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#only the beginning
djglory · 10 months
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mafaldaknows · 1 year
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Are you still Charmie? Armie has clearly admitted to all relationships with women and has admitted to never having been in a relationship with any man. I just hope you guys don't get upset and start criticizing Timothee all the time like you guys already do. After all, it's not his fault that Armie's relationships turned against him.
Hello, Anon:
Everything has changed, yet nothing has changed. Not for me, anyway.
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This is not the end, darling Anon. It’s only the beginning.
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Maintain course. Steady as she goes.
Thanks for your comment. ✨❤️🧿✨
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kaezerdoodles · 2 years
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Dragon Dan? On this blog? More likely than you’d think
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adulting-sucks · 7 months
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👏👏👏
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auras-and-memories · 11 months
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Bonjour, I am Devereaux Blanchet.
a former member of the Kalosian king's guard.
Ghost Pansexual 6'8 former Aura guardian
A very kind guy that loves playing pranks, baking, and who's also a bit confused by modern things
Living in Sinnoh, atop mount coronet
I only have one pokemon
who is a Zorua named Cosette
my descendant is Corentin Allard of @heros-of-kalos , he is my great great grandnephew
Art done by @graceandtheidiotsquad, @paldea-champ-n1cki, my friend sam on discord, and @captain-mommy-issues
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(mun's art)
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silently-judgingyou · 2 months
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Bio:
Full Name: Chani Kynes
Pronouns: She/Hers | Straight
Birthday: 10177 AG
Affiliation: Fremen
Relationship: Paul Atreides (SO)
Headcanons:
Athough Chani is a steadfast presence for Paul in serious times, playfully revels in teasing and creating light discomfort during their more relaxed moments together.
Tagging Posts As: #only the beginning
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cookiecomicinc · 5 months
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Subject Alias: ICE Species: Snow Leopard (Modified) Gender: Unknown
Incident: [REDACTED] Report Note - Subject is far more than what we have bargain for. There's too many factors about that we are unable to find out and they're fast and dangerous to examine closely. Requesting to move subject to Spector Y.
He'll take care of them.
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elizaellwrites · 2 years
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Legacy of the Fallen: The Cursed Snippet
Hey there! This is the first time I’ve put out a larger portion of my writing so I’m admittedly a bit nervous. This is a sneak peek of my book that I’m currently working on and I’d love to hear your thoughts! If you’d like me to post any more, do let me know and I can start posting more about my characters and world I’ve been working on. Thanks!
         Anna closed the front door of her house behind her, leaning against it for a moment, lost in thought. To say that what had happened during her first day of school was unexpected would be an understatement. A smile pulled at her lips, a small laugh conveying her disbelief escaping from the back of her throat.
         Even if they were a little odd, especially Jacob, their kindness had blown her away. After they had finished lunch, each one of them had made some kind of effort to say hello in the hallway or walk to shared classes. Even Ben, still silent as a ghost, had walked hesitantly through the hall with her at one point. It had been a little awkward, but she got the feeling that even if he did want to talk, he would have the same trouble knowing what to say as she did.
         She had gotten a sense from him that there was something deeper to his shyness; if it was even that he was shy in the first place. She hadn’t needed to know them long to see just how protective Rachel was of him, the girl’s eyes flashing dangerously as soon as anyone so much as looked at him. Anna got the impression that they had a long history between the two of them, while Jacob was probably the newer addition to their group.
         It turned out that Rachel was popular in a non-traditional way, though she clearly wasn’t a fan of the attention. It seemed that everyone knew who she was, several of her other friends coming up to them while Anna had walked with her between their tech class and English. Thankfully, Evan hadn’t made another appearance, though after hearing what others had said, she wouldn’t be surprised if he came to bother her again.
         She pushed herself upright, sliding her backpack down her arm to place it on the floor. She looked into their small living room, the low ceiling and eggshell walls not exactly pleasant to the eye, but it was a home. Footsteps from where the kitchen was in the back corner of the house caught her attention as she pulled her arms free from her coat, her father coming into view a moment later.
         There had been many people over the years expressing how she looked nothing like him, and no, their doubt wasn’t from nowhere. He stood at around five and a half feet, though there was just something about him that made him seem taller. His skin was a rich tan, with dark chestnut curls atop his head that stopped just above his shoulders, a five o’clock shadow covering the lower half of his face. He looked young for his age, she knew, not a greying hair in sight, though his worry lines became more obvious the more you looked at him. There were similarities though, her high cheekbones and the upturn on the outer edge of her eyes.
         He currently looked exhausted, bags forming under his shockingly violet eyes, the product of a rare mutation that she long suspected may have contributed to her own strange eyes. His body seemed to wilt, even while he straightened, offering her a smile. “Hi,” his voice was light, cheerful even. “How was school?”
She watched the anticipation in his eyes, the regular hint of guilt floating across his face before it was gone. “It was good,” she felt the grin return to her. She leaned down, untying her boots and freeing the lower part of her jeans.
         “That’s great!” His face lit up. “Did something happen?”
She wanted to laugh at his excitement, but she knew it was because she had stopped answering the question a while ago, much less given any hint of a positive experience. “I think so,” she couldn’t help the small amount of doubt. “I met some people.”
         “Wonderful,” his face relaxed, though his eyes continued to shine.
         She looked at him carefully, the weariness he felt ran deeper than he was trying to portray. She knew that he had hardly slept the night before, the sounds of him having another night terror waking her at sometime around midnight. She had never asked him what they were about, but it was because he hadn’t ever wanted to talk about them. He knew that she was aware of them, their rooms hadn’t always had the best insulation over the years after all but knowing was the furthest they got to acknowledging them.
         He lowered himself down into one of the two chairs they had, a slight grunt escaping his lips as he did so. Immediately, his eyelids drooped, as though now that he wasn’t on his feet, his body had decided it was safe to sleep anywhere.
         She bit her lip, trying to keep her concern from showing. After a moment of silence, she turned away, feet moving quickly across the creaky wooden floor. She entered her room, shutting the door softly behind her. A quiet trill sounded from the heap of blankets at the foot of her bed, a fluffy black head shooting up to regard her with blue eyes.
         She shuffled over to the cat, sinking her hand into Isa’s long silky coat. She had immediately stood up at Anna’s ministrations, arching her back, balancing precariously on her tiny clawed toes. Isa, or Isabelle, as Anna had named her when they picked her up from the streets of Istanbul two years before. She was small for a cat of her breed, a Turkish Angora, only coming out to weigh just over two kilograms. Isa looked up at her with narrowed eyes, a soft purr rumbling to life in her chest as Anna scratched a sweet spot along the side of her neck.
         She looked at the framed picture that she had on her bedside table, the old photo one of the few she had of their family before it was ripped apart. Her father was holding her mother from behind, Natalie, he had told her. Anyone would know that she was her mother in an instant, her father saying many times that she had gotten ninety percent of her looks from her. She had many of the same facial features, the same golden blonde curls, and even her height in relation to her father seemed to align almost perfectly. She was holding a young toddler version of Anna, platinum blonde wisps just starting to curl from the top of her head and face blotchy from obvious tears. At Natalie’s side stood a small girl, around four or five years old, brown hair curling tight in a wild mane around her rosy cheeks. Her sister, Arabella.
         She looked into the deep violet eyes that matched her father’s, filled with joy and innocence as most at that age were. Her father hadn’t wanted to talk about her often, and when he had, it was only in short comments. Over time, she had been able to determine that Bella had died in an accident of some kind only a few months after this photo had been taken. The incident lined up, time-wise, with her mother leaving as well, though she couldn’t help but wonder if she had died in the same incident. If that was the case, however, she wondered why her father just didn’t say so.
         She knew her father didn’t necessarily want to hide the past from her, but it was extremely painful for him even when he began to try. His life before what she could remember was a mystery to her, other than the occasional picture and the short stories he would talk about her mother. In a sense, she understood why he couldn’t talk about the past, the lack of any family presence before he had told her about his recently found older brother, along with his nightmares… it was a dark picture to paint indeed. She remembered the look of utter amazement when he had told her about Joseph, after at least twelve years of silence.
         In truth, she didn’t even know where her father had even grown up. She knew her mother was American, but he wasn’t. He wasn’t from the United Kingdom either, or any of the other places they had lived. His accent was impossible to identify, like a bizarre mix of Arabic, Swedish and French with a minimal addition of English pronunciation as well.
         A paw lightly smacking her wrist turned her attention back to Isa, the cat rubbing her fingers as soon as she started moving them again. A small smile played on her lips at Isa’s affection while she reached with her other hand to scratch down the length of her spine. Blue eyes slowly blinked up at her, her claws lightly pricking her leg through her jeans as Isa climbed into her lap.
         Her hand stopped at the base of her tail, frozen as her fluffy tail was dragged between her fingers and palm. Her eyebrows furrowed as something pricked the back of her mind, like an itch that she couldn’t reach. It was as if something was calling her, though the ‘voice’ was more of a pull.
         She stood slowly, Isa mewling in protest as she jumped down onto the floor at her feet. She exited her room, wincing at the sound of the floorboards under her feet. Her father was hunched over in the chair still, his eyes closed and chest rising in a slow, steady fashion. She passed him in a blur, her socks sliding slightly on the slick floor.
         She rounded through the kitchen, the dark cupboards covering the outside walls with a small window over the sink. The basic, discoloured ivory tiles stretched beyond the small dining table and into what could hardly be called a hall with doors to their utilities and laundry/storage room.
         Her eyes landed on a large box that was somewhat hidden behind a pile of others. She recognised it easily, as it was one that she knew had never been unpacked from when they had first moved from London. They had gotten rid of a lot of the unnecessary knick-knacks and books they didn’t read over the years, but this one particular box had remained, unexplained. Now it was drawing her closer, luring her in.
         What was in that box?
         Pressure against her ankle told her that Isa had followed her, a quiet chirp coming from the cat. She didn’t lean down, her eyes locked onto the plain, unprinted cardboard. Her hand instinctively raised, reaching out before her with fingers spread just ever so slightly.
         Her eyes bulged as the box almost looked like it shifted under her gaze, her breath stuttering as her hand began to shake. In the low light that strewn in from the open doorway, a second source appeared. A turquoise glow seemed to originate directly above her, dimly lighting the white walls in a blue-ish sheen. When she looked up to see what it was, however, the light followed the path of her line of sight.
         She snapped her head back to look at the box, the glow following once again. Her breath was coming faster, her legs feeling weak under her weight. Her hand, still outstretched, flexed absently, the muscles in her arm tightening. A tearing sound just caught her attention, her breath stopping altogether when she saw the makings of a hole just starting to show on the side of the box.
         Anna ducked into a crouch without thinking as a rip rang through the room, her arm moving from in front of her to being raised above her head. She could just see the silver flash at the top of her vision, her fist abruptly closing around something cold and solid.
         She opened her eyes from their sheltered position staring at the floor, the blue light was now gone. She felt her arm lower back to her side, gripping whatever now rested in her hand with white knuckles. She didn’t dare breathe, she didn’t want to raise her gaze to look at the box, nor to see what she held. Her eyes moved on their own, straining from her bowed position to see the jagged hole that punched outward from the cardboard.
         Slowly she forced her head to turn to her right hand, her fingers slipping slightly on textured metal. A silver blade expanding outward from her backhanded grip sent a gasp that shuddered her body. Crystal, wing-like structures jutted out on each side of the hilt in an admittedly gorgeous guard. A silver V-shaped joint connecting the simple length of the blade that was almost as long as her forearm to the hilt, only a sharp hourglass indent two-thirds down the blade interrupting the classic shape. She shifted her fingers slightly, the ridged lines on the grip making it easier for her hand to balance the alien object in her palm.
         She flipped her hand, the blade now directly below her face as she continued to inspect it. Amazement wasn’t a powerful enough word for the surreal feeling that burnt through her body. Dumbfounded, maybe, astonished, bewildered, perhaps flabbergasted, but nothing in the English language could ever truly describe what was happening to her.
         She looked back at the box, swallowing the sting that was appearing in her throat. What in the name of all things holy had just happened? How was she supposed to explain this to her father?
         She made a split-second decision, hopping to her feet with renewed vigour. She crossed the room to the box, looking at the dagger in her hand one last time before shoving it back through the hole it had come out of. Then, she braced her hand on the small counter behind it, shifting its position with her feet to turn the hole away from the door.
         She left the room in a flurry, her feet skidding as she made the arch around the house, going back by her father, and into her bedroom. She paused with her door poised in her hand, heart pounding in her eardrums. She watched her father for a moment, his peaceful form still asleep, eyes shifting in a dream. She quietly shut her door with a trembling hand, bringing it to a fist just below her collar, her heart pounding beneath her fingertips, as she wilted against the solid structure.
         She stared straight ahead at nothing in particular, her whole body screaming in alarm at what she had seen, the cool remaining tingle on her hand reminded her of how the dagger had felt in her hand; like it somehow belonged there.
         What the hell?
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witchmouldcross · 1 year
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Living not to far from the school, in a small town, hearing shouts and screams every so often isn't new. Kind of expected, I guess. Football games amd what not.
Especially in the evenings. After dark.
So I suppose hearing it, at first, it didn't even phase me. It is a game night after all.
My older brother plays. He isn't captain of the team but he is pretty dedicated.
Mom and dad went, not surprising. They always do.
Tonight they left me with the younger ones. They just wanted some time to themselves.
Kind of annoying, but curled up in the basement with cartoons on, it was fine. They crashed soon enough.
Thank the stars because the screaming and shouting got louder.
Maybe we won the game? Its been a rough year, so people were just excited and celebrating.
The neighbors dogs start going off. Again, nothing new they bark at anything.
Brushing it off i force my eyes back to the TV. Might not like the wierd stuff the kids are into, but I can't bring myself to turn it off.
More screaming
Is that... right outside?
Turning my head towards the coverd basement window i feel a chill. Not from cold, even if it is late fall. Its a chill down the spine.
One that makes your entire body lock tight. Heart racing.
Maybe I'm paranoid.
Maybe I've read too many scary stories online.
Trying to brush it off I return, again, to the cartoons. Both kiddos still sleeping wrapped up in blankets.
Safe.
Something falls upstairs, immediately the thundering of the cats running followed. Like when they get the zoomies at 3am.
Had the knocked something over?
Scratching just outside the door to the room we are in.
The cats want in?
That's when I hear it, that deep warning growl and hiss cats give when they are giving warning.
The cats couldn't be fighting, they've been in the same house together since being kittens.
But outside the door I could hear them, hissing, growling.
Normally I would get up and stop them, but that feeling came back.
The chill.
And a weight at the back of my mind, like a voice whispering over and over.
"Stay quiet, don't open the door. Stay quiet dont open the door...."
Even if there was screaming outside. Even if the cats might be fighting, I'm not opening that door.
And I'm going to hope the kids don't wake up.
...
It wasn't long before things got quiet.
The screaming stopped. The cats quieted down. Though they were still making noise i sure wasn't opening the door.
...
Time was feeling questionable when sunlight started to filter in under the door. Every so often i could see the shadows of the cats walking by.
With the sun came their silence.
But dread still seeped into my being.
Mom and dad didn't come home. Neither did my brother.
Little did I realize no one out last night made it home...
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longliverockback · 2 years
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Chicago The Very Best of Chicago: Only the Beginning 2002 Rhino ————————————————— Tracks CD One: 01. Make Me Smile 02. 25 or 6 to 4 03. Does Anybody Really Know What Time It Is? 04. Beginnings 05. Questions 67 and 68 06. I’m a Man 07. Colour My World 08. Free 09. Lowdown 10. Saturday in the Park 11. Dialogue Part I & II 12. Just You ‘n’ Me 13. Feelin’ Stronger Every Day 14. (I’ve Been) Searchin’ So Long 15. Wishing You Were Here 16. Call on Me 17. Happy Man 18. Another Rainy Day in New York City 19. If You Leave Me Now
Tracks CD Two: 01. Old Days 02. Baby, What a Big Surprise 03. Take Me Back to Chicago 04. Alive Again 05. No Tell Lover 06. Love Me Tomorrow 07. Hard to Say I’m Sorry · Get Away 08. Stay the Night 09. Hard Habit to Break 10. You’re the Inspiration 11. Along Comes a Woman 12. Will You Still Love Me? 13. If She Would Have Been Faithful... 14. Look Away 15. What Kind of Man Would I Be? 16. I Don’t Wanna Live without Your Love 17. We Can Last Forever 18. You’re Not Alone 19. Chasin’ the Wind 20. Sing, Sing, Sing —————————————————
* Long Live Rock Archive
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hailbop1701 · 2 years
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reading ur only the beginning fic and i got to the part where it say sam and duke got married and had a kid and uuhgGHHHHHHH had to SPRINT over here just to lyk i love that SO MUCH how the movie shouldve ended if we deep it! loves it!
I'm so glad you like it!! 😄 It's under construction at the moment and I hope to start posting it again at some point!
-H❤🖖
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whats-this-mustelid · 8 months
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I just think that 'animals are living intelligent creatures that have feelings and deserve to be respected' and 'when done properly farming is beneficial to both people and animals and there's nothing wrong with raising and killing animals for food, clothing, and other products' are concepts that very much can and should coexist
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mafaldaknows · 1 year
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HOW IT STARTED:
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Instagram: ramseyart 1.13.2021
HOW IT’S GOING:
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Instagram: ramseyart
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Instagram: petertunney
“DON’T GIVE UP BEFORE THE MIRACLE!” ✨💪💙🔥
#EGBA
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angeladowling · 2 months
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Was it worth it crying all time. What think of the new sound with a capo on the second fret.#Wasteoftime #Onlythebeginning #OnlytheBeginningEp #Guitar #Newmusic #AngelaDowling #AngelaDowlingmusic #foryoupage #foryou #fypシ
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coraz0ndegranada · 7 months
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sister and I have taken it upon ourselves to do a lil Halloween decor on the house….over the next month it’s gonna get sillay
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charlietheepicwriter7 · 3 months
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The Joker was apprehended, sitting on the ground as Batman guarded him, but the kid--"Bruce Wayne's newest ward, how tragic! Hehehe!"--was nowhere to be found. Nightwing and Red Hood desperate searched the warehouse until a shuffling noise grabbed their attention.
A kid, black haired just like the kid in the Joker's broadcast, crawling out of a pile of boxes. "Is it over?" the boy asked quietly.
Nightwing guided him to the only exit, unfortunately walking past the boy's own kidnapper. "Yeah, kid. It's over. Come on-"
Like a shot, the boy rushed the Joker and kicked him right in the balls.
The Joker wheezed like a dying squeaky toy. Red Hood froze. Nightwing immediately snatched the boy up by the armpits, but all that did was give the boy the height to attack again, punting Joker in the jaw. The clown went down and cracked his head on the floor. He did not get back up.
There was a moment of silence before Red Hood roared with laughter, his helmet distorting the sound.
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