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knp diblock woi? 😢yank?😡apaa?😒knp diblok?😭hah?😖ya orang telpon” trus🙅 ya kenapa, kan aku pngn telponan😢 ya masa gaboleh😢 login sih☹️ yaallah apasihh😓yaudah😿jawab dulu ajg😭 lama” bunuh diri gw😟😭stres ajg😭ydh si by ngapain di perpanjang😌 huaa😭😭😭
🔥8🏆8🎄5⚡4🆒3❤🔥1🎉1🍓1💘1
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ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ
ㅤㅤ THROUGH. / THE. / GLOWING.
ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤBLUE-GATE.
ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ ( Monday, 15 September 2025 )
Our journey began deep within an ancient forest, where the canopy of emerald leaves whispered tales long forgotten. Hidden beneath shade was a narrow path quiet, untouched, and waiting! At its end stood a glowing blue portal, (... 🪻) humming gently with the kind of magic that only hearts still enough to dream can feel.
Happy mensiversary our dwellers: @TheWilkins. We were strangers once, each carrying our own beginning. But stepping through that portal stitched our paths into a tale! One filled with quiet warmth, and the kind of belonging you don’t always find, but somehow found us. (Here’s to more moments, more pages, and more wonders yet to bloom.)
ㅤ
ㅤWith stardust beneath stories in hand
ㅤfrom your roaming soul, @HouseOfLuthien. 🗝️
ㅤㅤ THROUGH. / THE. / GLOWING.
ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤBLUE-GATE.
ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ ( Monday, 15 September 2025 )
Our journey began deep within an ancient forest, where the canopy of emerald leaves whispered tales long forgotten. Hidden beneath shade was a narrow path quiet, untouched, and waiting! At its end stood a glowing blue portal, (... 🪻) humming gently with the kind of magic that only hearts still enough to dream can feel.
Happy mensiversary our dwellers: @TheWilkins. We were strangers once, each carrying our own beginning. But stepping through that portal stitched our paths into a tale! One filled with quiet warmth, and the kind of belonging you don’t always find, but somehow found us. (Here’s to more moments, more pages, and more wonders yet to bloom.)
ㅤ
ㅤWith stardust beneath stories in hand
ㅤfrom your roaming soul, @HouseOfLuthien. 🗝️
🔥1
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Forwarded from DREADSTRANGE: The Upside Down Chronicles.
ㅤ
✱ (🏮
Calling 991 for an emergency from the black and red rift that formed between the labs, things got worse when something came out of its parallel archway. They, the professors call it the Upside Down, and Hawkins is no longer the town of young and sweet. These were strange things happening, supernatural occurrences that could only be handled by those with something special, with a number on their wrists, calling for 1998-2006 liners with no twins who could volunteer to fight those in the Upside Down, even if they were young and only seventeen, even Eleven was not even seventeen. The dark moments when the jukebox is tuned to the strains of jass and the wall clock that spins in the air and Vecna lurks in the background occupy the mind and only the music-listening angel can overcome them. Come on baby, come on darling @Dreadstrangebot steal some time to line up and make a deal with God, run along Vecna's endless narrow mind, at least we have Kate Bush as our angel saviour as long as we hold onto her, along with stranger things that give a little kisses.
✶✨ The air feels so different this summer, isn't it the perfect time to experience the weird and wonderful Upside Down? If not them then who else, control your mind with the music box as the real man plays guitar in the stormy Upside Down, he still does it until now at least until the cheer leader meets him.
ㅤ
✱ (
LOCATION: Hawkins' Laboratory.) / Calling 991 for an emergency from the black and red rift that formed between the labs, things got worse when something came out of its parallel archway. They, the professors call it the Upside Down, and Hawkins is no longer the town of young and sweet. These were strange things happening, supernatural occurrences that could only be handled by those with something special, with a number on their wrists, calling for 1998-2006 liners with no twins who could volunteer to fight those in the Upside Down, even if they were young and only seventeen, even Eleven was not even seventeen. The dark moments when the jukebox is tuned to the strains of jass and the wall clock that spins in the air and Vecna lurks in the background occupy the mind and only the music-listening angel can overcome them. Come on baby, come on darling @Dreadstrangebot steal some time to line up and make a deal with God, run along Vecna's endless narrow mind, at least we have Kate Bush as our angel saviour as long as we hold onto her, along with stranger things that give a little kisses.
With *Muse + Line* deciding to take the lab trial for Vecna's resistance, are there any other strange things that need to be tested before you accept me? Sincerely yours, *Name*.
ㅤ✶
! ㅤ
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Forwarded from DISBAND. (FREE UNSUBS)
( 🩸 ) like paper dolls left in the rain, colors fading into silence this space turns on quiet bargains & passing hands.
The season bends differently now—what better time to enter the play no curtain can contain? If not you, then who will hold the mask? The strings are tightening, the stage is waiting, and sorrow is already listening.
The chandeliers sway, violins weep without touch, and shadows bow in empty seats. Step nearer, wanderer—@HellowithenFamilia keeps the doors ajar. Cross the threshold, lend your heartbeat to the act, and become part of the sorrow that never ends.
Here, the performance hunts for new voices— 1999–2010 liners, no twins, no mirrored doubles—to inherit the script scrawled in ash. Seventeen or not, the theater accepts all who dare bow to the silence (TAKEN LIST).
The curtain rises, the strings tighten, and the sorrow waits in silence.
The season bends differently now—what better time to enter the play no curtain can contain? If not you, then who will hold the mask? The strings are tightening, the stage is waiting, and sorrow is already listening.
The chandeliers sway, violins weep without touch, and shadows bow in empty seats. Step nearer, wanderer—@HellowithenFamilia keeps the doors ajar. Cross the threshold, lend your heartbeat to the act, and become part of the sorrow that never ends.
Here, the performance hunts for new voices— 1999–2010 liners, no twins, no mirrored doubles—to inherit the script scrawled in ash. Seventeen or not, the theater accepts all who dare bow to the silence (TAKEN LIST).
What entered through the cracked proscenium was not actor nor guest, but sorrow itself *your muse + line and your id* painted in wax and wound in strings. This is The Exhibit of Sorrows, where grief performs endlessly, and applause never fades. (@helloowithenbot)
The curtain rises, the strings tighten, and the sorrow waits in silence.
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