On this bright and refreshing day, there’s nothing better than spending time together at an amusement park. Enjoying various rides—from Lex Luthor: Drop of Doom to Batman: The Ride. Greesacht’s Martin screamed loudly, adrenaline surging as he rode the extreme attractions. Even Siegern’s Keonho said, “I want to get off” eight times! Thrilling—but that’s where the fun truly lies.
🔥2🆒2😎2❤🔥1❤1🥰1👏1🏆1🍾1👀1💘1
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Forwarded from #YoungseoMeowments.
𝐄𝐍𝐀𝐌𝐎𝐑𝐄𝐃 𝐑𝐄𝐂𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐂𝐇𝐄
. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁ 🎀 ݁ . ⊹ ₊ ݁.
Sumptuous Celestemere
opulent fiddled beneath sirenic benison
to eudaemonia lustre clasped in scenes.
Quixotic lavishly elicited Lee Youngseo
whelved in munificence eminence and
dallience luciscura imparted spellbound. ⋆.ೃ࿔
𝐄𝐍𝐀𝐌𝐎𝐑𝐄𝐃 𝐑𝐄𝐂𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐂𝐇𝐄
. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁ 🎀 ݁ . ⊹ ₊ ݁.
Sumptuous Celestemere
opulent fiddled beneath sirenic benison
to eudaemonia lustre clasped in scenes.
Quixotic lavishly elicited Lee Youngseo
whelved in munificence eminence and
dallience luciscura imparted spellbound. ⋆.ೃ࿔
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ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤVARNISHED OF MEMORY
ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ(12th) : Letter.
ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤWhere the brush still breathes?
It hung where time moved slowly—dust drifting like whispered prayers, golden light flickering across its worn frame. The painting, old as memory, stared back not with eyes, but with something deeper, the ache of what once was. Brushstrokes, though cracked, still breathed with intention. And still, it spoke. To those who dared linger. To @altefiore, @PromiseSeason, @Eeljes, and @HusvomMeiers who stood before it in reverence, their reflections caught within the canvas’s quiet ache. No one remembered the artist’s name. But the soul? The soul remained—trapped, blooming, eternal. Proof that some beauty outlives even the hands that made it. With endless gratitude to all who wandered here, where this splendid memory shall forever cradle every journey taken and every generous spirit shared—bathed beneath the moonlight of joyful minds.
Signed in light and longing,
@KinOfGreesacht
ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ(12th) : Letter.
ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤWhere the brush still breathes?
It hung where time moved slowly—dust drifting like whispered prayers, golden light flickering across its worn frame. The painting, old as memory, stared back not with eyes, but with something deeper, the ache of what once was. Brushstrokes, though cracked, still breathed with intention. And still, it spoke. To those who dared linger. To @altefiore, @PromiseSeason, @Eeljes, and @HusvomMeiers who stood before it in reverence, their reflections caught within the canvas’s quiet ache. No one remembered the artist’s name. But the soul? The soul remained—trapped, blooming, eternal. Proof that some beauty outlives even the hands that made it. With endless gratitude to all who wandered here, where this splendid memory shall forever cradle every journey taken and every generous spirit shared—bathed beneath the moonlight of joyful minds.
Signed in light and longing,
@KinOfGreesacht
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Forwarded from DIARY OF THE HEFFLINS: A Page We Probably Shouldn’t Post.
ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ
ㅤ📔 THE HEFFLINS’ DIARY ENTRY #001
ㅤㅤOUR GATE’S OPEN (APPARENTLY).
So, the elders said we should “open the gate” and let more people in the family. And here we are, @TheHefflins are now accepting new members. Yeah, you heard that right, we’re expanding.
Here’s the lineup we came up with and somehow, it makes sense: Parents Figures (1980–1994), Aunty & Uncle Figures (1995–1999), Eldest Children (2000–2002), Middle Children (2003–2005), Youngest Children (2006–2011). You can peek through here to see our taken list tho! 👀
Send this through @HefflinsBot. 📬
If you can survive a group chat that never sleeps, welcome hugs that come with sarcasm, and a family that laughs way too loud, The Hefflins want YOU! 💥
🏠 Gate’s open. Step in before someone locks it again.
ㅤ📔 THE HEFFLINS’ DIARY ENTRY #001
ㅤㅤOUR GATE’S OPEN (APPARENTLY).
So, the elders said we should “open the gate” and let more people in the family. And here we are, @TheHefflins are now accepting new members. Yeah, you heard that right, we’re expanding.
Here’s the lineup we came up with and somehow, it makes sense: Parents Figures (1980–1994), Aunty & Uncle Figures (1995–1999), Eldest Children (2000–2002), Middle Children (2003–2005), Youngest Children (2006–2011). You can peek through here to see our taken list tho! 👀
Dear The Hefflins, it’s me, (your name), using (your muse + line). I was just minding my own business when I spotted your post-it note on the neighbor’s wall. Congratulations, you’ve got yourself another troublemaker. 👊🏻Send this through @HefflinsBot. 📬
If you can survive a group chat that never sleeps, welcome hugs that come with sarcasm, and a family that laughs way too loud, The Hefflins want YOU! 💥
🏠 Gate’s open. Step in before someone locks it again.
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Forwarded from Kittage. #19GoingOnHaum
ㅤ
ROSÉ CHÂTEAU IN HAUM DREAM
Verses from the Devout of
Rosaceous Light.
𓂃 ོ☼𓂃
The gala unfurls, Kwak Haum, in her crystalline bloom. Commands the carousel of moments spun from quartzine light, a candyfloss covenant, an ode to divine temporality wrapped in rhinestone hush.
𓋜 ࣪˖ Reverent Overture in Petal Hues. ˚₊⊹
ROSÉ CHÂTEAU IN HAUM DREAM
Verses from the Devout of
Rosaceous Light.
𓂃 ོ☼𓂃
The gala unfurls, Kwak Haum, in her crystalline bloom. Commands the carousel of moments spun from quartzine light, a candyfloss covenant, an ode to divine temporality wrapped in rhinestone hush.
𓋜 ࣪˖ Reverent Overture in Petal Hues. ˚₊⊹
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ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤVARNISHED OF MEMORY
ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ(13th.) : Letter.
ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤWhere the brush still breathes?
It hung where time moved slowly—dust drifting like whispered prayers, golden light flickering across its worn frame. The painting, old as memory, stared back not with eyes, but with something deeper, the ache of what once was. Brushstrokes, though cracked, still breathed with intention. And still, it spoke. To those who dared linger. To @Edenearth, @YJFluence, @KatsOfCovet, @LegacyOfDustborne, @RebelResonance, @Dewmourne, @Thirensoles, @MaisonOfNethers and @HouseOfCarterez who stood before it in reverence, their reflections caught within the canvas’s quiet ache. No one remembered the artist’s name. But the soul? The soul remained—trapped, blooming, eternal. Proof that some beauty outlives even the hands that made it. With endless gratitude to all who wandered here, where this splendid memory shall forever cradle every journey taken and every generous spirit shared—bathed beneath the moonlight of joyful minds.
Signed in light and longing,
@KinOfGreesacht
ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ(13th.) : Letter.
ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤWhere the brush still breathes?
It hung where time moved slowly—dust drifting like whispered prayers, golden light flickering across its worn frame. The painting, old as memory, stared back not with eyes, but with something deeper, the ache of what once was. Brushstrokes, though cracked, still breathed with intention. And still, it spoke. To those who dared linger. To @Edenearth, @YJFluence, @KatsOfCovet, @LegacyOfDustborne, @RebelResonance, @Dewmourne, @Thirensoles, @MaisonOfNethers and @HouseOfCarterez who stood before it in reverence, their reflections caught within the canvas’s quiet ache. No one remembered the artist’s name. But the soul? The soul remained—trapped, blooming, eternal. Proof that some beauty outlives even the hands that made it. With endless gratitude to all who wandered here, where this splendid memory shall forever cradle every journey taken and every generous spirit shared—bathed beneath the moonlight of joyful minds.
Signed in light and longing,
@KinOfGreesacht
❤1
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Forwarded from MONROE: LA SYMPHONIE DE PARIS
ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ
ㅤ 19:ㅤ🎭ㅤTHE FOREMOST ARCHWAY ㅤㅤ
ㅤㅤㅤ OF Maison De ℳℴ𝓃𝓇ℴℯ.
✥---------------✥---------------✥
Lo, the perron lies apert, désenchaïné from its lock. Welcoming new kindreds shall be interlaced within the loom of temps. Étincelant in lumiere celeste, the hinges creak a hushed susurrus, carrying whispers from cles long effaced.
This long corridor is a limen where abiding is chaperoned lingers in unuttered couplet. The velvet curtains quivers, voices begin to ricochet, weaving each verse of soubrette deep laï the marrow, is this not the aria of postérité entwined, searching for compagnons to build an eternal proscenium?
01. ARRAY OF LIGNÉES.
ㅤㅤㅤㅤ✣ LES PARENTS,
ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤThe steadfast pillar from
ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ1980—1992.
ㅤㅤㅤㅤ✣ TONTON ET TATIE,
ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤRadiant keepers from the
ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ1993–1999.
ㅤㅤㅤㅤ✣ LES AÎNÉS,
ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤThe Firstborn, kindled between
ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ2000–2003.
ㅤㅤㅤㅤ✣ L’ENFANT DU MILIEU,
ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤThe Middle, kindled between
ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ2004–2007.
ㅤㅤㅤㅤ✣ LES PLUS JEUNES,
ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤThe Youngest, kindled between
ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ2008–2010.ㅤㅤ
Prithee behold the tableau, compiled across the years, across the bonds, and across the cast of our parentèle dortoir (Taken List). Should you entreaty to enroll, you may conscribe your name upon the charter we have prepared, and let your presence join this immarcescible scene:
https://t.me/+zwIoE9PmfAJlN2E1
Transmit your missive to our cryptic hollow, @DeMonroeBot. Forcément each cantilena of your tessitura was once hearkened. May that prerogative not fester into unbidden loss. ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ
ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ
ㅤ 19:ㅤ🎭ㅤTHE FOREMOST ARCHWAY ㅤㅤ
ㅤㅤㅤ OF Maison De ℳℴ𝓃𝓇ℴℯ.
✥---------------✥---------------✥
Lo, the perron lies apert, désenchaïné from its lock. Welcoming new kindreds shall be interlaced within the loom of temps. Étincelant in lumiere celeste, the hinges creak a hushed susurrus, carrying whispers from cles long effaced.
This long corridor is a limen where abiding is chaperoned lingers in unuttered couplet. The velvet curtains quivers, voices begin to ricochet, weaving each verse of soubrette deep laï the marrow, is this not the aria of postérité entwined, searching for compagnons to build an eternal proscenium?
01. ARRAY OF LIGNÉES.
ㅤㅤㅤㅤ✣ LES PARENTS,
ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤThe steadfast pillar from
ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ1980—1992.
ㅤㅤㅤㅤ✣ TONTON ET TATIE,
ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤRadiant keepers from the
ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ1993–1999.
ㅤㅤㅤㅤ✣ LES AÎNÉS,
ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤThe Firstborn, kindled between
ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ2000–2003.
ㅤㅤㅤㅤ✣ L’ENFANT DU MILIEU,
ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤThe Middle, kindled between
ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ2004–2007.
ㅤㅤㅤㅤ✣ LES PLUS JEUNES,
ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤThe Youngest, kindled between
ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ2008–2010.ㅤㅤ
Prithee behold the tableau, compiled across the years, across the bonds, and across the cast of our parentèle dortoir (Taken List). Should you entreaty to enroll, you may conscribe your name upon the charter we have prepared, and let your presence join this immarcescible scene:
Transmit your missive to our cryptic hollow, @DeMonroeBot. Forcément each cantilena of your tessitura was once hearkened. May that prerogative not fester into unbidden loss. ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ
ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ