#apricot beauty

[tanyaluca]

April Apricot…

Tanya Luca

[glamboyl]

Apricot enjoying an Autumn woods by Bee Perry.

[downfalldestiny]

Apricot cake 🍑 !.

[artthatgivesmefeelings]

Ferdinand Küss (Austrian, 1800-1886) Still Life with Roses and Apricots Liechtenstein Collections

[minttulips44]

𝒶𝓅𝓇𝒾𝒸𝑜𝓉 𝓉𝓌𝒾𝓇𝓁

affirmations

✿ my skin has that sun-kissed glow.

✿ my skin is healthy and radiant.

✿ my lips are plump, and my cheeks hold a soft blush.

✿ I am so beautiful it’s insane!

✿ I am beautiful and warm like summer days.

✿ I am the most divine beauty to ever exist.

✿ I am known for smelling delicious.

✿ my natural scent is fresh and sweet!

✿ I attract positivity by the butttt LOADS.

✿ what I eat nourishes my body and soul.

✿ my body is at the peak of good health.

✿ my healthy lifestyle supports my mind, body, and soul!

✿ I am always well-hydrated, my mind and body thank me.

[smouuch]

DAY 2 : APRIKUA ( Apricot x Hakua)☝️

Day 3 : LUNARS (Luna x Mars)💋

Basic context,A friend and I made a list of crackships and rarepairs to draw in April, and here are some drawings I did yesterday and today!!

I hope you enjoy !

<3

[assortedboxes]

Forget-Me-Not

[coldwateronly]

<3

[eunnuiphyte]

Bought as Graptopetalum Apricot Beauty (though could it be Graptopetalum paraguayense ssp bernalense variegated?)

ID: Graptopetalum Apricot Beauty

[manwalksintobar]

Things I Didn't Know I Loved // Nazim Hikmet

it’s 1962 March 28th I’m sitting by the window on the Prague-Berlin train night is falling I never knew I liked night descending like a tired bird on a smoky wet plain I don’t like comparing nightfall to a tired bird

I didn’t know I loved the earth can someone who hasn’t worked the earth love it I’ve never worked the earth it must be my only Platonic love

and here I’ve loved rivers all this time whether motionless like this they curl skirting the hills European hills crowned with chateaus or whether stretched out flat as far as the eye can see I know you can’t wash in the same river even once I know the river will bring new lights you'll never see I know we live slightly longer than a horse but not nearly as long as a crow I know this has troubled people before                          and will trouble those after me I know all this has been said a thousand times before                          and will be said after me

I didn’t know I loved the sky cloudy or clear the blue vault Andrei studied on his back at Borodino in prison I translated both volumes of War and Peace into Turkish I hear voices not from the blue vault but from the yard the guards are beating someone again I didn’t know I loved trees bare beeches near Moscow in Peredelkino they come upon me in winter noble and modest beeches are Russian the way poplars are Turkish “the poplars of Izmir losing their leaves. . . they call me The Knife. . .                          lover like a young tree. . . I blow stately mansions sky-high” in the Ilgaz woods in 1920 I tied an embroidered linen handkerchief                                         to a pine bough for luck

I never knew I loved roads even the asphalt kind Vera's behind the wheel we're driving from Moscow to the Crimea                                                           Koktebele                                formerly “Goktepé ili” in Turkish the two of us inside a closed box the world flows past on both sides distant and mute I was never so close to anyone in my life bandits stopped me on the red road between Bolu and Geredé                                         when I was eighteen apart from my life I didn’t have anything in the wagon they could take and at eighteen our lives are what we value least I’ve written this somewhere before wading through a dark muddy street I'm going to the shadow play Ramazan night a paper lantern leading the way maybe nothing like this ever happened maybe I read it somewhere an eight-year-old boy                                        going to the shadow play Ramazan night in Istanbul holding his grandfather’s hand    his grandfather has on a fez and is wearing the fur coat       with a sable collar over his robe    and there’s a lantern in the servant’s hand    and I can’t contain myself for joy flowers come to mind for some reason poppies cactuses jonquils in the jonquil garden in Kadikoy Istanbul I kissed Marika fresh almonds on her breath I was seventeen my heart on a swing touched the sky I didn’t know I loved flowers friends sent me three red carnations in prison

I just remembered the stars I love them too whether I’m floored watching them from below or whether I'm flying at their side

I have some questions for the cosmonauts were the stars much bigger did they look like huge jewels on black velvet                              or apricots on orange did you feel proud to get closer to the stars I saw color photos of the cosmos in Ogonek magazine now don’t    be upset comrades but nonfigurative shall we say or abstract    well some of them looked just like such paintings which is to    say they were terribly figurative and concrete my heart was in my mouth looking at them they are our endless desire to grasp things seeing them I could even think of death and not feel at all sad I never knew I loved the cosmos

snow flashes in front of my eyes both heavy wet steady snow and the dry whirling kind I didn’t know I liked snow

I never knew I loved the sun even when setting cherry-red as now in Istanbul too it sometimes sets in postcard colors but you aren’t about to paint it that way I didn’t know I loved the sea                              except the Sea of Azov or how much

I didn’t know I loved clouds whether I’m under or up above them whether they look like giants or shaggy white beasts

moonlight the falsest the most languid the most petit-bourgeois strikes me I like it

I didn’t know I liked rain whether it falls like a fine net or splatters against the glass my    heart leaves me tangled up in a net or trapped inside a drop    and takes off for uncharted countries I didn’t know I loved    rain but why did I suddenly discover all these passions sitting    by the window on the Prague-Berlin train is it because I lit my sixth cigarette one alone could kill me is it because I’m half dead from thinking about someone back in Moscow her hair straw-blond eyelashes blue

the train plunges on through the pitch-black night I never knew I liked the night pitch-black sparks fly from the engine I didn’t know I loved sparks I didn’t know I loved so many things and I had to wait until sixty    to find it out sitting by the window on the Prague-Berlin train    watching the world disappear as if on a journey of no return

                                     ��               19 April 1962                                                      Moscow

[hitokas-gf]

hsc posters coming out of the woodworks i see u fellow soldiers

[larimar]

jessiejanedaye

[93cnicole]

"Making Progress"

[itafushin]

im thinking so hard. i crave more lovesick wukong where hes wrapped around macs finger so much he would do anything for him with no hesitation, where any lovey or affectionate gesture from mac makes wukong so happy his tail wags like crazy, where wukong is just so madly in love with mac. like let them be in love !!

[courierrsix]

I'm thriiiiiiiviiiiiiing

[peskyfirefly]

I need you to know that ilysm that I memorialized one of your evil boops to cherish it forever and all of eternity, you little evil boopin' apricot <3

heheehehehe >:)

signed yours forever, evil mishmish