House Of Diaz: "Legacy in The Dark."
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ERROR—CODE. @HouseOfDiaz AGENT INITIAL
DESIGNATION! And right on target. "The alien
showed." Like blazes, he instanter reported to:
@DiazArchives @TheDiazBot &
@DeDiazBot (For sfs only). |
Stay alert at all times. ✶
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lo liat siapa? eyes on me baby. lo liat siapa sih? kenapa cowo tuh ganteng? jacket nya cantik? liat sayang liat aku. Look at me. gausah deh liat tu cowo ada apa sih sama dia? rambutnya two block doang. aku juga bisa bikin wolf cut + two block. kenapa matanya warna hazel? liat mataku. lo ini ya ... gimana ya, maybe some pengajaran? buat kamu doang cantik..lo liat tu cowo dengan romantic tone. eyes on me baby. your eyes never lie. kamu bilang gapapa? gapapa APANYA?! lo luat dia dengan tone romantis lagi. kenapa suka sama dia? bilang! kenapa nangis? ini di restoran sayang. gausah nangis jelek muka lo. gw ga suka liat istri gw nangis mukanya jadi jelek. gw ngambek dikit nangis kenapa sih lo? you want mu attention? bisa ga sih tapi ga sekrang. sekrang kita pulang ke rumah trus kamu hrus get ready ya..kamu yau lah ya..get ready to scream my name, begging, crying. only for this night you say? maybe more than one night baby. i will make your eyes only on me. your mine honey you mine and mine no one else.
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House Of Diaz: "Legacy in The Dark."
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Angkel nya sibuk kerja, yang atas malah istri-istri an, coba minimal ada kejelasan siapa orang dibalik panggilan istri itu? Wajib menghadap keluarga, kami murka!
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ㅤㅤ        Blues Of Goury 𖦹 🍸
ㅤSearching for lost summer glory

 
In the expansive fabric of existence we are mere wanderers weaving our courses through the threads of fate. Similiar to a ship seeking its lost anchors, we too are in pursuit of new family members who will sail this voyage alongside us.

Here are prerequisites for joining in if you fit the lines range of:
1994 ㅡ 1999 For Aunty/Uncle
2000 ㅡ 2010 For Children


With an affectionate heart and a willing spirit, come and embrace the warmth of our kinship. Your wisdom and love will be treasured beyond measure. With dreams as vast as the horizon, we open our arms to you. Let the bond of kinship grow strong as we welcome you to our heartwarming fold! Come to our bot @GourysBot to register yourself to be part of us.

𓇻 The secret password:

Ready to embrace the lost summer glory, I eagerly register to become a part of Goury’s! Fueled by [name, muse, line] my soul takes flight to achieve membership in this illustrious family!
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rise and shine daze ku happy terus untuk hari ini (⁠◍⁠•⁠ᴗ⁠•⁠◍⁠)⁠✧⁠*⁠。
pap cantik dari aku yang mau me time, karena nda ada yang bisa di ajak pergi hari ini huftt.
saranghe dazeee 😻😻
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Black File #07-ADX | Operation: Everbound Coordinates locked.

The vehicle hums beneath them—steady, relentless. Laughter filters through the static of the open road. Every turn, every detour, another coded entry in their shared mission log.

Today, @TeenBuds and @Mysticats reaches a classified milestone. Their bond? Deep-rooted. Unbreakable. Like old trees that whisper secrets to the wind. Nature watches. The wind listens. Even the birds adjust their flight.

Fuelled by something no system can track—connection, grit, and the refusal to fold.
They roll forward. One road. One rhythm. One purpose.

Guardamos—Protegemos,
Casa de Diaz.
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( 🩸 ) 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).

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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