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chounaifu ยท 25 days
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" Oh my god are you BLUSHING? In PUBLIC? "
On MAIN?
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chounaifu ยท 1 month
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" I miss my wife, Golbat. I miss him a lot. "
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chounaifu ยท 1 month
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"I don't care about my height until I'm standing next to Archer."
<- 5'10". Archer is exactly 5'11". He is reminded of the extra one inch of height every possible moment.
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chounaifu ยท 6 months
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๐‚๐‡๐Ž๐”๐๐€๐ˆ๐…๐”: An independent, canon-divergent roleplay blog for ๐“๐„๐€๐Œ ๐‘๐Ž๐‚๐Š๐„๐“ ๐„๐—๐„๐‚๐”๐“๐ˆ๐•๐„ ๐๐‘๐Ž๐“๐Ž๐ from Pokรฉmon Heart Gold & Soul Silver. Written by ๐‘๐„๐—. 29. He/Him. EST. 3.5.2023. 18+ ONLY.
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โžค ๐€ ๐’๐“๐”๐ƒ๐˜ ๐ˆ๐: The serpent of Eden, religious trauma, having a deity-shaped void left inside of you, prejudice at the hands of society, surviving a system designed to fail you, grappling with your sense of (im)mortality, finding your teeth, the decay of physical and mental health, a story where Icarus fell from the sky and survived, but came back wrong.
โžค ๐–๐ˆ๐“๐‡ ๐ˆ๐๐’๐๐ˆ๐‘๐€๐“๐ˆ๐Ž๐ ๐…๐‘๐Ž๐Œ: The Backrooms, Dante's Inferno, Devilman Crybaby, The Wailing, Noroi: The Curse, The Skinamarink, Bloodborne, Repo! The Genetic Opera and Silent Hill.
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โžค ๐๐€๐•๐ˆ๐†๐€๐“๐ˆ๐Ž๐: ๐‘๐”๐‹๐„๐’ | ๐€๐๐Ž๐”๐“ | ๐‡๐„๐€๐ƒ๐‚๐€๐๐Ž๐๐’ | ๐•๐„๐‘๐’๐„๐’ | ๐†๐‹๐ˆ๐“๐‚๐‡ ๐–๐Ž๐‘๐‹๐ƒ๐๐”๐ˆ๐‹๐ƒ๐ˆ๐๐† | ๐–๐ˆ๐’๐‡ ๐‹๐ˆ๐’๐“ | ๐๐‘๐Ž๐Œ๐Ž | ๐Œ๐”๐
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โžค ๐ƒ๐ˆ๐’๐‚๐‹๐€๐ˆ๐Œ๐„๐‘: Triggering content ahead, including depictions of violence, murder, death, discussion of religion & spirituality, and psychological themes. Reader discretion is advised.
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chounaifu ยท 26 days
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it's an easy detour to take after the shift, one archer has done countless times before. just as easy as it is to enter proton's apartment with his own key - no need to cause extra commotion with a knock or the doorbell. the text he'd sent earlier about stopping by is sufficient enough. he briefly greets the golbat hanging from the clothing rack in the hallway, the houndoom beside him already nudging open the bedroom door and settling himself next to the man on the bed, the whip-like tail wagging furiously.
" i made some kimbap and kimchi stew. not entirely sure of the latter, though. i just found the recipe, " the words are kept on whisper level, the two big containers of food placed onto the nightstand. " there's quite a lot but, well, heat it up when you feel better, " he sits down on the edge of the bed with a slow exhale. archer has noticed himself going overboard with the cooking during these days. the stress control methods are questionable at best. " i can leave him and go if you want to be alone, " he nods briefly towards the houndoom. " your call. "
Sleep.
That was the only thing Proton could do on days like this. His flare ups were unpredictable in nature, as was the syndrome. On his best days, nobody was able to tell that the executive was ill. On his worst ones, an ignorant onlooker would believe that the man was on his death bed. He was far from clinging to life though-- once the worst of the symptoms retreated, Proton would be well enough to bounce back, as if nothing were wrong.
Because of his deep sleep, he hadn't bothered to properly inform anybody that he would not be going into work. Archer in particular was well aware of how Proton functioned. There was no reason for the battered and exhausted executive to call, or even send a message to anybody; not seeing him at work meant that he needed to be home. Unfortunately, this also meant that Proton had never read the text that his partner had sent him.
He's stirred awake by the sound of food being set on his nightstand. His eyes flutter open, pale and gray due to the worst of Fragmentation Syndrome's symptoms still manifesting. It takes a moment for him to process what was happening-- once the weight of two bodies on his bed is registered, Proton takes in a breathe, sighs, and winces at the ringing between his ears.
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"Can't move," he grumbles, hating to admit such a thing. Heating up the generous meal would be impossible on his own. Even so, he grits his teeth, stubborn in his resolve to show that he wasn't a useless pile of pixels. Pushing his hand out from his blankets makes his body feel like he trying to swim through quick sand, but he uses the inkling of strength he has to put his hand on the Houndoom's head.
The television across his bed has been nothing but static and irritating, scratchy sounds all day. Strangely, now that there are two more presences in the room, it seems to. . . Purposefully dull.
"Please stay."
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chounaifu ยท 1 month
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๐Ÿ’‹๐Ÿ’‹๐Ÿ’‹ "Come to me. I can be romantic."
Recommend romantic candidates for my muses and see their reaction! || @haematophiliac
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" Oh Jax I KNEEEโ–’โ–’โ–’๐™ด๐™ด๐š†๐š†๐š†๐š†๐š†๐š†WWWWW you liked me. How COULDN'T YOU?! We're practically made of the same bones and stuff! Now THAT'S romantic, don't you think? C'mere--"
Condemned to a life of computer viruses, isn't he lucky?
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