#Rosewood Beach

[emaadsidiki]

Rosewood Beach, Highland Park, Illinois.

[fashionstylwinsp]

Santa Bárbara memory haul

[bons12345678]

Sonic BlueWood & Family At The Beach

[boiohboii]

7. Appreciative

(Lewis Hamilton x reader)

Dating Lewis was hard, yn knew that agreeing to go on that date, and he knew how much she suffered so why not show his appreciation for the girl he loves.

From this list

WARNING: NOT PROOF READ, NOT ACCURATE. if I missed anything, pls lmk.

main masterlist

12 descriptions of a lover masterlist

Lewis saw how yn hesitated when he asked her out, he saw the subtle fidgeting of her fingers around each other and her teeth pulling on the corners of her mouth from the inside. He knew why she would feel nervous, he understands, but he couldn't -wouldn't- back down.

Now after 2 years of being together, he knows that he'd made the right choice in pursuing her, she's been his anchor, the one he can lean on and show what he feels freely. She was there when the car started to go to shit, she was there when things started to be tense between him and toto and she is there through the move to ferrari.

Lewis isn't an idiot, he knows that he can't just be the 1st driver, not while their prince- Charles Leclerc- is there. He knows that even the 7 championships he has under his belt and his experience won't simply make Charles roll over. He also knows that the media has been hounding at him and yn to even get one word out of them so that they could twist it into a worthy clickbait headline. He saw the videos on twitter of people waiting for his girlfriend outside of her work place so that they could ask her about anything and everything.

Deciding to make use of the small break in between races, Lewis had yn fly to Monaco so that they could spend a week there, nothing but the beach, their jetski, their yacht and Roscoe.

"Hello love," Lewis pulled yn in a hug, sinking into her as her scent washed over him. Home. "How was the flight?"

"It was alright," yn mumbled into his chest "missed you."

Feeling movement near her ankles yn giggles a bit,

"and you too baby."

Untangling herself from Lewis, yn leaned over to pick up the dog, well, she tried at least, it was kind of hard to when he was barking and licking her face in affection, signaling that he, too, missed his female owner.

Monaco's streets were such a sight in the evening, with the sun setting the sea in view and the houses blending into the mountains in the background at the sides. It was heavenly.

Yn had always dreamed of staying at a seaside house, to just spend the vacation there with her swimming till the sun set and nothing in mind. Just the sound of the waves hitting the rocks and the feeling of the sand underneath her feet as she lets the water mover her back and forth.

Parking in front of a two story house, yn looked at the painted exterior, the tent made specifically for parking where there was already a jetski and a small boat.

"um lew, did you rent another jet? And why is there a mini yacht"

"Sweetheart, that's a boat." Lewis chuckled

"Okay, why is there a boat? And a jetski different than yours?"

"How about you take these keys, go inside while I bring our bags and then I'll explain, yeah?"

Walking over Lewis kissed her forehead as she hummed in agreement.

Opening the blue painted door, yn searched for a chair to place it in front of it so that it won't close due to the wind, locking Lewis out.

Done with her mission yn looked around being met with a lot of colors that somehow work together.

A round, Olympic bronze wooden dinning table with four chairs in satin purse seatings, a light orange couch with light rosewood, light violet and blue violet cushions and a dark rosewood wooden table with a bunch of papers on the top.

Now, yn knows that Lewis doesn't place anything important anywhere, he is quite organised with where he places everything, so normally she thought that they were just trash and as she was going to throw them out she saw her name out of the corner of her eye.

OWNER: YN LN.

"What the fuck" yn whispered in confusion, her fingers moving the papers, flipping through them.

"LEWIS HAMILTON!" yn started as she moved through the living room, making her way to her boyfriend who was at the trunk of the car getting out her small suitcase.

"Why the hell is there 3 leases with my name on them?!"

"Ah, shit," Lewis looked at her with pleading eyes as he quickly and gently placed her suitcase on the ground "hold on love."

"Lewis,"

"How about you let me tell you everything and then you can decide if you wanna keep them or not, okay?"

Taking her silence as an agreement Lewis continued,

"I know that you think this is too much, I know that you don't need this stuff, I know that you won't easily accept it and that it will take you a while to treat these things as your own, but I got them for you because of who you are to me, how you made me feel safe and heard. How you make me feel comfortable anywhere we go and how much you do for me. You help me when I'm stressed, you stay by my side when I'm sick or when I'm feeling down, you listen to me and you offer solutions to my problems, you ask me what I need or what I am looking for and you bring it to the table when I want it. You do everything right by me.

I know that you will say that I do the same and I am glad that you noticed my efforts and my love for you, but I just," sighing, Lewis took a minute to collect his thoughts.

"It felt right, it felt right to get you a house that you always dreamed of where you can spend as much time as you want, it felt right to get you a boat so you could enjoy it with whomever you wish and it felt right to get you the jetski cause it's the one thing that makes you seem like a little kid in a candy store, it makes your eyes sparkle with so much joy.

I want you to have all of that, I want to know that you are living a dream you always had even if we don't make it. Although, don't think I'll let you go that easily, in this lifetime or the next ones." Lewis joked, earning a chuckle out of a teary eyed yn.

"I love you yn," Lewis said earnestly as he took a hold of her hand, "I love everything about you. I appreciate everything you do for me and I will do everything I can to always make you happy, I swear it love."

Kissing the palm of her hand was the last straw for yn, tears falling onto her cheeks as she looked at the man she loves.

She felt so much love in these few minutes that her brain couldn't comprehend it. The words that came out of Lewis made her feel like the only woman in the world, they made her feel special and these words stayed in her mind among the memories of why she'd marry Lewis and die beside him.

Taglist: @raizelchrysanderoctavius

[ve1il]

Here is a list of perfumes that i think Nanami would wear.

Before starting let me explain my vision. The perfumes on this list vary between very strong scents and fresh ones, i feel he would have this big collection of perfumes and he would choose very wisely and planned for which occasion or when he feels like using it and of course he has a very refined taste.

(Everything here came from the sephora site, if you guys want to check it out)

TOM FORD Ombré Leather

Fragrance Family: Warm & Spicy

Scent Type: Woody Spices

Key Notes: Black Leather, Violet Flower, Jasmine Flower

Fragrance Description: A distinct floral leather, Ombre Leather Parfum intensifies the original scent, fusing heated leather florals with woods. This perfume merges black leather with powerful violet leaf and sensual cedarwood laced with a hint of green tobacco—capturing the unbridled sensuality of the American west.

$275.00

JO MALONE Wood Sage & Sea Salt Cologne

Fragrance Family: Earthy & Woody

Scent Type: Earthy Green & Herbs

Key Notes: Ambrette Seeds, Sea Salt, Sage

Fragrance Description: Enwrapping and joyful. Windswept walks along the beach, the air fresh with sea salt, the mineral scent of rugged cliffs and earthiness of sage.

$165.00

CLEAN RESERVE Reserve - rain

Fragrance Family: Fresh

Scent Type: Fresh Aquatics

Key Notes: Bergamot, White Flower, Vetiver

Fragrance Description: This unique unisex perfume captures the dewy scent that lingers in the air after a lush rainfall. Crisp, watery cucumber notes and airy musk blend with vetiver and patchouli adding a touch of earthiness to create the calming scent you inhale walking in the woods after a passing rain.

$110.00

ARMANI BEAUTY Armani cold parfum

Fragrance Family: Earthy & Woody

Scent Type: Citrus & Woods

Key Notes: Mandarin Essence, Bergamot Essence, Rosemary Essence, Vanilla Extract, Cedar Wood Essence

Fragrance Description: The Code Le Parfum rewrites the code of a timeless masculine fragrance, infusing the powerful and seductive signature tonka bean with fresh scent notes of iris, sage, and bergamot, to create a woody aromatic fragrance blend that is long-lasting and uniquely distinctive.

$144.00

YVES SAINT LAURENT L'Homme

Fragrance Family: Earthy & Woody

Scent Type: Citrus & Woods

Key Notes: Bitter Orange, Oakwood, Vetiver

Fragrance Description: L’Homme Eau de Parfum is a warm and woody men's cologne inspired by an orange bourbon sour. Sparkling bitter orange creates tension with the warmth of bourbon notes from oakwood infusion and vetiver, reinventing the iconic L'Homme signature in a more intense version with a sensual trail.

$129.00

TOM FORD Oud wood

Fragrance Family: Earthy & Woody

Scent Type: Classic Woods

Key Notes: Rare Oud Wood, Sandalwood, Chinese Pepper

Fragrance Description: A composition of exotic, smoky woods including rare oud, sandalwood, rosewood, eastern spices, and sensual amber—revealing oud‘s rich and compelling power.

$295.00

(I’m planning on doing with other jjk’s character too so stay tuned)

[piececake]

Rosewood Park Chapel & Beach I built yesterday <3

[mithrilwren]

First Lines

Tagged by @thetragicallynerdy to share the first lines of my last ten fics! (Thank you for all the tags!!) I think I did this ages ago but I truly can't remember which ones I posted at the time, so I might as well do all ten!

Table Manners (Usopp/Sanji, Sanji teachs Usopp about fine dining etiquette)

See, there are some rules about the world that Usopp is still learning. He likes to think he’s a quick study—he’s kind of had to be, given he always seems to end up with the jobs nobody else wants—but weird things still catch him off guard: little details he’s never had a reason to notice, or care about.

2. Rosmarinus (Sanji + Nami, Sanji gives Nami a haircut and has some Feelings about it)

Sanji wouldn’t call hairdressing a particular talent of his, any more than Zoro would probably call lifting heavy objects a talent. It’s simply another application that his hands happen to be well suited for.

3. The Oar that Leads Us (Nami + Sanji, Nami and Sanji get stranded together in the East Blue)

They take stock in a moment of hard-fought calm: Sanji counts the food, while Nami counts her bruises.

4. Caleb Widogast's Five C's of Safe Return (Caleb/Essek, Caleb and Essek build a life together in Rexxentrum post-canon)

The little house sits along the western edge of the Tangles, just beyond the elegant disorder of the Court of Colors and its lively, winding streets. Its door is made of sturdy Dwendalian oak, but the floorboards are rosewood, brought from the shores of Nicodranas and laid in neat order by Caleb’s own hand.

5. burning up (for you, baby) (Caleb/Essek, the M9 have a beach day and Essek gets a sunburn)

The successful completion of a world-saving quest calls for a week in the sun: relaxation, rejuvenation, relocation (while the heat of Trent’s still-ongoing search dies down). With amulets slung over bathing wraps and under wide-brimmed hats, the Mighty Nein make their way back to Nicodranas, pay their respects to a grateful Yussa, and hit the beach.

6. Damage Control (Essek + Caleb, Essek gets hit by a curse in Aeor that devastates his powers)

“Ooo, look at this!” Essek looks up from his perusal of the cabinet’s bottom shelf to find his vision obscured by a curtain of deep, vibrant blue.

7. Echoes (Caleb/Essek, Essek is unsettled by Caleb's new eye-related powers)

There was a time when a voice from the darkness was comforting.

8. to say what lips cannot (Essek/Caleb, Essek muses about Caleb's hands)

It’s not hard to guess where the fascination began. So much of a wizard’s work is done with the hands. A forefinger extends, leaving wisps of smoke in the fiery ember’s wake. Crooked thumbs come together and apart, and space rends before their passing. A dot of sweet nectar passed over the lip, and the tongue becomes as deft as the curling wrist that placed it there. 

9. a liquor never brewed (Caduceus/Eodwulf, Caduceus has an unexpected crush)

“You don’t like meat, and you don’t like drink.” Eodwulf grins, arms uncrossing. “Is there anything you do like?”

10. your dust from mine (Fjord/Caduceus, Fjorclay retelling of The Goose Girl fairytale)

Fjord’s first memories are of darkness.

Phew, that was a lot! Tagging (if they feel like it!) @the-littlest-goblin, @saturdaysky, @soullistrations, and anyone else who feels like doing it!

[sigloverofwords]

let me wrap my teeth around the world

An Astarion x spawn!Tav fanfic

Series warnings: violence, injury, abuse, self injury, suicidal ideation, animal death, rape (past), ptsd, emotional abuse, physical abuse, mental abuse, scars, panic attacks, manipulation, transformations

Summary: You awake at the nautiloid crash, wounded and starving but free of your Master for the first time in your life. You’re determined to get as far away from Him as possible, and finally get some answers about your existence. Fortunately for you, you stumble upon another spawn. Unfortunately he doesn’t seem to want anything to do with you.

Your ability to transform into a monster quickly changes his mind, though.

Posted to AO3 first!

Author’s Note: this is a y/n-free second person slow burn hurt eventual comfort fic. Lots of heavy stuff addressed, please take care of yourself and don’t read if any of the warning subjects are triggering to you.

2k+ word chapters

Chapter 2 (prev)

Your dreams are scattered and frightening, flashes of memory become nightmare. Even deep in unconsciousness your body aches, protesting the abuse it's been put through. You dream of transforming into the monster He made you, of your true self curled up in a ball, encased by a beast worthy only of execution. It makes you sick to your stomach, and you wake suddenly, choking back bile.

Disorientation overwhelms you when you jerk awake, coughing hard. Blankets pool in your lap as you shoot up into a sitting position and hunch over until the hacking subsides. The unfamiliarity of your surroundings makes your heart rate leap, your eyes immediately darting to your wrist.

Although it's banded in deep, rough scars it's free of any restraint. The scars are familiar to you, but they sting with a distant memory of pain, and you hug your wrist to your chest with your other hand as you take stock of your situation, letting out the occasional cough.

"Well, that didn't sound comfortable," a familiar voice drawls from beside you. Startled, you whirl on the elf. He’s lounging in a woven wooden chair, turning the simple piece of furniture into a throne with the way he drapes his lithe body over it. You blink

“You’re here,” you croak, throat stinging from the abuse of smoke and acid, hand still clutched close to your body. The elf raises a white eyebrow.

“Well, you did insist I take you with me to Baldur’s Gate. Leaving you unconscious on a beach wouldn’t exactly be an auspicious start to our partnership.”

Shame flushes up your neck and over your cheeks, and you bury your face in your hands.

“I can’t believe I did that,” you mumble through your fingers. “I’m so sorry.”

The elf seems to be holding back a scoff.

“Darling, it was stunning. Let’s just keep all that…” he gestures vaguely to all of you, “fabulous rage pointed away from me, yes?”

You can’t help flinching away from his flippant gesture. For a moment you think you managed to disguise the movement with a nod, but his red eyes narrow at you, while your own widen slightly.

This is not a conversation you’re looking to have right now.

Or ever.

Nervously flicking your tongue over your dry, cracked lips, you turn to survey the room you’re in, hoping that indicates the subject is closed. 

You're sitting on a raised stone slab, made more comfortable by the furs and blankets laid out across it. It's carved directly from the ground, the same as a wide table across the room and shelves lining the walls. Aside from the seat that your elf companion is currently using, there’s a few other pieces of wooden furniture, and stacks of closely woven baskets and chests stacked against one wall. 

All around you is bare stone, but the room doesn't feel suffocating. It's large enough to hold several other, empty beds, and a few carefully constructed holes in the ceiling let in fresh air and sunlight. It's all quite peaceful and utterly unfamiliar.

“It’s not exactly the Rosewood Retreat,” the elf says with the tone of someone looking down their nose at their current establishment, “but the druid was a semi-capable healer. She managed to get you patched up.”

You realize that your various body aches and pains have indeed subsided, leaving you with the normal weighty exhaustion you always experience after transformation.

“Thank you,” you say, turning back to face him, and realize that you don’t even know his name. 

A corner of his mouth lifts in a smirk and he stands, bowing with a small flourish.

“Astarion, at your service.”

You gather your strength to answer.

“Tav,” you reply finally, reluctantly. This immediately piques his interest.

“Really?”

Pursing your lips, you nod.

“Fascinating.”

He seems to murmur this to himself. You drop your eyes, finding the raised skin of your shackle-scarred wrist once more, tracing the all-too-familiar contours with a light finger.

Another gift your master had given you: an outcast’s name, shared by criminals and despised people everywhere. Anywhere you went in the Sword Coast, you were branded as someone who was dangerous or reviled enough to be ejected from your home and family.

He had ensured that, even if you managed to escape, you wouldn’t even have a name of your own. Astarion, with his bright eyes studying you like a snake watches a mouse, appears to be familiar with this.

“Well, that’s a story for another time, it seems,” he says with finality, verbally closing the book on your name situation, at least for the moment.

You look up at him, eyebrows drawn together in confusion. He’s pointedly inspecting a fingernail, flicking a tiny speck of dirt off it.

He doesn’t…he doesn’t care?

The very idea baffles you, but you decide not to push. Gods know he’s already done enough for you, something that you need to acknowledge.

“You didn’t have to bring me here, especially not after…”

You trail off, unwilling to put into words what you can do.

“Nonsense,” Astarion waves away your apology, looking up from his hands. “If I rejected out of hand everyone who threatened me a little then I’d never get anywhere with anyone. Water under the bridge, my friend.”

There’s a glint in his eye that makes you uneasy, but a quick assessment of your situation leaves you little choice.

“In that case, I’ll ask properly, like a civilized person,” you say. “Astarion, would you allow me to accompany you to Baldur’s Gate?”

He smiles, a grin that’s all fang and no mirth.

“Tav, it would be my absolute pleasure.”

Astarion points you towards a set of clean clothes set out on the end of one of the other beds, and you spend the next few minutes changing behind a folding wooden screen while he catches you up on your current situation. 

From what Astarion can tell, the reason you two can walk in the sun is thanks to an illithid worm inserted before the nautiloid crashed. While it holds the promise of almost certain death (and soon), he plans to take every advantage given to him, and you silently agree. If a mind-flayer worm was what allows you freedom from your master, however brief, you’ll take it. You just won’t allow yourself to come under another’s control again, but that is a problem that you’ll deal with when it presents itself.

For now, you are currently in a druid’s grove not too far from the crash site, but there’s trouble brewing. Goblins camped nearby have been launching raids on the grove, so in response the druids are ejecting all outsiders and conducting something called the rite of thorns.

“It sounds about as pleasant as the druids act,” Astarion says acerbically. “The sooner we leave them to it, the better.”

You emerge from behind the screen, tugging at the robes. They’re supple leather and some sort of hardy fabric, clearly used but clean and in good repair. Although they hang off your bony frame a little, they’re leagues better than anything you’ve had for years.

While you’re overwhelmed with the feeling of wearing real clothes that actually offer comfort and protection, Astarion eyes you critically.

“Not the most flattering outfit I’ve ever seen,” he says, then shrugs one shoulder. “No matter, we can always stop by Facemaker’s when we get to the city, it’ll do for now.”

You stare at him out of the corner of your eye, baffled.

What sort of life does he live as a spawn that he can worry about clothes? You wonder.

Before you can ask, Astarion heads for a door carved directly into the wall that you had missed earlier.

“Come on,” he says. “We’d best get going before these druids trap us under a briar.”

You have to trot a few steps to catch up with him, still processing everything. Going from under your master’s thumb to freedom is dizzying and overwhelming, and part of you is grateful to have someone to follow.

He’s not in charge of me.

You remind the skittish, fearful part of you, the part that calls the monster more often than not, that you’re still free. Allowing yourself to follow in the wake of someone more experienced and well-adjusted until you can get a handle on yourself doesn’t mean you’re trading one master for another.

That frightened part of you protests, but you’re able to keep it calm for now, like a ranger calming a spooked horse.

The door opens with the grind of stone on stone, and suddenly your senses are flooded with input. Fresh air, warm with sunlight (sunlight!) and carrying birdsong, breezes in to surround you. A few strands of your hair wave around your face, tickling your skin, and you can’t stop the way your jaw drops a little and you stop where you are, soaking it all in.

Astarion turns, annoyed at the holdup, but pauses when he sees you. He looks away, crossing his arms and clearing his throat while you step into the grove’s clearing.

The druidic chants weave around you, the magic practically tangible, an electric taste on your tongue. Flowers burst from thick grass everywhere you look, animals roaming freely around you.

Everywhere is flooded with warmth and light.

It’s the most beautiful thing you’ve ever seen.

When you turn back to Astarion he looks distinctly annoyed, and he rolls his eyes when he sees the tears threatening to spill from yours.

“Come on,” he says, beckoning you to get a move on. “Try to keep it together, I managed to keep our little secret from the druids so far, and I’d like to keep it that way.”

Chastened, you nod, arranging your hair around your neck to cover the scars there.

“How’d you manage that?” you ask in a whisper, following his weaving path up out of the grove.

He shrugs.

“A little luck and keeping the blanket tucked up under your chin. It wasn’t hard to tell them you caught a chill.”

“Oh, right.”

You sometimes forget that you run much cooler than a mortal. Following Astarion through a crowd of distraught tieflings (tieflings in a druid grove?) you’ve almost made it to the gate when an accented voice calls out.

“Astarion!”

You both turn to see a dwarven druid jogging towards you. She has black hair cropped just above her shoulder and faded tattoos across her face. She gives you a small smile and nod.

“You two heading out, then?”

To your surprise, Astarion steps closer to you and takes your hand. You stiffen immediately, trying to subtly pull away. His grip is tight, bruising if you were human, and you feel panic creeping up.

“We are,” he says smoothly, smiling as if he isn’t white-knuckling your hand despite your minute attempts to free yourself. “Thank you so much for your hospitality, we wouldn’t want to impose any longer. You’re all so busy.”

“That we are,” the dwarf replies, “still, I’m glad I was able to help your wife.”

She looks at you and your mind short-circuits.

You hate yourself for your immediate, gut reaction.

He wouldn’t like that.

Despite physical freedom from your master, you are quickly coming to realize that he has a mental hold over you that wasn’t broken by the tadpole in your head. It makes you a sickening combination of angry, terrified, and despondent, but you push past it and force yourself back to the present.

Astarion bids goodbye to the healer who had helped you, and you manage to give her a weak smile. You and Astarion walk out the gate, hand in unwilling hand.

You manage to make it a hundred yards into the wilderness before your skin is crawling and your empty stomach is about to try to expel whatever acid it holds. With a jerk, you rip your hand from Astarions. The sudden, vicious movement takes him by surprise, and he turns with an offended expression.

“Are you quite alright?”

You know you must look a sight, every muscle tense and lip curled in a feral snarl, fingers running roughly over your hand as if to scrub his touch from it.

“What was that?” you demand. The beast inside stirs, scenting the air.

Astarion blows out a breath, spreading his arms.

“Isn’t it obvious? A man shows up with an unconscious, severely injured woman in his arms. That will raise a few eyebrows no matter where you go. I simply headed off some prying questions by saying you were my wife and you were hurt when a giant mind flayer ship fell out of the sky.”

You can follow his logic but it still turns your stomach. You don’t know if it’s because of the conditioning you’d been put through or just the small thread of steel you have left rebelling at the idea of belonging to a man, either way, you aren’t willing to let your travels with Astarion start out like this.

“No,” you say firmly. Just using the word feels unfamiliar and wrong, so you force yourself to practice and say it again.

“No, you can’t do that.”

Astarion rolls his eyes dismissively.

“It’s really not a big deal—”

“No.”

It’s getting easier now, and you draw yourself up from the crouched, hunted creature position you had been in.

“If something like that ever happens again, figure it out. Tell them I’m your sister or something.”

Matter closed, you stalk past him. If your heart beat then it would be pounding. You’re flooded with adrenaline, mind whirling. You did it, you stood up to someone. A small smile flickers across your lips, and a tiny, infinitesimal spark of hope starts to burn in your chest.

Behind you are quick steps, then suddenly Astarion is at your side, speaking into your ear.

“But that wouldn’t be nearly as much fun,” he says lowly. You whirl on him, teeth bared, ready to show him how important your new boundaries are, but he backs off immediately, a dark grin on his face.

“Just teasing,” he says, holding up his hands placatingly. “Come on now, surely becoming a spawn didn’t suck your sense of humor away too.”

You hesitate, trying to remember.

“I…don’t know,” you say finally. “I’m not sure if I had one.”

The shadow of familiarity crosses Astarion’s face. His hands lower, and he nods slowly. Then, like a dog shaking off water, he straightens and shrugs his shoulders.

“Well, we have a journey ahead of us,” he says. “We’re a good week out of Baldur’s Gate, and that’s if the roads are clear, which I hear they are not. Maybe we can find out on the way.”

You also straighten, tilting your head a little. Maybe he just sees you as a pet project to pass time on the road but maybe,  just for now, you could let him think that.

For the first time you consider what freedom might actually mean, aside from getting away from your master’s sick control. 

I can figure out who I am, you think. I can figure out who I want to be.

The spark of hope grows, just a little.

[saintmeghanmarkle]

Meghan attended an event organized by Greycroft yesterday (02/05) at the Rosewood Miramar Beach Hotel in Montecito. Greycroft is an American venture capital firm. Looking unhappy she does not have the Mic in her hand. by u/Meegainnyc

Meghan attended an event organized by Greycroft yesterday (02/05) at the Rosewood Miramar Beach Hotel in Montecito. Greycroft is an American venture capital firm. Looking unhappy she does not have the Mic in her hand. https://ift.tt/Cjev95n post link: https://ift.tt/G6TUdSR author: Meegainnyc submitted: May 04, 2024 at 03:05AM via SaintMeghanMarkle on Reddit disclaimer: all views + opinions expressed by the author of this post, as well as any comments and reblogs, are solely the author's own; they do not necessarily reflect the views of the administrator of this Tumblr blog. For entertainment only.

[sl33py-g4m3r]

noob questions~~

since I just restarted again~~~ rip rosewood~~~ you will be missed~~~

what island layout should I go for at the start? something specific or just what I want? or both, lol. but that could take hours~~~

I transferred my user profile to a switch lite and that's why I had to restart~~ no second user to use the transfer tool with

:(

hope I stick with the switch lite for a while~~~ It's so cute and portable~~~

what should i go for? fruit? airport colour? where the northern beach is? whether the airport is lined up with resident services or not? certain villgers? all of the above?

or what is objectively the best starter layout?

kind of sad about restarting but at least I wasn't that far yet~~~ like 3 days, lol.

will once again post layout when I get a good one~~~

also how do you name your island without it being boring or overused or something? I'm not good at naming things~~~

edit: new island~~~ and the stuff I want~~ back beach isn’t unobscured tho… but the airport and the resident services are perfectly aligned I think~~~!!!! And I got peaches ~~~ hence the name~~

I am unoriginal, lol

[emaadsidiki]

Rosewood Beach from Rosewood Park Bluff, Illinois.

[firespirited]

Treated myself after a medical setback: Barbie Extra Fly "June" who's currently half price on amazonFR for 18€ shipped which usually means some kind of leftover batch with some kind of flaw:

Sure enough her lower arm fell off as soon as I gently removed her from the packaging, a moulding error. That choppy beachy grown out hair-style needed a trim, the saran is slightly textured rosewood and dark brown. The paint is well aligned, screening is not UV dotting and dotting barely visible. The usual matte vs shiny mess on the legs.

She's also got some kind of residue on her face that won't come off with alcohol, I'm going to try soap next. It could be mould release or maybe some kind of hair product (?)

As usual the 'extras' and clothing aren't that interesting but I undid the ruffled sides of her beach wrap to allow a lot more space to turn it into a wrap dress.

The neon palm tree earrings are arrow headed and need cutting from the inside of her head.

She's one of the prettiest Junes they've made so far.

bonus picture: both dogs had to try the delivery box

[mdeanstrauss]

A few months ago I attended a reunion of my Tau Epsilon Phi fraternity from the days I was an undergraduate at the University of North Carolina. We convened in a house at Virginia Beach, generously offered by one of the brothers. I brought along my Lowden S-50, which was recently purchased and a couple of my brothers asked to play it repeatedly. This photo is documentation. The guitar has a unique warm but powerful tone, and a very interesting appearance because of the woods from which it is comprised. The back and sides of the guitar are made with Cocobolo, which is in the Rosewood family and the top is referred to as Sinker Redwood, which is very unusual appearing. Sinker Redwood tone woods are derived from Giant Redwood trees that were cut down in California about 100 years ago. Some of the cuttings became trapped in river beds during the journey to the coast where the sawmills processed the wood. Years later the logs were discovered and found to be excellent tone woods for guitars. During the time underwater, the wood petrified giving it a unique appearance and highly prized tonal properties. Lowden, a small company in Northern Ireland, creates a relatively simple appearing guitar with few superficial adornments, but with classic, eye pleasing aesthetic dimensions.

[dom-bastiansmythe]

@honeysuckle-rosewood replied to your post: looks like perfect surfing weather.

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Alas, no beaches nearby, or I would definitely try that.

[armoricaroyalty]

Ask from @housekonig that got sent to my main (@hormelfoods, where I am tarnishing the good name of the Hormel Foods company), answering over here!

Blackwell Palace is built on a peninsula just south of the Armorican capital of Breizh. The palace (along with six other royal homes including Rosewood Hall, the primary residence of the Duke and Duchess of Laye) are situated on a 400 acre park called Kingswood Green which consists of woodlands, rocky shorelines, and beaches on a landscape of rolling coastal drumlins.

In addition to the seven royal houses, Kingswood Green is also the site of a medieval fortress that now lies in ruins.

The name, Blackwell Palace, is derived from a miracle which supposedly occurred on the grounds in the 17th century. In 1640, Saint Fleur, from whom the royal family claims descent, led his followers in battle against the occupying Atrean force (@atreanroyals) but were forced to retreat to what is now Kingswood Green. Cut off from fresh water, his forces had resigned themselves to slow deaths from dehydration when the Saint struck a black granite boulder with the butt of his spear, drawing forth a miraculous freshwater spring that sustained the dwindling Armorican troops for months, until worsening winter storms forced the Atrean retreat.

Blackwell Palace, Rosewood Hall, and the ruined fortress are all purported to be haunted.

Portions of Kingswood Green are open to visitors, although none of the Palaces or royal homes there are currently open to the public.