#Ripe Plum

[gradienty]

Ripe Plum Persian Green (#460051 to #04b3a4)

[inkstainedpalettes]

Inktuneber Day 8

Spider Dance - from Undertale, by Toby Fox

Happy October 8th to all spiders everywhere. May you dance to this funny little tune from hit indie video game Undertale.

[cheruib]

i love plums we don’t give plums enough love on this website

[tilbageidanmark]

A bowl of sun dried tomatoes

[twentyfivemiceinatrenchcoat]

peaches and plums and apricots in a big basket

[mychlapci]

My king, any recipe or food recommendations for cooking at home for a humble peasant?

uhhhh i don't know... you can make quesadillas. you can literally just have tortilla with cheese and nothing else there doesnt need to be any meat. or you put in ham. or salami and tomato in a tortilla for a pizza experience. uuuh hot dogs. egg salad. buy a croissant at the store and eat it. or put stuff in it like cheese and lettuce and eat it. whisk eggs in a bowl, add salt, dip bread and then fry in a pan in a ton of oil, eat with ketchup. uuuh one triangle of blue cheese + two tubes of regular melted cheese + cup of whipping cream + basil, heat until melted, add your pasta of choice, voilá. that's two or three servings of cheesy pasta. grilled cheese. always have cheese. grill a camembert cheese. serve with fries or salad. buy a shitty prepackaged salad mix from the store and add feta cheese + sundried tomatoes.

[reginamillls]

do I make a plum cobbler or a plum tarte tatin?

[sootonthecarpet]

bf borrowed my cozy blanket for a nap but before he agreed to use it he made me promise to take it back after he fell asleep. bro your blanky??????? no way

[fried-berries]

you sit down at the plastic table because your partner likes being outside at the bar even though it’s 90 degrees and 60% humidity at 10pm and you thought this corduroy dress was soooo cute but now youre all sweaty and so one of your balls has escaped your panties but youre wearing fishnets so your loose nut is now dying like a sea turtle in a six pack ring and youre the desperate diver trying to save it but blind and one handed and stone faced cause you can’t draw attention to the fact that youre doing a high stakes wildlife rescue on your stupid scrotum in public because it might turn into a six month news cycle and desantis might fly out to personally bulldoze the bar. and its a thursday

[gradienty]

Ripe Plum Diesel (#490056 to #14000d)

[inkstainedpalettes]

Inktuneber Day 23

Discord - Eurobeat Brony, The Living Tombstone

OOPS forgot to queue this one up. Anyways I just. Thought this one would be funny to put here. It slaps so.

[bbael]

Just made the worst smoothie, I should be put down for this alone

[boyc4t]

eating plums and apricots but missing strawberry and cherry seasons a lil bit

[harvestheart]

these look rich, ripe and juicy!

[cryobabiess]

girldad!geta pleeease!

Filia Divina

Pairing: Emperor Geta x Wife!reader

Tags: childbirth, pregnancy, miscarriage mentioned, implied infanticide, soft!geta (if you squint), historically accurate practices, NOT BETA READ SO IF YOU SEE SOMETHING WONKY NO YOU DIDN’T, good ole fashioned misogyny

AN: Tollere Liberos is in reference to an ancient Roman tradition where a father decides whether or not to accept a newborn as their child. Rejected children were abandoned via ‘expositus’ (aka dead ass just leaving a baby out in the wilderness). So basically girldad!geta but historically accurate lol. Enjoy!

It had only been an hour since you birthed her—a sweet little creature with curls the color of honey and supple skin like the flesh of a ripe plum. With a mighty wail fit to be heard across an empire, she came into the world. Your goddess, Juno, generously granted her the health and strength you prayed for. You rejoiced, though your joy was not shared.

The midwives cleaned your daughter in grave silence, save for the whispers of the politic-men gathered to witness the birth of Rome’s divine son. They huddled together in the far corner of the chamber as your girl laid against her mother’s chest for the first time.

“It cannot be true—look again!” Geta frantically commands the weary doctor. He paces across the marble floor in a state of distress. A litany of expressions troubles his face; disbelief, panic, betrayal.

“My lord, it is not what was desired, but I assure you—the child is female. You have my greatest sorrows.” The doctor mournfully bows his head, knowing better than to look the short tempered prince in the eye.

Geta was persistent, diligently sewing his seed in your womb since your holy union. You passed two of his children as blood, and he held you as you suffered through the pain. He watched your body grow when his efforts succeeded, massaged your taut skin with olive oil, and fed you bread soaked in sweet wine when you felt ill. He even kneeled at Jupiter’s alter to call for the safe delivery of his first son and the health of his wife—All these precautions only to be cruelly slighted.

“The gods have punished me, yet I’ve done nothing but bend to their will.” Geta holds his head in disbelief, his devastation made evident by a deep scowl.

Senator Gracchus tentatively approaches your distraught husband, resting a sympathetic hand on his shoulder.

“My lord, we must atone for our offenses, whatever they may be. It is a grave misfortune indeed, but your bride—“

Rage ignites across Geta’s face as he pulls away from his constituent’s touch.

“Speak tactfully of your empress if you wish to keep your tongue, Senator.” He seethes through a tight jaw. Gracchus relents, his tone softening considerably. He continues slowly and with caution.

“Two winters have passed since your union, and she has yet to bring forth an heir of Rome. Her body has proved inhospitable. The gods have sent a message, and it would be foolish to turn a cheek—you must heed this omen! ”

Geta takes a moment, carefully considering the senator’s plea for reason. He looks back to you, Obsidian eyes gazing down at the linen sheet that obscures your sleeping child.

“I am a conduit of their will. Tollere Liberos will prevail and the gods will decide through me.” Geta turns to you fully. Your heart becomes heavy in your chest as you search your husband’s face for tenderness, but see nothing but solid stone.

In your dreams, you imagined the day Geta approached his first heir as sweet—that he might kiss your reddened cheeks and proudly claim his child. Never did you think the sight of him would cause you to tighten your grip and cower away. He looms over the bed where you lay exhausted and perspiring—like a holy monument.

“Show me the child.”

“My love, I beg you—“

“Your emperor commands it.” Geta callously interrupts.

You unwrap your daughter in your arms, trembling hands moving as gingerly as possible. She shifts in her sleep, curling her precious limbs toward her delicate body, but does not wake. Geta’s eyes widen at the sight of her.

“So it is true. My faithful wife’s womb has betrayed me.” His gaze softens. Something stirs behind it, but you are not sure what.

“If you wish to return her life, then be merciful and do the same with mine.” Your heart twists and aches, your love for your emperor becoming a knife in your rib.

To your shock, Geta reaches out to his daughter, takes her tiny fist in his palm, and runs a thumb over her blushing knuckles. She wraps her hand around her father’s finger with a mighty yawn.

You have seldom seen your restless husband become so still.

“She bears your resemblance.” Geta’s voice is but a whisper. His gaze doesn’t stray from her. It appears his heart aches the same as yours.

“And a head of golden hair.” You can only offer an exhausted smile.

Geta takes his daughter into his arms for the first time.

“The gods have spoken!” He declares to the small gathering of senators. Your emperor raises his girl above the laurels atop his head. Some look on with horror, and others with pride.

“She will have my name! It is done.”

As your daughter’s first weeks pass, Geta’s tenderness only grows. In the lavender hours of dawn, you wake to find him cradling her in the crook of his arm. He speaks to her softly.

“Poor girl, you have wounded your father’s pride. My, what tragedy.”

You smile at the sound of her gentle crooning as your husband assuages her back to sleep.

“A son would belong to Rome—but you, dear Septima, will belong to me.”

[g0om]

i love fruit trees on the street thst is OUR fruit tree even if i have to climb the fence to reaxh it