This is becoming reality
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don't bother him, he's playing phone games
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TREASURE 2ND FULL ALBUM 'REBOOT' TRACKLIST POSTER
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How freaking cute
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hey bri! Can I call you that- anyway!
how’d you end up a proxy? Didn’t the operator like.. fuck your life up multiple times.
yes! you can call me bri ^^
Anyways … we call ourselves “proxies” but that’s not really the truth. The Operator fucked us over so much it’s hard to even associate with him. For me and Tim, that is. Masky and Hoody ARE his proxies. They are under his complete control, the operator sickness got to them badly. We’re unsure if it’s reversible at this stage but … we highly doubt it. And as for Tobias, he’s also not really a “proxy”. Just had nowhere else to go. He’s kind of like our kid in a sense.
Me and Tim mostly just hang around. Look pretty. Heheh.
I hope this answers your question well !!
(and since you’re the first non anon, send me a dm! you get a special fic ^^ custom … tee hee)
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He’s so silly
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GIRLFRIENDS 🫶
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From here with @maroonhigh
CW mentions of drug rehab & mental illness
Arthur watched as Alfred touched, moved, and disturbed things that weren't his to disturb, then bring him tea and water, and-- Did he even know how Arthur liked it?!-- His nerves are frayed, and it is grating.
"Would you STOP for just ONE moment?!" he snapped, loud enough to startle George, who leapt off the couch and decided that these two in the same room was not a good napping environment, and so minced indignantly right across the threshold.
Even with the weight of impatience and authority in Arthur's voice, there was just a slight crack to his utterance that spoke of the strain of his nerves and brittle temperament.
Arthur did not give Alfred time to answer.
"I don't owe you an explanation on anything, but since I know you're going to be a stubborn, nosy prat about it-- No, I did not check myself out, I am on newly prescribed-- "
--Ah. He cut himself off and shook his head. America didn't need to know that Arthur was on medications for depression. Anxiety. Trying new drugs under a doctor's supervision was a nightmarish carousel of false hope, electric nerves, and days spent dissociating.
America-- Alfred...Did Not. Need. To know.
And just like that, what little fire and bluster he'd had was extinguished with no more spirit to fuel it. He didn't want to talk about being medicated, as though something was innately wrong with him-- he'd known that for millennia now, but never wanted to actually face the cold hard reality of it.
Arthur closed his eyes again and let out a pained, annoyed sigh.
"Jack is taking care of things," he adds, far more even-toned. Jack was taking care of him, too. Arthur wasn't sure where he'd be without his old friend, his capital, and it was a thought he had no desire to entertain.
"Not that it's your business. It's not like you ever visited," he said dryly. "And God forbid you have the courtesy to not fucking touch everything after barging in here, probably didn't even wash your hands! Can't even say hello, or ask me how I'm feeling."
And then, to the crux of Arthur's angst regarding his former protégé: "I know I am a washed-up failure, but the least you could do is stop and--and just-- listen."
Truthfully, he'd never actually asked for those things--at least, not directly. Because doing so would betray that England-- No, Arthur--himself longed for a friendship that did not leave him wanting. He dared not open his eyes, for fear that America would see his vulnerabiliity and the aching desire for a friend, despite feeling down t his marrow he didn't deserve one.
The problem was, Alfred was one of the very few people on the planet who could understand how stupid and tragic and complicated their lives were. But Arthur felt like too much of a coward to ever ask.
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My hands ache and so does my entire body, yet somehow at the same time it all feels numb. That’s what the cold winter does to you I guess. I don’t even know what I’m doing here, one second I was, actually what was I doing? I try so hard to think back to wherever I was but I can’t. The only thing I know is that I really need to get somewhere warm or else I might have hypothermia, though with how long I’ve been standing out next to the road with nothing but a tank top and shorts on, I might already have it.
I keep walking, though slowly, it’s walking. Well maybe? I don’t really know if you can count awkwardly waddling through the snow while shivering walking, but I’ll consider it that for now.
I'm so horribly cold and I can’t see anything but white and the seemingly endless road. Every now and then, I’ve come across a sign that had no more than a speed limit on it. Those are too far behind me to see if I did turn around, and I really don’t want to, not now. I keep pushing through the snow until I physically cannot move.
I fear that my feet will never move again, that they’re now all black and dead like in that one book my friend (who is my friend?) had made me read. I’m so tired, so cold, and there's no point.
I’m going to die next to a road that seems to not have been touched in years, my body buried away in the snow. I don’t even know who I am within this very moment, but I’m so done, and so is my body.
It stops functioning, stops keeping me warm, stops trying to fix me as I fall into the snow which had been up to my ankles.
I shut my eyes and let the cold take me, whoever I am anyways.
------
When I wake up, I don’t know where I am.
I don’t really care where I am though, because I’m laying on something warm.
I’m surrounded by warmth.
------
This time when I wake up, it’s still warm, but it’s like I can feel the chill from the snow in my bones.
Wait- where exactly am I? That's so warm, because last time I checked I died in the middle of nowhere because of stupid snow!
“You did technically die.” someone who obviously isn’t me says. I open my eyes in fear only to see a girl with bright red eyes staring down at me, they’re hypnotizing in a way, but also terrifying. Like death. Maybe I am still dead.
“No- no you’re not.” She says, seemingly annoyed. She backs away slightly and sits on a little chair that's near the bed before sighing, “Look you were dead and now for some reason you aren’t. I can’t explain it to you but I can try to answer any other questions you might have I guess.”
I want to start with how she can read my mind but my voice isn’t working. I can only stutter out the word ‘mind’, and even then I’d be surprised if she or anyone else could tell what I was saying.
“How can I read your mind? I don’t know.” she sighs again, leaning back into the chair. “I get you want that answer, and so do I. I woke up this morning and all I was hearing was whatever you seemed to be thinking.” she said.
Awesome she can read every thought I have. Wait, So you can hear all this?
She nods her head with three fingers held to her temple. Where am I? And who are you?
“I’m Fimma, and you’re in my cabin.” she huffs, “Do you not have any memory at all?” and she frowns slightly when I shake my head softly from the bed I’m still laying on.
“That makes this easier…” Fimma trails off looking up from her hand and back at me. “I know you just that you don’t really have any memory but- can you maybe try to remember something for me? Please.”
I was walking through the snow. Cold.
“Can you be clearer please.” she crosses her arms and stands up again, leaning over me as if to somehow force me to think better, though I highly doubt it was possible.
I’m still cold. Too cold. No more cold.
I curl into the blankets like an upset baby who doesn’t want to get ready for school and face away from her. My body feels so numb. So cold. I’m so cold again.
I hear a panicked yell from behind me before a door opens and a rustling sound is the only thing to listen to in the room.
“He needs to stay warm. Fio grab more blankets- please.” Fimma sounds worried.
“I don’t think it’s helping.” Another voice says.
I shut my eyes and painstakingly force my entire body under the mountain of blankets that are on me. (Since when were they there?)
The cold takes me again.
“No!” is the last thing I hear before I know my body numbs.
---
I open my eyes again and I shouldn’t.
I should be dead.
Let me stay dead
Please.
---
“Stop dying you stupid man!” Fimma (was that her name?) yells.
I feel arms on my shoulders shaking me.
I still can’t speak.
Dying?
Even in my own head my voice isn’t normal, it’s barely there. I somehow managed to whisper in my own brain, which is one of the stupidest things I think I’ve ever done. But what have I done? What stupid things have I done?
“Yes- you keep dying! I don’t how or why, but you keep dying!” she cries.
Why would she cry?
I just met her.
Hurt?
I can’t make sentences form in my own head.
It all feels too foggy up there.
“Not me, you are.” he hears her let out an annoyed puff of air, “Just stop dying, Liam.” she says.
“Please.” she the one who whispers this time, and it’s out loud.
Liam?
I’m still fixated on that name.
She called me Liam.
“Don’t worry about it for now.” her voice is high pitched and hurt.
Maybe she is hurt.
My eyes won’t open.
If she can hear my thoughts why can’t she hear any of this.
Why am I alive again?
The warmth from the blankets around me lure me back into death? Sleep? I’m not sure anymore.
This time, I don’t think I actually want to wake up.
---
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I just found an app on steam for desktop pets. I will be SO normal about a little guy running around my screen. For free. It's early access but whatever
You can have pokemon too. You can have an Eevee!!! My little baby fox!!! THE pokemon of all time!!! Look at himmmmmm!!
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❝ our table is ready, ❞ he says, leading her to the back —— VIP ONLY. he adjusts his tie (green today), tightening it at the neck, before his arm closest to her extends to place a gentle, yet firm hand on the small of her back. she does not need to be led, but he is courteous. ❝ after you. ❞ // * @piliyi liked for a starter from host!ji-hun !!
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i booped myself
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NEW FRIENDXP BANGER LISTEN TO THIS SHIT RNNNNNNNNNNNNN‼️‼️‼️‼️
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@xxgotthedevilinsidexx sent from damon salvatore to katherine pierce : " Aren’t you the prettiest thing on this side of hell? "
⚰️ ―――― KATHERINE KNEW SHE HAD DISAPPOINTED DAMON FOR NOT BEING IN THAT TOMB WHERE HE HAD HOPED SHE'D BE. after all, she needed to escape the hands of klaus. if she had been in that tomb when he had found her, she wouldn't be around at all, and how would that make damon feel? even though her feelings had always leaned towards stefan, his little brother, she still had a fondness for damon salvatore. he was mean, doting, and only sweet to those he liked, and she happened to be one of them; also, did she mention, hot? she loved making him a little angry, just because of the way his nostrils would flare, and his eyes would turn icy blue. it was enough to fuel the desire she had for him; even though it may not be love, not fully, not as strong as she had for stefan. but stefan was hopelessly in love with that dull elena gilbert. what did he see in her anyway? it didn't matter. she got the other brother, and she'd have to make due [ .... ] even if he wasn't completely happy with all the lies she's told to him. she'd just have to make up for it.
A SEDUCTIVE SMIRK FORMED ON HER LIPS AT HIS WORDS, CAUSING HER TO GIGGLE. she approaches damon, with caution, and reaches out her hand to touch his chest, stroking him. ❛ oh damon, you know how to make a girl's heart swoon. did you miss me ? ❜ she asked, biting down on her bottom lip as she peered up at him with doe eyes. she knew that he did miss her, it was clear. after all, he's been searching for her for an endless amount of years and now that she was finally here, he didn't seem all that happy. in fact, he looked annoyed. she could change that. ❛ you're so hot when you're angry, did you know that ? you don't have to be. i'm here now, after all this time that you've been looking for me, and you're just going to stand there ? is this what your grand master plan was ? boring. that's not the damon i fell in love with. ❜
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