United States

seen from United States

seen from Ireland
@evcrbloom-blog
Flora (by Kristina Manchenko)
by 陌路未至
Beep beep I’m nuking Sam from my canon and transplanting Miria in her place 8)
middle earth aesthetics → mirkwood
there was a greenish light about them, and in places they could see some distance to either side of the path. yet the light only showed them endless lines of straight grey trunks like the pillars of some huge twilight hall. there was a breath of air and a noise of wind, but it had a sad sound. a few leaves came rustling down to remind them that outside autumn was coming on. their feet ruffled among the dead leaves of countless other autumns that had drifted over the banks of the path from the deep red carpets of the forest.
@feanors-daughter kinkshamed me!!
Meetings among the council were meant to be an honour; few better were there to be trained in politics than beneath Gil-Galad himself. And yet, with the close of each, Thranduil found the call of anyplace else growing in strength til he could scarcely remain for the ending niceties. Smiles could last only so long, and so with their fade, so too did the Sindar prince. Out, and out further into the gardens to find solace in solitude and flora alike -- or so his plans had been.
No different than a doe caught beneath the hunter’s stare ( though he dared hope for some shred more dignity to be found in expression ), Thranduil froze in place, watching the brush strokes of an elleth yet unknown. Did she come here often? Had she been here before, and he, in his haste and discomfort, had failed to notice?? Horror upon horror danced behind outward stoicism -- yet soon were they bid their leave, before true paralysis had time enough to set in.
“Sorry, I.... I was not aware that I would be of any disturbance...”
dont know where i was going with this but u can never have enough elf dads
@spacymuses kinkshamed me!!!
Perhaps each drop upon dark pavement was testament to the sins committed in life -- but whether those sins were to be attributed to the swordswoman or her victim remained yet unseen. Yet, even as life drained away -- and oh, it drained as quickly as it ever had -- eyes of sombre blue remained still, fixed upon she who had stolen a man’s life and erred only enough to leave behind a sole witness. Any traces of reason to have lingered fled long ago now, replaced purely by quandaries of what now stood to be due course.
Leaving, in all likelihood, should have been option number one. But then, such was the common sense of the times, was it not? Sense of his own -- that of a king from days no longer recalled -- twisted and deviated far; perhaps not the best of options, yet he stood to be the only soul aware of cloaked crimes. What reason held solid enough that he himself shouldn’t be the one to handle it?
“Your cut was sure,” Thranduil observed, yet remained steadfast in place some distance away. And for a brief moment, his gaze faltered, falling to the body of the fallen to take in the evidence that remained. “Was your reason?”
I don’t want people to matter to me too much. Sometimes it hurts too much to think about them. Ones you love who don’t love you, ones who hate you, ones who you think about but never get to be with. I like people but when I get too close, it fucks me up.
Henry Rollins (via quotemadness)
It's a small gift in the eyes of some, yet Thranduil's expression belies the weight that the blooming life in his palm holds in his own heart. But perhaps, he thinks, one from the Shire might give his gift the proper love and attention that he himself has bestowed up to this point, and so it is without hesitation that Bilbo is offered the vibrant and potted flowers, alongside a small but no less genuine ghost of a smile. "May it serve as a pleasant reminder of the Woodland Realm, Master Baggins"
‘ OH ! WHY , I —- ‘
he hadn’t expected anything of the sort , and his jaw DROPS a little as he beholds the blooms which the elvenking has graced him . they are an absolutely beauteous gift , especially to the westerly child who has not had the pleasures of seeing such since he made home in erebor with thorin . his heart TWINGES , an obvious nostalgia overtaking his own expression as he observes them at every angle after the containers are handed to him .
yes ; no doubt that bilbo baggins would care for and adore these particular plants among the meager garden which he has begun to grow , if ever they did age enough to plant . FOR NOW , however , he would keep them near his study , where the sun would shine down upon them and cast soil in the necessary light .
‘ ‘tis a wonderful gift , your majesty . i’ve never seen the like ! rest ASSURED that I will care for them to the utmost of my ability . ‘ as only bilbo can , a sunlit smile is graced upon thranduil . ‘ these must be native to the greenwood , yes ? ‘
ABOUT THRANDUIL
RULES: Bold the statements that apply to you, italicize your aspirations.
AIR. I have small hands • I love the night sky • I watch small animals and birds when I pass them by • I drink herbal tea • I wake to see dawn • The smell of dust is comforting • I’m valued for being wise • I prefer books to music • I meditate • I find joy in learning new truths from the world around me
FIRE. I don’t have straight hair • I like to wear ripped jeans and overalls • I play an organized sport • I am not afraid of adventure • I love to talk to strangers • I always try new foods • I enjoy road trips • Summer is my favorite season • I love dogs • My radio is always playing
WATER. I wear bracelets on my wrists • I love the bustle of the city • I have more than one set of piercings • I read poetry • I love the sound of a thunderstorm • I want to travel the world • I go to sleep past midnight most days • I love dimly lit diners and fluorescent signs • I rewatch kids’ shows out of nostalgia • I see emotions in colors not words
EARTH. I wear glasses • I enjoy doing the laundry • I am a vegetarian or vegan • I have an excellent sense of time • My humor is very cheerful • I am a valued advisor to my friends • I believe in true love • I love the chill of mountain air • I’m always listening to music • I am highly trusted by the people in my life
AETHER. I go without makeup in my daily life • I make my own artwork • I keep on track of my tasks and time • I always know true north • I see beauty in everything • I can always smell flowers • I smile at everyone I pass by • I always fear history repeating itself • I have recovered from a mental disorder • I can love unconditionally
tagged by. @ringwinning ( thanks fam <3 ) tagging. @insouldious @arcanedivinity @durnaar @goldenglorfindel
GREEK LOVES .
COME & FIND OUT . repost , do not reblog ! put down whatever info applies the most .
YOUR GREEK LOVE IS: Good Nomos
All nomos types are organized around duty and the impetus that humans should care for one another in a conscientious way. Nomos types are forward-thinking and responsible lovers who see our commitment to each other not just as “duties” or “obligations,” but as opportunities to deepen our own moral stature and cultivate a sense of belonging as well. Consequently, they care especially deeply about the life and values of communities, their friends and social circles, and they often see opportunities for how everyone can be made to work together within them. Nomos types are dependable and trustworthy lovers who believe that (in love as well as in life) just rewards come to those who care not just about themselves, but for their community as a whole.
When other people are going through times of trouble, the good nomos lover takes no joy in their misfortune, but understands the gravity of their plight and provides a deeply rooted sense of reassurance. Good nomoslovers listen and involve themselves in the affairs of others responsibly and humbly. They espouse a level-headed practical wisdom in a non-judgmental manner - one that gives the other person a surer and more sensible perspective on their problems. In this way, good nomos lovers are the quiet enablers of our world; people who, through their own counsel and wisdom, gently empower others to learn and grow as they rise to face the challenges before them. Good nomoslovers are not exacting, but realize that they will very likely never receive the same amount of selfless attention from others as they themselves give. They live by the creed that though the needs of friends and loved ones are insatiable, those of us who have the capacity must nevertheless do our best to tend to them and to serve as dutiful guardians, diplomats, and dependable down-to-earth presences to others.
FAMOUS GREEKS WHO HAVE NOMOS: Pericles, Xenophon. Your ideal partner is someone who has Agape.
TAGGED BY: Stolen
TAGGING: Whomever would like to
sometimes i want to be kind. sometimes i want to be gentle. but then i look at the blood on my hands, the weapons at my hip. and i laugh.
i laugh because the world made me this way, and i refuse to become its doormat.
Louis C.K.
@uruking
No more than the stag can remove itself from its woodland home can Thranduil remain away from his domain. In hushed whispers, it was undeniably strong bargaining chips the forest used in its pleas for his return from a certainly unnatural absence. The king has duties that cannot be abandoned, he often replied -- and yet, on occasions rarer than the hunter’s moon, the very same impassioned debates drew him further into his domain and further away from his halls.
Pleased song echoed in pointed ears with each regal step Sirdal carried him, heralding an otherwise wild and meandering journey along now infrequently used paths. With depth of forest, however, the melody changed to cagey murmurs: something grew near. Someone dark. Unperturbed eyes swept canopy and floor alike in search unsatisfied until pallid and marred hide caught attentions. Unfamiliar this trespasser was not, but neither was typical aggression wafting from his person either; a boon that allowed for the sword tethered at Thranduil’s hip to remain sheathed.
“Hail, Azog. I would not have expected your presence as far north as this.” Curiosity laced still tones where perhaps suspicion should have lurked. True, they were commanders of traditionally opposing sides, but what harm could come of civility? “What brings you into the Woodland Realm?”
“ Do you know where the wicked go after death? ” ( from a tinie leggy )
Legends are slippery little things. @mosttireless
Puffs of dark grey dotted an otherwise beautiful blue sky; whether or not they chose to dump their gift down upon the thirsting world was, however, irrelevant to Thranduil’s own enjoyment of the day, and would therefore serve as no precursor of sending the father and son pair away from the task of gardening and indoors for a drier climate inasmuch as young Legolas remained jolly in his pursuits of outdoor play in and around the lush areas Thranduil attended to. Still, loving and watchful eyes remained on his elfling lest the boy be drawn too far away to be attended to while busy hands cared for chlorophyllic friends in need of pruning and weeding. Having settled beside his father for a time, every now and again a particularly lovely twig or discarded bloom would be woven into blond locks until the arrangement resembled a crown of careful craftsmanship. Yet it seemed to Thranduil that, upon close inspection of his work, one final touch was missing, deemed shortly thereafter to be a centerpiece lacking.
Each piece of trimmings was given thoughtful consideration, and from them a delicate blue flower selected and plucked from the pile – but his motions ceased at soft query, brow furrowing and gaze shifting to the elfling at his hip.
“You ask after a heavy subject, little leaf.” His own answer mirrored the softness of the petals between his fingers, yet held nothing more than a mild concern. “Why does such a thing trouble you….?”
His pause gave rise to silence of a minute or two before what words would be best offered to a young mind like Legolas’. “From what I understand, Mandos looks after them in his halls until they have apologized for their misdeeds. Then they are allowed to return to their loved ones.”
self-indulgent doodling please excuse me I had some Thranduil feels