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kendra-realtor · 2 years

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WATER VIEW LAND #forsale Lake of the Woods #lakeofthewoods #low LAKE OF THE WOODS #bestamenities

by AMY BREEDEN, Realtor EXP Realty LLC

BUILDERS DREAM LOT !!! .57 acre level lot located in Lake of the Woods. Beautiful Lake views, easily accessible to Club House. This lot provides the perfect layout to build your dream home. . The community offers 2 lakes, an equestrian center, tennis courts, fitness paths, ball fields, and so much more for your recreational needs! ***GREAT BUILDING LOT IN LAKE OF THE WOODS PRIVATE GATED COMMUNITY**** LOCATION, LOCATION, conveniently located by many areas of enjoyment.****LEVEL LOT**** *** A MUST SEE **** SPECTACULAR !!! BUILD YOUR DREAM HOME, RELAX, ENJOY ALL LIFE HAS TO OFFER......... ***buyer will be responsible for the removal of the trees.***

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explodingstarlight · 1 year

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no you don't understand i love baby raph so much

#im so serious these memes give me so much serotonin #that mew mew mew meme kicks my ass in the best way possible #amen and god bless rottmnt fandom (/non-religious)#turtle tots #rottmnt #turtle tot raph #explodingstar art #i do be doodling at work #phone doodles my beloved #rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #rise of the tmnt #tmnt #tmnt raph #raph mew mew mew hamato #tcest dni or i will stomp you to death with my hooves #rise of the neurodivergent teenage mutant ninja turtles

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mugentakeda · 6 months

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not even harvards top scientists could understand the complexities of the azula-iroh beef lore that i made up in my head

(silly bonus under the cut)

#YES THIS IS A REPOST. Again. my bad #they both suck so bad i love them... best uncle niece dynamic in fiction ever..... theyre the same in all the worst ways....#yes im an iroh fan yes i think azula can hit him with a comically large mallet we exist #“how do u think iroh and azula are the same but think azula should be allowed to beat irohs ass”. ill give you 3 reasons #1. shes a female. 2 shes not a boy. 3. and most importantly SHES A GIRL #waiter waiter more irrepairable family relationships please!!!!!!!!!!#id go on a 10 yr long spiel about my thoughts and hcs abt their dynamic and what they think ab each other but i shall Refrain.#lu ten couldve been the dad that stepped up but he had to eat shit and die for the plot and good of the world. Amen.#azula #iroh #lu ten #zuko #atla #avatar the last airbender #alicias art

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tiffray · 4 months

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commission by @kmpslashposter ♥️

for me & @captainspaulding

#THANK YOU KMP YOURE LITERALLY THE BEST FOREVER AMEN #♥️♥️♥️#house of 1000 corpses #rob zombie #otis driftwood #captain spaulding #commission #rz #spotis

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denjidenjiji · 3 months

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Ruce Duvall you have me cry8ng and screaming over you. I hate you

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th3e-m4ng0 · 1 year

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time wisely spent

#transformers #g1 #megatron #laserbeak #art #crack #this is the best thing i've ever done #and its a shitpost. amen

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acheronist · 2 months

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so as far as i can tell, he got hit with a moment of Existential Panic And Misery and then wrote down his account of his entire sailing career to add in next to his issued ID papers in the wallet. so if the wallet survived then we would know who he was. thanks bestie the clues did help.

#tho he did conveniently leave out the year (1833) where he got disrated and lashed for being drunk and mutinous (according to wikipedia)#and the wikipedia source is a e g jones cited so i trust it #but still. gay people lying on their resumes across time and space amen #anyways sorry about the damaged spots tho.. i'm doing my best. i'm certain a few words in here are wrong lol #his script is so faded and loopy....#it gets really tough to trace/read properly in spots even with the photoshop editing etc #henry peglar #📜#peglar papers

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dontcallmeeds · 1 year

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Part 2 of Eddie Making Jewelry For Steve; Part 1 here / Part 3 here / Part 4 here

Steve had figured it out after the second little box that was left on the Family Video counter.

He didn’t see Eddie leave it, he was too involved in his conversation with Robin that happened to be about his panic surrounding Eddie.

See the thing is, he knew there were bisexual people and he knew he liked men for years.

But saying it outloud and falling for his best friend? Well, that was a whole other thing.

The way Steve figured it out was the handwriting on the little notes. It felt a little crazy comparing his Family Video card paperwork to the notes, but Robin was the one who suggested it.

Eddie looped his lowercase Es tightly, to the point they almost looked like Cs. And his Is were always lowercase with a circle instead of a dot.

It really just had to be him leaving the beautiful pieces that made Steve’s heart melt and his stomach fall out his ass. Although, he still had his doubts. There was no way his dream guy was just being that fucking perfect, that wasn’t usually how Steve’s life went.

But oh god did he sure have hope.

Steve thought he was being obvious that he knew, wearing the ring that he had fallen in love with in front of Eddie. He even fidgeted with it and caught Eddie staring at it before the other man quickly looked away.

He couldn’t help but tear up in the Beamer after the outing, asking Robin for advice only resulted in drunken living room karaoke, not a plan.

Steve tried to ask where he got his pieces once so maybe him and Robin could run surveillance like old times, but Eddie ended up being vague and elusive.

When Steve brought Nancy into the secret op, she suggested a stake out which felt like stalking. She started a board with dates and drop off locations and roughly estimated it was every 2-4 weeks on dates Steve was usually busy.

It was coming up on almost a month since the last drop and Steve was practically showing off with the last chain, making sure his polo was just open at top enough for Eddie to see.

The flushing across Eddie’s cheeks into his chest was everything, but still his metalhead said nothing.

It was time for Nancy’s plan.

Steve dropped days he’d be busy, watching as Eddie seemingly made a mental note of them. His feigned disappointment was shaky, Steve hoping he’d just blurt it out without confrontation.

But alas, nothing.

Nancy put on her ‘undercover journalism best’ aka a literally just a black sweater and black pants, borrowing her parents car instead of using her own. And I’m that moment Steve felt—

“Am I crazy? Is this whole thing crazy?” Steve paces the Family Video aisles between romance and comedy, which felt pretty fitting considering his love life was a joke.

Robin places a hand on his shoulder and gives him that all encompassing look between the fact that she thinks it’s completely sane, but also really fucking crazy.

“You want to know for sure, right? Not just the handwriting or little weird glances?”

Steve sighs and then nods slowly, he really did want to know for sure. But the problem is what came after.

“Okay then, we’ll just see what Nancy says then hmm? For all we know it could be a boring—“

As if on cue, the walkie they stole from the kids crackles.

“Steve—it’s for sure him, he just—“

“HE JUST WHAT?! WE NEED ANSWERS WHEELER,” Robin shouts into the speaker before Nancy can even finish, Steve grabs the walk-in out of her hand with a scoff.

“Say sorry to your eardrums for her Nance— so wait, what happened?” Steve tries to shove down his nerves, but his fingers on the device tremble.

“He leave something in your mailbox, do you want me to—“

“Steve, GO!”

He really needs to teach her what an inside voice is.

“Are you—“

“I’ll cover you, if Keith comes back I’ll—I’ll make up a dead aunt or say you ripped your pants, I don’t know! I’m not good under pressure, you know how I get Steve. Goddamnit, just go before I start rambling!”

Steve nods and handing her the walkie, running out the door. He knows he breaks the speed limit on the way home, knows if he gets pulled over he can just use the Hopper card. He normally wouldn’t, but extreme times and all that.

Nancy is pulled into the drive when he gets there, popping out when she sees him pull up next to the mailbox.

“Hey I wanted to stay, for you know, support,” she says with a small smile, seeming to enjoy this all way too much.

“Nance, you didn’t have to—“

“Yes I did, Steve. Now fucking open it before me and Robs burst a blood vessel.”

Steve nervously chuckles, his fingers twitching on the mailbox door before pulling it down to a little red box.

‘Stevie, something different,’ is all it reads.

He shares a glance with Nancy, before pulling it out.

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fleshdyke · 2 years

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i think it starts with an apocalypse. by sheer luck and circumstance, you survive. you seem to be the only one.

everything seems barren, eerily still, nothing but grass and trees and water. you survive, but there is nothing here. the only sign that anyone was ever here is pyramids of solid red brick, stacked up in a uniformly triangular shape. they don’t seem to do anything. you are alone.

your first night finds you tormented by the dead. they groan and creak and seem to be desperate to infect you. they are all dead by morning.

there’s only a few resilient species that seem to have survived along with you. they’re your only chance right now. the sheep provide companionship. you learn not to get attached to the pigs.

you build a home for yourself. it’s modest, nothing fancy, but it protects you from the elements. you still have hope. your footsteps echo through the empty house in the mornings. you are alone.

it takes years, but ever so slowly, the second hominid re-emerges. they build villages and farmland and are happy to barter with you. they have their own language. you seem to have forgotten yours.

you find the remains of wild animals you haven’t killed. you learn to be patient, and watchful, and you see the wolves that hunt in the forests. it takes a long time, but you gain the trust of one of them. she never leaves your side again.

you explore a little more. you find ancient temples in the deserts, booby trapped and filled with forgotten riches from millennia ago. you don’t know who built this. whoever it was disappeared a long time ago.

jungles flourish and bring with them tropical fruit and colourful birds and skittish cats that seem to love fish. you take home as many as will follow you. the world isn’t quite so quiet anymore.

the oceans come alive again. it’s no longer an empty, unforgiving void that you just so happen to be lucky enough to float on. schools of fish flicker away into vast kelp forests when you cast your lure into the water. the tropical shallows fill with a myriad of fish and coral in every colour you can think of. you find an old boat, much bigger than anything you could ever construct, laying dormant at the bottom of the sea. the writing on the maps you find there is familiar.

there is a temple in the middle of the ocean. you don’t know who built it, but it’s been reclaimed by the fish. you don’t dare go there anymore.

bees buzz softly through the air. you learn to keep them, and learn to harvest their honey, and your crops grow better than they ever have. your livestock keep you busy. your livestock keep you distracted.

even the lost dimension that connection to was severed so long ago returns to its former glory. you explore forests of mycelium and dunes of sticky sand and basalt spires and with them they bring the lost intelligent hominid. you learn quickly not to touch their temples, no matter how run down they seem to be. they are holy.

and even in the most hostile, barren places, deep underground, the place where only you seem to have ever been, life flourishes. glowing lichen lights your way and bears you fruit. massive caverns and underground freshwater pools are home to unique plants and unseen amphibians.

and even after so much growth, and so much recovery, you are still alone.

you search. you search for months that turn into years that turn into decades. what was once a humble homestead has grown into a fortress. you are safe there. you are alone. on every expedition, you leave markers and statues, anything to say i was here. i am alive. you set up beacons to signal to anyone who might be out there. no one ever responds. you are alone.

you follow forgotten maps to the ends of the earth to find anyone that might have survived alongside you. you cannot give up. you cannot be alone.

you experiment. you’ve found a way to cure infected villagers, to return them home, but have had no such luck with the remains of your own species. you think they’re your own species. they’re the closest thing to you that you’ve seen. you grow desperate.

the humanoids that walk freely between their realm and yours used to frighten you, but you’ve been alone for so long you find yourself talking back to them. you begin to hear greetings in the noises they make. you know they aren’t talking to you. you wish you could talk to them. you don’t try to make eye contact.

you follow every clue you find in forgotten ruins. they always lead to nowhere. you piece together portals to other worlds, and find nothing but hostile hellscapes and misery. you have travelled across the world. you’ve gone from blistering deserts and over unforgiving mountains and through freezing tundras and across oceans to find someone, anyone. there is never a new signal, a new clue. there is never anything to indicate that there are any survivors.

you are alone.

your bones creak. it’s been so long. you don’t want to die. you don’t want to take your species with you.

so what do you think, when you turn to see someone standing in a doorway in your fortress that you spent decades building? someone so unmistakably human, someone you’ve spent your entire life searching for to no avail, someone you’ve been constantly lying to yourself about, convincing yourself they were out there somewhere, all the while knowing they weren’t?

you don’t know if you’re hallucinating, if you’ve finally slipped into madness. if this is just a stroke of bizarre luck, that the other survivor has found you before you could find them. if this is another malevolent entity in a world full of strange magic and power, something that was once human, or is only somewhat, or is just appearing to be, and is simply better than the others at pretending.

only one way to find out.

#i think today i will write a poem about minecraft #mc is a psychological horror game. and i fully believe this #and that makes it one of the best games ever made amen #btw dsmp fans dont interact. i hate you and your racist white guys #rambles #poetry #poems #minecraft #mc #horror #writing #my art #long post #psychological horror #unreality #100 #best

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billsbae · 23 days

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i love the cold x hot dynamic with zutara because katara cuddling to zuko in winter for warm, and zuko cuddling to katara in summer for cold <3

#it makes my heart go 💕💞💓💓💞💝💘💖#cold x hot is the best dynamic amen #zutara #atla #random zutara stuff #katara #avatar the last airbender #zuko #prince zuko #headcanon

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xamaxenta · 7 months

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Once again i am here to support fanfic writers i am an extremely vocal advocate for fanfiction writers in fandom space yall are so important and you provide fics that are beyond exceptional FOR FREE????

Fucking hell

#you guys r so rad #you guys r the best #to anyone who has ever written ace ever for their fics MUAH THANK YOu!!!!!#if you have written for the portgas d ace tag on ao3 i have probably read it amen thank you for the food

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camelspit · 3 days

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The winner of the 2024 Keeper Sexywoman Tournament is MASTER CADENCE!!! ty to everyone who participated :)

#SEXY SEASON IS OVER!!! WAHOO!!#no more queueing posts.. amen #unless i decide to do the best character tournament this summer #still undecided about that #kotlc #keeper sexywoman 2024

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ctntduotism · 1 year

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Reblogs are appreciated peepoFlute

#music duo #wilbur soot #wilbur soot fanart #tallulah #tallulah the egg #tallulah fanart #qsmp wilbur #qsmp tallulah #qsmp #qsmp fanart #quesadilla island #mcyt #mcyt fanart #id like u guys to know that i will keeo drawing tallulah even if she dies tommorow. amen #blissful denial my best friend #digital artism

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spohkh · 7 months

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#evilive #im going to fuckng throw up this show is my best friend forever and ever and EVER AND EVER AND EVER AMEN #ITS GIVING ME EVERYTHING I WANT IN THE WORLD!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!#THIS IS A LOVE STORY. IF YOU EVEN CARE #isabeau edits things

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argburlazerbeamsyou · 2 years

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shoutout to quackity for being the only one to have a coherent, well executed, greatly paced story with a great payoff and a conclusión to the character that made sense thematically and also had a great theme

#quackity #dream smp #if nobody got me i know las nevadas got me can i get an amen #he always makes the best stories #even when the circumstancies are a bit goofy like in karmaland #his characters are always so well written and acted #so my headcanon is that the las nevadas finale was the dsmp finale and then everyond lived happily ever after or whatever and dream died #and connor got all the riches in the server and never died

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wolfavens · 7 months

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ghost car of barna road

track 3 - liberty belle 1/2

my manager greeted me in irish.

i blinked at the screen in mute panic. i couldn’t remember how to reply. words and languages collided in my brain. it was a car crash, baby, and in the end all that came out of my mouth was a prolonged aaah with no end in sight. a perfect visual representation would be a multilanguage tsunami, pouring out of my ears and pooling around my slippers on the dusty rug of my childhood bedroom.

i used to write those words down into a black notebook, watching you mock me from that dusty rug. you and your smug gaeltacht born grin. who would’ve thought i will forget them all by the time i’m 30.

“how did the move go?”

move. to galway. my hometown. i found my voice again and rushed out: “oh yeah! the move went okay. got here late last night. drive was smooth. not many cars around after midnight.”

“hehe, don’t get used to it. it’s a totally different story after 8am.”

we chatted for a while, arranging to meet in dublin next month when i was all settled in. won’t take long. all i needed was to get a flat, a car - did i need help with the flat? there are probably relocation programmes for employees available. no. i think i got it. did i tho?

we finished the call twenty minutes later. the fact i managed to scrape by enough words to at least tell him goodbye in irish seemed to cheer him up a bit.

i finished up some minor work tasks, sipping at the remainder of my mother’s disgusting herbal tea and took a short break to open the dusty unused storage areas of my childhood bedroom. i needed to clean up the old junk before moving in the new junk. i had to give one thing to my mother; she did an excellent job of preserving this place. if ever i managed to do something worthwhile with my life she could start charging fucking entry for this museum of fiadh kavanagh.

shaking my head i started pulling out old clothes and creating a pile on the floor. if she believed i still fit into these jeans i should be worried about early onset neurodegenerative diseases.

i was done with the columns and moving on to the hangers by the time she stuck her head in and quirked her dark eyebrows at me. “need any help?”

“mom, why the fuck did you keep all this?” i asked, showcasing fist-full of short gothic dresses. “aren’t you worried about clothes moths?”

ignoring my point she sat down on the bed, smiling. “oh, i though you might still like to keep some of it. it’s not like we need extra storage.”

“mom, look at me!” i threw another armful onto the pile, lifting my arms to indicate my age ravaged body. “how could i possibly fit into size four?! some of these are from the children’s section!”

“you look like a string, you could easily fit. it’s the cigarettes. they are not good for ya.”

i rolled my eyes. “i’m not even fucki…”

the feel of a familiar soft fabric beneath my fingertips made me stop midsentence. i pulled it out into the light with shaking fingers, heart racing against my ribcage. it looked huge in my palms. the faded graphics were barely visible in the shadowy light of my room. if you tried hard enough you could just barely make out the name of the band. distantly i heard my mom echo my name but i was stuck in the past, standing in the cold autumn rain by the open driver’s side window of your car.

“ooooh, i remember this one,” my mother said with a nostalgic smile.

i made a small sound at the back of my throat.

“it’s the donovan boy’s, isn’t it? i remember teasing him about it. i told him: young man, this is not a free laundry i run here! you know what he said to me?”

i nodded, whispering, “it’s not my fault yer daughter is a stinkin’ thief.”

she laughed. “little bastard. he was the worst influence on you. funny how he turned out. would never expect a son of deirdre donovan to make something of himself. i guess we owe it all to the wife. she…”

my body snapped back to action. i was moving away before she could say her name. putting the sweater on the bed next to her, i brushed my hands against my sweatpants and mumbled: “right, look we need to get rid of all this before i can unpack. do you know someone with skinny teenage children? ideally with a questionable fashion sense?”

“we can drive to the clothes recycling point.”

“grand! let’s do that after work.” i told her, kicking my way through the discarted clothes toward the closet and dumping whatever was left on top of the rest. “i need to get back to work now. i have a meeting in 20.”

“oh, ok. sorry.” she chuckled, standing up. “i will bring some bags to put all of this in.” she reached for the sweater on her way out and i jumped in to block her path on impulse.

“uh… where are you taking that?”

she blinked up at me, brown eyes surprised. “downstairs. i figured i could return it to the rightful owner rather than donate it to charity. although,” she giggled, pulling it apart for scale, “i doubt it will still fit him.”

she was gone before i could open my mouth, taking the sweater with her. my clenched fists unclenched with effort as i pushed the door closed and leaned my back against it. i was breathing too hard. the way you handed me that sweater through the driver’s side window on that rainy, a blast from the past; a ghostly memory. just enough to make me shudder.

#simblr #ts4 story #s:gcbr #oc:ann marie #oc:fiadh #it's adorable how gorgeous fawn believes #she looks old and ugly #hell i wish i looked like fawn #also join me in appreciating stolen garments #the best possible sweater is one you don't own #amen

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