Lorth's Jungwon showed up at my door with two tickets to a superhero movie, looking more excited than a kid on christmas, lol. He talked through the whole film, whispering predictions about the plot and gasping at the action scenes.
Afterward, he reenacted all the fight scenes on the sidewalk all the way home, using a rolled-up poster as his sword. People stared, but he didn’t care. His endless energy should be exhausting, but it’s actually makes me feel brighter. :)
Afterward, he reenacted all the fight scenes on the sidewalk all the way home, using a rolled-up poster as his sword. People stared, but he didn’t care. His endless energy should be exhausting, but it’s actually makes me feel brighter. :)
❤10🤩4🏆3🆒3💘3🔥2🥰2👏2🎉2⚡1💯1
rise and shinee, eldies! ♥️ monday's here and i'm ready with chocolate and good energy <,3
💘7☃4🍓4🏆3🐳2🔥1🥰1🎉1🆒1🦄1
noon, eldies! ♥️ have a great day, sorry im late to say hi hihi ✌️🏻
Jangan dengar kata mereka
yang tak ingin kita satu. Yakinkan aku milikmu, aku milikmu
yang tak ingin kita satu. Yakinkan aku milikmu, aku milikmu
🔥3🏆2🆒2💯1
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ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ
Monthly Keepsake, of @Kheraeld. /
As we stand buoyant, traces on the ground where our roots once planted occur.
Shall the downpours that have poured and the flake of the sun that have been reaped become the confetti of the significant day. The scent of musk, the lane where the crowds gather—blood by blood, soul by soul, and palms by palms. They unfold altogether, we mouth the prayers, and triumph is all over the chamber. May there be a lantern awaits until the ménage is overfilled with nought yet the sempiternal exultation.
Sincerely, Musing of Recollection.
@Kheraeld, the Root of Solace.
ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ
Monthly Keepsake, of @Kheraeld. /
As we stand buoyant, traces on the ground where our roots once planted occur.
Underneath the epithet of the vicinity, and the wish that lies on the table that we mail to @TheEldraeth, @tuneofdaerl, @Haormonys, @Tyunthera, @TheNorbury, @TheVentresca, & @Grachter for the commemorative fetes.
Shall the downpours that have poured and the flake of the sun that have been reaped become the confetti of the significant day. The scent of musk, the lane where the crowds gather—blood by blood, soul by soul, and palms by palms. They unfold altogether, we mouth the prayers, and triumph is all over the chamber. May there be a lantern awaits until the ménage is overfilled with nought yet the sempiternal exultation.
Sincerely, Musing of Recollection.
@Kheraeld, the Root of Solace.
ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ