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About Deviant Official Beta Tester toxic--sunriseFemale/United States Groups :iconthezombiecollective: TheZombieCollective
We want to eat you.
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Deviant for 10 Years
3 Month Core Membership
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Literature
to terms
i’m going to need
you, to come to terms
with death, in all your
complexities, with a history
of histories shoved in
briefcases and stored in
mildewed boxes, but not
in your yellowed, tattered
memories,
i am not
the one
sent to save you
it doesn’t mean i won’t try
[but] i
[make no]
promise(s)
promises aren't much more
than words tied in knots,
hangman's rope for those who wish to fly;
allow me to clip the wings
you love so dear, leave all you've forgotten here,
ashes on barren soil
i will not accept regrets, tears
like oceans, despite all tidal
forces, the ebb mocking the
flow, stealing every scrap
of humanity, of dignity
i will not accept your refusal
to stand
to believe, to convince, to
do nothing but stand by the side
as day and night pass you by;
stones picked and placed
on your final ambition, satin and lace
to follow into eternity, to forget
forget, forget, forgive
you hear through honey, harmonies
blurring in waves, until
i realize it’s pebbles through
a s
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:icontoxic--sunrise:toxic--sunrise 9 4
Literature
FFM6: Words and Phrases
Joker threw himself to the ground, cursing roundly. If he could remember his word, he could be terrible. No, he would be goddamn delightful to anyone within a ten mile radius. He would be able to get anyone to do something for a chance at a prize, even if the odds were stacked against them. He, the holder of both the Dice of Chance and the Cards of Fate, had the power to be fantastic.
That was, if he could remember the goddamn word.
Deceit was ignoring him, plucking weeds from the dirt and feeding them directly to a hybrid of sorts that sat beside her. Some sort of fire lynx with wings didn't take it's eyes off of him. As if Joker would be the next meal.
"Deceit."
She ignored him.
"Deceit your overgrown cat is staring at me."
Discarded grasses were given to the hybrid. It did not look away from Joker.
"Deceit seriously that bag of fluff is staring at me, make it stop," He grumbled. He then rolled onto his back, spreading out his arms. Joker was bored; he needed something fun. Something
:icontoxic--sunrise:toxic--sunrise
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Literature
FFM 5: Questions, Questions, Questions
Brendan grumbled, tapping his foot on the ground. He stared directly at the one way window in front of his table. At least, he assumed it was a one way window, and he was the wrong side of it. Instead, it was a mirror showing his ruffled hair, and a flannel covered with bits of feathers.
The officer had left 23 minutes and 6 seconds ago, by his count, and Brendan hated waiting. He hated it. And he had no idea where Cameron was. His brother belonged at his side, not vanished into wherever he may have been.
He should have been here, he should have been here, he should have been there.
Brendan ground his teeth unhappily. There was a salty sand sort of taste on his tongue, and he couldn't seem to escape it.
Twenty four and thirty, twenty four and thirty one, twenty four and thirty two-
The door opened and the sound of boots on concrete made him sit up straighter. It wasn't an officer.
"Brendan."
"Deceit." It was a greeting, barely, and more a question.
She held up the keys to his cuffs. "D
:icontoxic--sunrise:toxic--sunrise
:icontoxic--sunrise:toxic--sunrise 0 1
Literature
FFM4: Bad Choices
Deceit marched into Osiris' office, angry and averting her gaze from the god. He choked on his coffee, and applied a glamour - least he kill the mortal.
"What are you doing here." He asked, surprised.
"Why the fuck did you allow someone to collect a soul that could not be gifted." Deceit practically vibrated with anger. "Jonathan collected a soul that was not for sale, and processed it." She spat. "You are going to find it."
He looked at her. She still wouldn't look at him - perhaps for some sort of self preservation. Osiris wasn't sure.
"Who was sold?"
"Merci." Deceit's foot began tapping, as she'd stopped pacing. It seemed to bother her more, not moving. "A minor who doesn't have control of her soul for several more years."
"Oh dear." Osiris stood, summoning a Prince of Hell to fetch the young Cayhadi soul from whichever canister it had been placed for holding. "What did she sell it for this time?"
"It's almost 38 degrees Celsius." Deceit huffed. "So my brilliant sister sold it for a
:icontoxic--sunrise:toxic--sunrise
:icontoxic--sunrise:toxic--sunrise 2 1
Literature
FFM3: Pollen Counts
Docerus grumbled, shoving bricks of sod down in an organized manner, trying to erase signs of chases and mild chaos. The party had left. He had chased hobgoblins back to the external exit of the basement, and locked them in. Then, for spite, he had buried the door in various flower pots.
The Dendrobium had burped bubbles in Docerus' face for his trouble. He grumbled. Plants were the worst.
The Lady of the house had reversed the various summons performed by the young Lady of the house. There were no traces left, aside from battered grass starters and tuffs of fur where it shouldn't be. She had taken Alyves for medical attention, as he'd sported a very solid set of bite marks.
Leaving Docerus, her loyal grounds keeper, to clean up the rest of the nightmare. The centaur grumbled, going about his tasks. He could see the young charge still working to place scrap bricks around the tiny shed set aside for his use. He frowned.
There was a ditch. Docerus was very certain that there was no such
:icontoxic--sunrise:toxic--sunrise
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Literature
FFM2: Help Wanted Ads
Myth slipped out the open window, landing with only a mild inconvenience after a six story drop. With an easy roll, he was up again and ignoring the possibly bruised or broken ribs under his thick cloak, and briskly headed in the opposite direction of sirens, jumping a fence in the process, and cutting through a couple alleys.
He was going to think better of taking jobs posted on the internet, oh yes. Anonymous payments wired to his account from accounts that didn't exist, asking for him to break into the home of a Senator for Hell's version of a grand council. Elected grand council. Shoved in his side, up against his aching ribs, was a little black book of strange glyphs that would howl like the wind, spitting sand whenever the book was opened.
Really, it was a strange book that he didn't seem to be very comfortable holding very closely. Already, his shoes were filled with sand in an area of cobblestone streets and somewhat maintained brick alleys. Myth wasn't sure when he'd last seen
:icontoxic--sunrise:toxic--sunrise
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Literature
FFM1 : Summoning
Deceit came to a full halt, having stepped outside at the worst time possible. There was more chaos happening in the back yard than she could account for. Plants were hiccuping bubbles and coughing a weird combination of glitter and confetti. The hobgoblins had escaped their basement dwellings, and struck by Alice - each of them wore a tiny suit in various pastel colors. They were slamming upon or together against trash can lids, barrels and... a sewer pipe? Deceit was unsure, however that was the least of her concerns.
There was a few large cats currently chasing Alyves, his hooves cutting into freshly laid sod as he tried to evade the predators. Docerus was right behind them, screeching words of what Deceit could only explain as some weird love child of Gaelic and Greek. His hooves dug into the ground even deeper than Alyves, ruining the already maimed sod.
Deceit groaned. She was going to have to replace everything, again. Someone was going to have to pay for that.
She spied Damon,
:icontoxic--sunrise:toxic--sunrise
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Random Favourites

C: JadeHakai by AnaLuizaCG C: JadeHakai :iconanaluizacg:AnaLuizaCG 361 12
Literature
routine
don't let the mirror catch
you staring. she doesn't like
to be seen.
scrub at your hands until
the water runs red but you
can't feel clean.
:iconfiercestrawberry:fiercestrawberry
:iconfiercestrawberry:fiercestrawberry 10 6
Literature
summertide
the trees reflect the sunset olive-green-orange.
my new sneakers are too big for my feet, clair de lune girl
in sweet summer twilights— i was told once 
i looked how honey tastes in the back of your throat, i taste 
sunshine
when i think of kissing you
:iconcalliopen:calliopen
:iconcalliopen:calliopen 26 14
Literature
grounded
the trees never leave -
though the roots twist and turn
in the dirt, far below every foot,
they stay, sometimes, even through
the rampage of a tornado.
I am a tree for you.
:icon0hgravity:0hgravity
:icon0hgravity:0hgravity 6 0
Literature
Meditation
You sulk with the trees
and the deer, sinking
unwanted memories
into dusty shot glasses.
:iconhaphazardmelody:haphazardmelody
:iconhaphazardmelody:haphazardmelody 7 2
Literature
Ravages of Time
My eyes were the first to go. They'd been deteriorating since my mid thirties, and after a bacterial infection in my early forties I couldn't focus on anything anymore.
I had coverage, so I had them replaced.
I remember the change was immediate and incredible; I could see things close to me with incomprehensible fidelity, and see things miles away with striking clarity. I could make out things of interest that I couldn't easily get to, at least not in any reasonable amount of time.
So I had them replace my legs too.
There was no more forgetting why I was walking towards some far-off things that had caught my eye, I could sprint there in almost no time without even getting winded. I ran everywhere, exploring, it was a new dawn of discovery.
It was on one such exploration that I lost my footing and fell, tumbling in a flailing jumble of limbs across the gravel and glasphalt, breaking both my arms.
It was good that I had coverage.
It would have taken months for my bones to knit, and for t
:iconSRSmith:SRSmith
:iconsrsmith:SRSmith 12 24
Literature
olivia
and her head-halo --
the light through the rafters
hugging the curves of her low-flying
strays, flyaways
i know she soars
i’ve seen eyes-closed dances
on the wooden floor
the disco can’t stop this
grounded pilot and the
eyelash resting between
constellations
      (she refuses to make a wish
      as it is swept into the cosmos)
her arms and legs are
crossed but she isn’t
      strength smiles easily on her
gentle steel wings don’t flap but
float, and olivia your black-hole hair
is generous with the light it leaves behind
      staining the sun and
             shimmering
:iconand-speak:and-speak
:iconand-speak:and-speak 22 12
Literature
the dead sea
I need the moon, again.
I need the ache of hope-
the dash of steel, blueing in a haze
of scathefire, as it rises full
piercing any cloud that dares.
I need to be pulled back to life,
dragged roughly over the surfaces
of day to day
until I feel sand and gravel giving way
to something more, that spark of wanting
to explore.
I need the moon, again
because I am an ocean waiting.
:iconnawkaman:nawkaman
:iconnawkaman:nawkaman 13 11
Literature
the ocean swallows a drop
I wait hard for you,
  driving well below the drunken sea.
   My eyes skim the distance of your skin
(like leaflets, pearled under
   by a soft magnetic pull)
and we waver on
   toward some untold shoulder;
toward so many no-ones,
    and every one alike.
:iconnawkaman:nawkaman
:iconnawkaman:nawkaman 6 4
Literature
dearly beloved
it died in the house.
the yells and bangs
have stopped 
ricocheting -
the windows are shuddered
shadows have settled
in the corners; 
quiet is resting
on the window sills.
the living room is only a room
with a bundled up
ribbon from the bridal shower
with a shriveled popcorn
cast out in a thrill from the horror film.
when hands stop being held
in an interlocking pattern
and tongues stop searching 
for another's
and lips only find cheeks,
when conversations dwindle
to mutters and shrugs
it is time to pronounce
the end, gather the flowers
toss the dirt
lower
lower
lower
:icon0hgravity:0hgravity
:icon0hgravity:0hgravity 8 7
Literature
my 3 am
She haunts me. Floats through the walls I've built over the years as quiet and loud as a chill. Sometimes I fall asleep thinking about how it used to be between us. There is an ache so deep it rivals the sea and space. I am the deep diver; I have entered the submarine and am immersed in an inky sad sweetness. She is there and she isn't reaching for me but she is going away from me, sighing through the maze of sulcae and seaweed.
She is still alive. We will talk from time to time. In the in-between I will have cast an amnesic spell upon myself; torn the diving suit to shreds and tanked the submarine but she will call upon me, awakening memories I had struggled to set into a coma. She returns with a new way to embark into the dark house hosting her ghost. 
The love could have been real, beating there in the basement. I refuse to let go of this possibility and her phantom self uses this to unravel me. Her eyes harbor a fugitive, a dangerous thing. I have never killed anyone but she w
:icon0hgravity:0hgravity
:icon0hgravity:0hgravity 9 7
Linearts by vulpez-vulpez Linearts :iconvulpez-vulpez:vulpez-vulpez 383 40 Puppy Lines by vulpez-vulpez Puppy Lines :iconvulpez-vulpez:vulpez-vulpez 918 87 Deer lineart by vulpez-vulpez Deer lineart :iconvulpez-vulpez:vulpez-vulpez 1,362 181 OMG SHOCK. by KimRaiFan OMG SHOCK. :iconkimraifan:KimRaiFan 247 74
Literature
That time of the year
31-05-2017
"Are you ok?"
she asked
"Yeah,"
I answered
"No, but really?"
I was surprised by her concern.
"Everything hurts... again."
Imagine we were on a cruise ship
with all the others
Imagine it was the end of the school year
when everyone is exhausted and
I slowly start realising that
it's been too big of a deal
I've been whipping myself like
spoiled rich people whipped their horses
back in the 20th century and before
Now all there is left is lethargy
and sometimes,
I imagine that I would fall asleep in front of
all of them
So that everyone would see
how tired I am
But what would be the point of that anyway?
I just think I gotta
let go somehow
seek help maybe
Maybe I should stop gorging my skin
to root out imperfections
that make my skin even worse if I
touch them
Maybe I should stop pretending that
applying body lotion would fix
all these wounds and scars I've gathered
Maybe I should just sleep for two months and
be devoid of passion once more
to be at peace
But where's the
:iconDeeryDeerth:DeeryDeerth
:icondeerydeerth:DeeryDeerth 2 2
Everything and anything, plus the stuff between.

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Anonymous:iconkazushin14::iconseriousmess::iconyancis::iconserenecyrene::iconkeyofligh88::iconrosync::iconkeyofligh88::iconsunlightincarnate::iconpurplecherry5:

Vices and Bad Habits? 

100%
5 deviants said Comment!

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Dot-Nothing:icondot-nothing:
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Fri Sep 11, 2015, 3:36 PM
RavensQuill:iconravensquill:
:glomp: Have I mentioned how sweet you are? Thank you for your contnous support.
Tue Mar 10, 2015, 3:44 PM
storieswriter:iconstorieswriter:
I invite you to join allpoetry.com/
Mon Mar 2, 2015, 4:06 PM
Purplecherry5:iconpurplecherry5:
:la:
Wed Nov 23, 2011, 8:42 PM
ElaineRose:iconelainerose:
Btw, deviantArt is having a glitch where it won't let me comment on your profile. :shrug:
Thu Jul 21, 2011, 9:03 PM
Nobody

Activity


4,162 deviations

Features? Features.

Journal Entry: Sun Nov 18, 2018, 3:23 PM
i'm still a myth, but have these. 
pixel-art - 'riverland' by jokov
devil's advocatefeasting on an angel’s carcass i
thought i tasted moonbeans & sunlight
mixing as one
forgive me, my son
i forgot my touch was enough
to shape the water’s call
mocking the mother as she cries
pushing life into the world
i spurn life, i hate love, it burns
and the angels come to me
the eyes of children shaped into swords
i’ve seen eons, but i
still haven’t got the words
it tastes sweet, like spoonfuls of honey
mixing with the silver saccharine syrup of a
siren’s laughter
succle now, my sweet, have your life’s blood
flowing free
from the wrists of the mother moon, and
all her many lovers
i forgot to hear their names
you come from many mothers
but you bear your father’s shame
it tastes so sweet, spoonfuls of honey
the moonlight in you
the sunlight in me
the sway of sex and money
how did we get reduced to this
ashes in a carapace
choking on a gambit, well
cards never in our favor, doesn’t do to dwell
on it, honey
just for the sex and money
i p
reanimation rift by MidnightExigent Roar of the Universe by ThreeLeaves

Abstraction with birds by Hangmoon yardclear memoirmy reasons wither
in love and thick trees,
wind waking wasps to flight;
I fight another fancy
  dream about a girl I knew
climbing up to nest
in paper honey catacombs,
she smelled like summer
bees and blank verse and our worst
conversations covered contemplations
of the way we often wander
through our lives like living longer
isn't even worth the weight
of carrying our bodies back
to shore,
and I'm sure
one day she drowned in a flat tomorrow
sunrise sneaking through clouded morning mist,
but maybe I should have stayed
or told her how her neckbones
made a perfect v
or how all I could think about
was lingering past midnight
in the patio moon,
casting shadows while we danced slow
to cicada tunes
Distance by larienne MiraclesRed mud, the color of rust and drying blood marked the path to Humble’s Holy Flame Revival Ministry. The trail wasn’t made for this much traffic. It was a simple dirt track cut through the trees and down into the valley, a way for plowhorses and farm wagons to get to the fields. Today, it was full of people, all dressed in their Sunday best. Singing hymns or chatting as they made the descent.
Stories of Simon Humble and his revival came to our town in printed tracts left on doorsteps and proclaimed by street corner preaching. He healed the lame, they said, and made the blind to see. Miracles were promised and more, and so we came. We hopeful penitents seeking mercy for our sorrows. Even I came, though to be honest, I doubted this man. The Lord was many things, but I never found him merciful. Still, I trudged alongside the magpies, wary as a woodland fox.
The journey was less than an hour downhill. We cleared the last of the forest, where the dull grey tree trunks gave way t

symmetric huntgrowing web of
orbits threaten,
orders left behind
for no man.
sharp as intellect
the lines construct,
constrict,
and damn.
kiss the plan
goodbye,
stalk and grant
expiry
with abandon.
not a movement random,
but precise.
treasured heart,
beckon the knife.
Narwhal Rose' by Destotim i. on tidal waves and woundsi forgot how to swim.
last year,
when i ran across the shore,
stuck my toes in the water, the foam,
touch cold and found
                     woosh, whoosh, shhh,
it's okay,
but the hem of my dress, blue with white polka-dots, gets wet,
becomes dark.
so i try something different,
sink down, my dress inking out around me
and
i become a mermaid.
(that did not actually happen.)
i trip, fall into the drop, torn wide open to the ocean.
cry out only when
i taste salt.
Hero by ryky

Spring Dragon by Yuuza

split me outhow many times
can i snarl it
that i cannot be breathed
in this body
look, my bones gonna growl
when you bite them
see, the thunder will live
in my teeth
and these atoms of mine
murmur scarlet
in the rust of their red
they are godly
yes, my deities prowl 
but despite them
i still favor the fight
underneath
wolves by akreon malestrombull in a china shop,
i am obsessed with
the word obsessed.
walking down the isle,
isolated in pillars
my voice is a box
made of river water.
quiver loudly,
the cotton of my shirt
clings to the fat
of my tummy
and i am very much
painfully aware
of these 
heavy cells.
cellulite i(o)n
a mobile phone,
the light of cells
is both
a blinding shock.
and shining lock.
glimmer the u-shaped
at the top of a coffer,
these sails
sure a caulk ring
in that box
i was talking about 
earlier.
male storm
full of homophones,
this maelstrom
is off-kilter
when princes
are chief
in cheap particles. 
Earthbound Stars by TanyaSimpson
owl by da-bu-di-bu-da once upon a dreama dark warm-lit room:
the stillness 
of breathing each other’s air
he held her tight and my heart ached,
a fragment of reality flitting by as i remember
your hair tickling my neck and laughing apologies,
i go back to soaking in this made-up memory
tender palms stroked her back like
yours did mine, a long time ago, 
murmured ideas of affection 
seep through the cracks of closed doors,
and i started to melt with her -
i woke up to open windows and bitter
winter air, nostalgia rising like bile
in my throat, and crying as if he
had been mine
Orchids by FionaCreates inevitably     and just when did you think I disappeared?
                    the radio was tuned low, not off
                the sounds were gentle, listen softly
     the waves of innovation rise in the pool of humanity
                           and I have touched the tip barely;
              but blessed be that journey I took
                         for I learned many a thing in that moon cycle
                 and I look to the horizon as I mold it to my liking
       the crisp scent of change is on the wind,
                  and it excites me to see what it will hold -
     

UnspecifiedI still see her,
the ghostly vision of what once was
the figure that shaped
a universe for me.
Dark hair
and eyes a subtle shade of sunet
stare out at me
from corners of memory
that refuse to subside.
Whispering words to empty spaces,
wondering
if stars can transmit the signal
from my lips to her skin,
if she still recalls
the sound of my voice.
Endless questions hang unanswered,
the chaos of a heart
unsure of where it longs to beat,
and I exist
only in a blackened space
she chooses not to see.
Somewhere between the cynic
and the dreamer,
I swing from dark to light
trying to decipher
why a love alleged to be so strong
could be abandoned
so easily.
Soft silence by Gretlusky March by nataszek

Mindo - sketch commisson by Lycanium
did i have the guts?it's not glamorous
eating every meal
from a vending machine,
barely hanging on between
doses and barely being
able to pry my mouth open
because i'm shaking
and i'm heaving and i'm
constricting but i'm
fine.
Silver Fox Sketch by RedBeanViolin Looking into the Bell JarThis lid is screwed on, I’m stuck
in my head, but I can’t touch
its contents or locate where tears
activate. Words float in my body,
imprisoned in the pages between
brick exterior and wallpapered room.
Outside, trying to look into the room,
yet also inside, looking through, stuck
between stomach and mouth, between
pen and paper. Losing my sense of touch
to become an angel as I plant my body
in the snow. A bottled river of blue tears,
stale, drips mechanically onto paper, tears
become clipped roses that sit in a room:
I detach something ugly from my body
and turn it into beauty that can be stuck
in a jar, contained in a place I can’t touch
or ruin. I’m captured in the time between
nicotine and decay, in the state between
boiling water and cold earl grey. Tears
leak from a tap, a dream I can’t touch;
I remember being in the crowded room
felt more like drowning than being stuck
underwater. I remember when nobody
was on the streets: I was lost in my body,
in t
White Blue Red Clouds by Hangmoon
90's kids by Picolo-kun 2018 2 8 2307 (NaHa 7)aged eyes heavenward
a quiet resignation
he whispers goodbye
The Prince by LeafOfSteel twenty (lockout)and after the lockout
i found myself twenty dollars
richer, at the expense of
a night in a stranger’s room
he’d kissed me before, i just
stopped caring, honestly —
so when he asked
on my birthday can we
make out

i said sure
idc anymore

so strange, it’s on the
twentieth, just like
mine, but he’s much
older and it’s only
seven days
before the boy’s
i wonder what he’s
doing, nowadays —
heard he spent a few days
out of the country, and
had fun
i hope so because all i’ve found
is indifference
and lockouts

maybe the light is not benevolentroomblood drifts
a thunder of smoketipped flickers
and absent-minded notes (hickory,
california oak) left over from the day
and i dream in meta,
pulse myself to the dry drums
and wet humming of a heartbeat
stranger in a cage stirring
pale green into light;
she draws back the lining of the world
a curtain of sorrow, a curtain of flood
waters and raging fire, figurative
and literal
tomorrow is untouched, indented
but there are truths in the ways we fracture
and how can it be
anything but painful
when we are so repulsive?
13 Months by rossdraws the wizardeffortless skeumorph
of a smooth-slick interface
is a chronicle of facades
the farce in a smile
with too many teeth
to manage the chew
of unrendered fat --
manufactured to swallow
the reality of how one eats
when no one is around
so real
the blind man can read
every insecurity in 
a voice heaving
and mountainous 
as braille.
you will push the hands away
as if they mean to strangle
not to understand
and they will withdraw
curling in as paper edges
in a fire -- your resistance
to unravel so aflame;
the anger roars forth
from a mouth open, pink
warm and unremoved --
the truth beyond perception
is you absolute.
Portrait of a Girl by kuschelirmel

Lord of Light by ryky


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toxic--sunrise
United States
I'm unpredictable.



I'm other places now, too!
Tumblr | toxic--sunrise#1767 on Discord

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:iconpixeldolls: :iconthezombiecollective:

Ohhello.


Could you do me a favor? If you're here to thank for a favorite/llama/ect please don't just say
"Thank you for [thing here]!"

It's annoying to just reply "thank you!" all the time. kaythx. :heart:

EDIT: START A CONVERSATION, PLEASE. DO SOMETHING OTHER THAN JUST SAY THANK YOU. :grump:

Comments


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:iconslenderblade:
slenderblade Featured By Owner Nov 20, 2018
:tea:
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:iconsrsmith:
SRSmith Featured By Owner Nov 19, 2018   Writer

Thanks very much for the :+fav: 's!

:)

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:iconserendiipitii:
Serendiipitii Featured By Owner Nov 15, 2018  Hobbyist Writer
I appreciate the hell outta you :huggle:
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(1 Reply)
:iconserendiipitii:
Serendiipitii Featured By Owner Oct 23, 2018  Hobbyist Writer
A very happy birthday to you! :heart: I hope you have an amazing day ~
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(1 Reply)
:icondeerydeerth:
DeeryDeerth Featured By Owner Oct 23, 2018  Hobbyist General Artist
happy birthday, and may your new year of life be even more beautiful than the last!!
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(1 Reply)
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