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teddyhoneybear · 3 days
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🩷𝓔𝓵𝓪𝓲𝓷 𝓶𝓲𝓷𝓭𝓲𝓷𝓰 𝓱𝓮𝓻 𝓸𝔀𝓷 𝓫𝓾𝓼𝓲𝓷𝓮𝓼𝓼 - 𝓜𝓸𝓭𝓮𝓻𝓷 𝓐𝓤 🩷
(ʟɪᴋᴇ ᴛʜɪꜱ ᴇɴᴛɪʀᴇ ꜰᴀɴᴅᴏᴍ ꜱʜᴏᴜʟᴅ)
🕊 In honor of those who have fallen (digital artists caught in the middle of ship wars) 🕊
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one-sadistic-bitch · 10 months
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feniksido · 3 months
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"We are brilliant." "..."
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great-keykeeper · 1 year
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just boys being cuties
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scarlightglimmer · 10 months
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big fan of their little interaction in the new episode
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sugarsh0ts · 1 year
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artist credit: Clarice Tudor
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waiting-so-long · 3 months
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Home
Established 141 x Reader
Summary - Based on the request by @cherryofdeath - After a shitty and disappointing work week your boys show you that you’re loved and appreciated.
Warnings - 18+ Minors please leave, in the most serious way possible. Smut. Fingering. Oral Fem receiving. These men worship you, okay? But there’s no p in v or nothing. Hints of bottom Johnny(because he’s a bottom unless he’s alone with you) Dom John. Uhhh it’s probably not as sexy as you think it will be. I don’t recommend falling asleep in the bath. Ever.
A/N - The biggest of bear hugs to @cherryofdeath 🧸 thank you so much for the request, love! This was so much fun to write, and I’m highly jealous of this fake version of me. I kinda see this as the same dynamic as Comfortable Company, just like way down the line.
———
“-and I’m just so tired of it!” You finish as Gaz leads you through the door with a hand on the small of your back. Sniffling, you wipe your eyes, seeing Price standing frozen at the stove, Simon and Johnny looking at you from where they lay cuddled on the couch. You look to your toes, shoulders falling in your embarrassment.
“What’s goin’ on?” Ghost says, and you hear rustling as he pulls the blanket off of the two of them. It’s just a few seconds before you’re enveloped in his strong arms, as he looks at Kyle for answers. You immediately breathe him in. Your protection, your comfort. Simon.
You shrug in his hold, and peaking up at Kyle to speak for you.
“That big meeting was today, right?” He waits as your other three partners nod, John wiping his hands on a dish towel, Soap wrapping his arm around Kyle’s waist. “Well, after everything, all of the late nights, her bringing work home, picking up all of the slack from her entire department, her asshole boss gave the promotion to that fucking weirdo we met at the Christmas party.” His frustration on your behalf leaking from his voice.
Soap scoffs, “The one with the thing for lizards?”
“That’s the one.” You mumble into Ghost chest, wrapping your arms tighter around him.
“Jesus.”
It would be satisfying to hear it put that way - hear it be justified - if it didn’t sting so damn bad. You’ve worked there twice as long, and he doesn’t put in even half the effort you do. You sniffle again, but you feel Simon tighten his hold, and someone else come beside him to stroke your head. Price. You sigh. He always has some magic way to settle you just with even just his presence.
“‘M sorry, love.” He kisses your crown. “But c’mon, let’s get some food in you. I made your favorite.” He didn’t add that it was intended as a celebratory meal, not a consolation.
You finally pull away after one last squeeze, and let them lead you to the table, where Johnny pulled a chair out for you. He immediately starts trying to rub the tension from your shoulders, and places a kiss to your neck. You melt into his touch, a deep exhale falling from your lips.
“We’ve got all weekend to help ye forget about those bastards, love.” You feel him smile against your skin, “All you gotta remember is our names, aye?” That gets a tiny laugh out of you, as he always does, but still, you reach back to flick his ear.
Kyle squats down in front of you, hands smoothing down your legs, before slipping your highheels off your feet, while Simon starts pouring drinks, and Price begins plating everyone’s food.
“He’s right, though, babe. Don’t waste any time thinking about them until Monday.” He places a kiss to your ankle as he massages your feet through your pantyhose.
You feel the tears threatening to spill over your lashes again, your lips pulling down.
“I just don’t know why I’m not good enough. Been tryin’ so hard.” Crossing your arms over your chest, you turn away from Gaz as he stands, making room for John and Simon to set the dishes down.
Simon pulls your arms open, bringing your hand to his mouth, placing a few quick kisses to your knuckles. He bends at the waist, forcing you to look at him when he speaks.
“Won’t hear another word of it, understand? Want us to go scare ‘em?” He raises his eyebrows, teasing, but there’s a frightening glimmer of truth in his eyes. It’s tempting, knowing with just one word from you they’d all go to defend what little pride you have left.
“Easy. Let’s just focus on getting you all fed.” Price squeezes the side of Ghost’s neck, encouraging him to take a seat.
You all enjoy the meal as usual, easy conversation, light banter, a million ‘thank you’s for John’s talent in the kitchen. But it doesn’t pass any of your boys’ notice that you’re quieter than usual, poking around at your plate, only speaking when spoken to. They hate it. You slave for this company, for your boss, and not once have you been properly thanked. Simon really wasn’t kidding about scaring them. Gaz had half a mind to do the same when he first picked you up.
But Johnny was right. They have all weekend to make you feel better, make you forget. After dinner, they quickly sent you off to change, Gaz insisted on helping you, while the rest tidied up.
“Kyle…” you breathe, head lolling to the side to give him better access, hands carding through his curls. ‘Helping’, as it turns out, is your back against the wall as he leaves hot opened-mouth kisses across your neck, your collarbone.
“Shh… it’s okay, I’m right here, lovey. Always gonna take care of you.” He nibbles your ear, before sliding his hands from your chest, down to your waist, your hips, wrapping around your ass to unzip your skirt. He guides it down your legs, helping you step out as he kneels in front of you. He continues to kiss your stomach as he removes your pantyhose, as well.
The door opens, and you see Johnny lean against the frame with a smirk on his face.
He shouts down the hall, “Sneaky bastard started without us!” And it’s not even a few seconds later that John and Simon push through the door. A small part of your brain finds the comedy in their timing, but it’s overwhelmed by Soap removing your shirt, hands immediately cupping your clothed breast, as he kisses you. You moan into the kiss, his tongue hot against yours, when you feel a third set of hands on you, one wrapping around your throat, the other unfastening your bra.
“So good for us, our best girl,” Simon tells you as he slides the straps down your arms. You whine, hips grinding against Kyle’s face as he mouths over your underwear. You should feel exposed, standing clad only in your panties, while the rest of them are fully dressed. But you just feel safe, loved, and adored by these men who you know have dedicated their lives to you and each other. You pull Johnny away, guiding him to leave marks along your chest, your eyes searching for Price. He’s sat in the chair across the room, palming the bulge in his pants as he watches you all. You reach a hand out to him, pouting.
He smiles, waving a hand as he stands. “Off. Wanna see her.” The other three men grumble their complaints, but obey their captain, standing straight, hands to themselves. You huff at the loss of contact, just briefly. John moves to hold your face in both hands, thumbs brushing over your cheeks.
“You okay, love?” His eyes scanning your face, taking note of your swollen lips, and your eyes that are still just a bit red from your tears.
You nod, wide-eyed as you look up at him, “Yes, sir.”
“Good. You know we love you? You want us to make you feel better?” You’ve already almost forgotten what you were so upset about. Almost.
Another desperate nod, “I do. Please, John.”
Finally, his lips meet yours. The kiss itself more gentle than Johnny’s, but the roughness of his beard, and the callouses on his warm hands scratch wonderfully against your skin. You tug at his shirt, and he removes it before kissing you again. His hands begin slowly mapping every curve, fold, and sharp line on your body -as if he doesn’t have it all memorized by heart. He grips your thighs, mouth never leaving yours, and hoists you up, pulling your legs around his waist.
John sets you on the bed, settling in behind you, your back to his chest, kissing along your shoulders as he gives his boys the go ahead. Instantly they’re all back on you - Johnny kissing up your legs, slowly, nipping at your skin before soothing it with his tongue. Simon comes to your right, pulling you by the jaw to kiss him as he kneads at one of your tits, pinching the sensitive bud, while Gaz works the other into his mouth. Your head feels fuzzy, and no matter how long you’ve been with them you’ll never be used to being their sole focus. It’s too much. It’s not enough.
As if he can read your mind, Price brushes his hand through your hair, tugging just at the base of your neck, pulling you back from Simon.
“Tell us what you need.”
They all pause at the sound of his demand, but they’re all patiently waiting on your orders.
Trying to catch your breath, you reply quietly, “I want Johnny.” Soap grins, mouth moving to suck a mark into your thigh, his fingers eagerly tugging at the waistband on your underwear. Ghost and Gaz direct their attention back to your chest, each of them leaving their own marks on your skin.
“Want him to do what, love?”
You gasp as Price pulls your hair again, harder than before after you pause.
“Want him to… ah-want him to eat me out. Please, sir.” Soap continued to bite at you, while pulling your panties down.
“You know I love to taste ye, bon. Could never get enough ‘a this cunt.” You moan at his words, hips canting toward where he places soft kisses to your lips. It’s not enough.
“Johnny, baby, please!” The moment the whine falls from your lips, John removes his hand from your hair, reaching to grab Soap’s instead, harshly pulling his face up to look at him, mouth open slightly, eyes alight with desire. He’s fucking gorgeous. He’s yours.
“Stop teasing our girl,” the captain’s voice has a low gravel that vibrates through his chest. “Go on, sweet boy. Do what she asked.” Both you and Johnny groan as Price shoves his face into your pussy, causing his nose to brush against your clit. Johnny flattens his tongue, lapping up all you have to give him.
You cry out, reaching for Gaz, fumbling with his belt. But he stops you with a firm grip on your wrist, lips brushing against yours when he speaks.
“Don’t worry about it, sweetheart. Just focus on Johnny. Isn’t he being so good for you?” Soap whines at the praise, doubling down on his efforts, sucking on your clit, pushing two fingers inside you. Gaz bites your bottom lip, sucking it into his mouth and kissing it better. John’s hand wraps around your throat, firm but gentle.
“We love you so much. So good for us.” Simon whispers praises to you, pulling your leg close to your chest, giving Soap more room.
You let your head fall back against John’s chest, let yourself get lost in the feeling of your partners touching you, loving on you.
You finish with a loud moan, pulling Soap’s hair, holding him close to your cunt as he works you through your orgasm, his fingers fucking into you as you clamp down on him. You hear praises from every direction, some meant for you, others intended for the man between your legs.
“Good girl, let us hear you, sweetheart.”
“Such a sweet boy, show her how much we love her, Johnny.”
“So good for us, so beautiful, the both of you.”
Chest heaving and overwhelmed, you pull Johnny’s hair again, guiding him up your body, until you can taste yourself on his tongue. It’s intoxicating, the mix of your slick and the familiar taste of his spit. You think you could die here - let yourself be suffocated, ruined, damned by these men. You’d be blessed if this sin was the closest to heaven you’ll ever get.
Johnny rolls off of you, and you just lay there, limp, in your lovers’ arms. Usually, you’d be begging them for more, you’d be pulling on their clothes, if they had any left on, begging for someone, any one of them, to fill you, fuck you, claim you. But just one orgasm tonight, and you’ve turned to mush. Mental exhaustion catching up to you, turning your eyelids heavy.
“You okay, love?” Kyle’s voice is hushed as he strokes soft patterns on your arm.
“Jus’ sleepy.” You close your eyes again, sliding down to rest your head on John’s lap.
“‘M gonna run her a bath.” You hear Ghost whisper, as a blanket is pulled over you replacing his body heat.
“Thank you, Simon,” Price pulls him into a quick kiss before sending him on his way.
A few moments pass, and you’re in that hazy, not quite asleep but definitely not awake state. You feel the bed shift, as Johnny and Kyle leave. Simon comes to pick you up, and you immediately curl into his embrace as you come to.
He gently sets you in the tub, a rolled up towel placed behind your head as a pillow. You expected him to leave you to wash yourself, but when you try to sit up he pushes you down with a soft hand on your shoulder.
“Just rest f’me, love. Lemme take care of you.” He kissed you, tender, and loving, guiding you to lay back down. He shampooed your hair, worked your conditioner in it, and pinned it up with one of your clips, before washing your body with gentle hands.
Knowing that you’re safe under his watch, you drift to sleep as he whispered sweet words of praise and adoration into your ear.
When you wake, you’re dry and warm, in a shirt that’s way too big and smells like home, surrounded in the bed by the men you love.
———
@buckysjuicyplums you said you want to be tagged in all poly 141 stuff, right??
A/N 2.0 - I feel like I suck at smut lol sorry if it’s awful
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alwaysserving · 30 days
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Sorry.. someone ask for an absolutely magnifent, glorious ass??
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lovesickeros · 4 months
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× even the gods bleed [ pt 3 ]
× info [ cult au + imposter au + neuvillette + wriothesley + furina ] × warnings [ none ] × word count [ 1.9k ] × previous [ 1 ] [ 2 ]
Wriothesley was not a man of superstition. He did not kneel at the altars until his knees bled, he did not pray until his voice gave out– he did not, contrary to popular belief, suffer divine punishment for his apparent lack of respect.
After all, what Divine would look so deep beneath the waves just for a glimpse of the sinners that inhabit it?
Not them, evidently.
He hadn't slept in the past four days, though. There was a heavy air of something where ever he walked– it followed him like a thick fog, lingering and choking him until it dragged him to his knees like a chain. His thoughts inevitably linger on the striking, extravagant letter so conveniently adorning his desk at the fortress– the broken wax seal, the letter tucked into his pocket.
He'd recognize the seal of the Iudex any day. Wasn't often he spoke to him– but the shaky, distorted words hastily etched into the paper made him pause. Neuvillette always had a steady hand– elegant, flowing script that him of flowing water.
It had kept him up for days.
The implications were..haunting. He'd poured over the letter for hours, illuminated only by faint light of his desk lamp. Yet no matter how many times he tries to see what must be hidden beneath the ink, the paper itself even, he finds nothing but the shaky script of a request that sends a bolt of pure frost through his veins.
He noticed, of course, the odd goings on of Fontaine. He'd heard vague whispers of the Divine's hunt for the imposter– he'd heard, too, of the ceaseless rain pelting Fontaine until even he wondered if the nation would finally sink beneath the waves.
It didn't, though. And that only made it all the more odd. Days of constant rain, just for it to stop suddenly..he tugged his coat tighter around him, throwing up the hood of the cloak clasped even tighter over it with a grunt as he leaned around the corner of the alleyway.
He didn't believe in superstition, but this was too hard to ignore as a simple weather anomaly.
Maybe that was why he ignored his gut– he knew that this was probably a trap, at the very least it was suspicious. But damn it, he couldn't ignore the instinct to follow the only lead he had.
His boots clicked against the rain stricken streets as he stalked through the shadows, mindful of the clinking of machine patrols just a few streets away. Yet every step felt heavier then the last as he took a long, good look at the Palais Mermonia. He almost considered bringing out his gauntlets, but he thought better of it– if it came down to it, he needed information. And he would need whoever was waiting for him alive for that– the dead don't speak and all that.
The letter's directions led him in a..rather roundabout entrance to a secluded room, evidently, as he lifted his hand and quietly knocked against the door. Two rapid knocks, pause, another knock, pause, four knocks. It doesn't take long until he hears the latch of the door unlock.
The leather of his gloves creaks as he clenches his fists, adjusting his stance. He's ready for a fight, if he must, but as the door quietly slides open he feel the weight on his shoulders relax slightly– the familiar, sharp features of Neuvillette meets him. He almost reflexively smiles at the way his pupils turn into thin slits, a momentary surprise that he quickly hides well behind a cough and the creak of the door as he pulls it open fully.
"Wriothesley. I see my letter has found you well. Please, come in." Polite as ever, Neuvillette steps aside to let him in, but he can see the exhaustion lining his features– the bags under his eyes aren't as well hidden as he thinks, at least to him. "Bit odd to be inviting me all the way out here in the middle of the night, don't you think?"
His tone is smooth as he steps into the room, brushing down his hood and glancing at Neuvillette over his shoulder, watching as he shuts and locks the door behind him.
"I apologize for the..less then ideal circumstances, but I'm certain you will understand when you see for yourself." He wants to retort, but the Iudex beats him to it, vaguely motioning to the room behind him. An invitation– but he wonders if it's worth taking.
His gut says no, but he's feeling a little risky today, he supposes.
He turns back slowly, barely able to make out the two figures he'd missed on the first glance on the other side of the room– though it's hard to mistake the flourish of the Hydro Archon, even in the dark. It's the other figure that makes the breath hitch in his throat, though.
Or maybe, more accurately, it freezes. So does his blood, his whole body even, locked in stasis for a long, tense moment– he can't see them clearly, but his instincts are going haywire. He can feel his vision almost rattle where it rests against his left shoulder, cold leaking through the layers of clothes and into his skin until he has to fight to suppress a shiver.
He'd always fancied himself the hunter– he was the one who dealt with unsavory folks, in the end. But he felt like a rabbit pinned beneath the crosshairs of a gun this time. He could almost feel the teeth of the bear trap snapping shut around him, crushing bone and flesh beneath cold metal.
For a long moment he thinks he feels fear.
And with a sharp click and a burst of light, it's gone and he takes a raspy, choked breath as he blinks away the blurriness in his vision, taking in the room illuminated by the lamp.
He's not sure what he sees is better, though.
Because his body knows that their Divinity is as real as the blood running through his veins.
So why do they remind him so much of himself? Why does he see the look of the boy who died in a pool of blood not his own in them?
It is a sick, cruel kind of familiar.
Wriothesley didn't believe in superstition– but that was born of the unknown. He knew, now. He could reach out and touch the truth with his own two hands.
The throne of the world was a lie.
The thing sitting on it bled red. And if it bled, it could die.
He clenched his fists tighter– and released, letting his shoulders slump with a huff and a half hearted chuckle. "I wasn't expecting you to be in possession of a wanted criminal when you sent me that letter." He could see the gears whirring in their heads, the subtle dampness in the air reminding him just how delicate a situation it truly was.
He wasn't particularly inclined to getting blasted by a jet of water today.
"Relax, I'm not going to spill to anyone else. Seriously– don't get my jacket wet. It's expensive and a nightmare to dry." His lips quirk into a half smile, but it twists into something almost genuine at the laugh covered up by a cough he hears from the Divine. Bingo.
"It's fine, Neuvillette. Let him go." Their voice is like honey dripping from their lips, and he has to close his jaw with his hand before they can see the way it dropped in his surprise. "Of course, most Divine. My apologies." He relaxes at the sharp click of his heels as he joins them on the bed, his posture far more relaxed then he's ever seen. The Hydro Archon, much to his confusion and amusement, is far too invested in playing with their hair to pay much attention to him now that things have calmed, evidently.
Huh.
They seemed pretty cozy about it, he noted. He guesses they three of them had some time to get acquainted.
"So..who's going to explain what the hell is going on?" He probed, crossing his arms over his chest and watching the three carefully– they all looked tired, but even through the exhaustion neither seemed inclined to stray too far from the Divine. "And what exactly your plan is? You can't keep hiding them here forever. Someone will sniff them out sooner or later."
"We are aware," Neuvillette interjects, lips pursed into a thin line and his thin brows furrowed. "But as I'm sure you've noticed, the hunt for the..forgive me, most Divine, but the hunt for the alleged imposter is still at it's peak."
He grumbles in acknowledgment, hanging up his cloak by the door and sliding out of his heavy coat, resting it over the back of a nearby chair. "Hm. Suppose that's why the patrols are so common now a days."
"I'm afraid so. As you can imagine, we cannot simply ask them to..stop the search. It would draw unwanted attention and suspicion. The Divine would be found immediately if we tried to bring them out of the city at the moment." Neuvillette added, looking proper and elegant, despite the circumstances– even in the face of the Divine and the Archon turning on him and tugging his hair into intricate braids. "So I hope you understand that it was a great risk to send you that letter."
He rubs his chin, huffing in amusement– a solid plan, maybe, but his power didn't extend too far out of the Fortress. He had his connections, sure, but what use were they when he had to get the, uh, "imposter" out of Fontaine? Smuggling them out wouldn't be easy, and then there's the point of where to take them they'd have to contend with.
"Yeah, yeah– I get it. But it's not like I can just smuggle them out or keep them in the fortress. Even if we got them out of the city, we'd have to find somewhere to bunker down, and if someone spots any of us lingering there.." Archons, what a mess he'd gotten himself into. He was really looking forward to the next time he could kick his feet up with a cup of tea.
"I understand. I have already made plans, in fact." Neuvillette hesitates, and he can feel the temperature drops a few degrees. "I..cannot share them in full at the moment, but it is not for a lack of trust." Neuvillette reasoned, hands folded neatly in his lap– not that it hid the way they shook slightly. He wanted to ask, but he thought better of it.
"Eh, I don't hold it against you. The walls have ears, even up here." He deflected, running a hand through his hair. He really hoped Sigewinne wouldn't ask too much when he gets back. "I trust your judgment." He hesitates for a long moment, pulling out a simple, neatly folded letter of his own.
"Memorize the code words, then burn it. I'll be waiting for your next letter." He murmurs, plucking his coat and cloak and tugging them back on one after another, shuffling back over to the latched door. He hesitates again, his hand lingering on the door.
"I just hope your plan is worth the risk, Neuvillette."
He leaves before he can respond, the harsh click of the door ringing in his ears even as he steps back into the shadows of the night.
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nanaslutt · 4 months
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Am I writing a Fem!Nurse!Geto x reader x Doctor!Gojo fic rn????????? MAAAYYYBBEEEEEE
BISEXUALS AND THOSE ALIKE WE RIDE‼️
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boywhatintheheck · 6 months
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Their forehead are ALMOST touching. Close enough
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michsmeesh · 7 months
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this was totally just a painting study and not an excuse to draw john in a red silk dress. nope.
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degenerateshinji · 1 month
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a moment of solitude
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binvibin · 1 month
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barty and evan are the best friends in the sitcom that are gay for each other but the writers dont acknowledge it
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weepinglilvessel · 8 months
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1.5k Special
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That took a while but I FINALLY GOT IT DONE! Thank you to those who submitted (cough sacrificed) their Suns to me! Appreciate it, now enjoy (•̀ᴗ•́)و
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(The original design of Suns)
Others below the cut:
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@toxictoxicities @csavii
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@zyekno (me on right)
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@t-rexdescendant @therotconsumed
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@spotsupblaze @lemon-ve-ghost
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@kakyogay @slugcats-and-ghosts
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@pookapufferfish @pansear-doodles
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@creaturevoiddweller @echothedragon
YAY ( my hands died)
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iheartmangomonster · 3 months
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all creepypasta ocs are canon because i said so. now go
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