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VideoGames101

Welcome to VideoGames101!

Thank you for visiting our group! There are just a few guidelines and rules that we'd like for all of you to follow

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1.) All submissions must be video game related, OC's and AU's are welcome

2.) Submit to the proper folders. We have a variety of folders for a variety of games. If we don't have a folder for the game your art is for submit to "other" or let us know and, depending on the demand, we will make a new folder for that game

3.) At this time we do not have a WIP folder, and aren't accepting any. If the demand changes, so will this rule. Only the final product is allowed.

4.) We do accept mature content, there is a folder for that. But we ask that it be tasteful and that it follows DeviantArt's guidelines.

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Group Info

Anything to do with video games! Games on Steam, old games, future games, games you wanna make, current games, gaming consoles. All of it!
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Bayonetta 2 black and white by seanplenahan Bayonetta 2 black and white :iconseanplenahan:seanplenahan 25 3 Man of steel by seanplenahan Man of steel :iconseanplenahan:seanplenahan 18 1 Galactus and Silver Surfer by seanplenahan Galactus and Silver Surfer :iconseanplenahan:seanplenahan 22 1 Rocket and Groot by seanplenahan Rocket and Groot :iconseanplenahan:seanplenahan 26 3
Literature
A Perfect Design - Chapter Six
Pairing: M!Shepard X OFC
World:Mass Effect 2-3 & beyond
Rated: M
Chapter Six
"What do you mean she has no implant?" Miranda demanded angrily as she paced the med bay, circling Eira like a vulture.
"I mean there is no implant to be seen," Chakwas sighed, making no attempt to hide her frustration with the woman, "I scanned her three times, Ms. Lawson. I'll scan her again if you'd like, but the results will be the same. Element zero nodes are present throughout her nervous system but I see no signs of any attempts to implant a biotic amp."
Eira swallowed hard.
Everyone seemed mad at her but no one had had the decency yet to fill her in. What was an implant? And why was it so horrible that she not have one? Did not having one make her a freak?
Eira pouted and nervously twisted her fingers in her lap until they ached.
She turned to Shepard, who had yet to say anything since returning with the woman Doctor Chakwas referred to as Lawson.
He was leaning against the
:iconFallon-Idalia:Fallon-Idalia
:iconfallon-idalia:Fallon-Idalia 2 2
Emily Shepard pin-up by Qu-Ross Emily Shepard pin-up :iconqu-ross:Qu-Ross 7 3 Fly away by MoShaol
Mature content
Fly away :iconmoshaol:MoShaol 1 0
RuRi Family Dinner by elmjuniper RuRi Family Dinner :iconelmjuniper:elmjuniper 274 62 Sad Drell by estewanii Sad Drell :iconestewanii:estewanii 49 5 That's why wichers don't kill dragons by lyutor1945 That's why wichers don't kill dragons :iconlyutor1945:lyutor1945 55 28 gdhowdareyou by Jean-Teufel gdhowdareyou :iconjean-teufel:Jean-Teufel 1,492 227 Happy times by NightCatty Happy times :iconnightcatty:NightCatty 265 27 Thane - A Proud Father by AlienFodder Thane - A Proud Father :iconalienfodder:AlienFodder 76 35 Axel and Rosair by Qu-Ross Axel and Rosair :iconqu-ross:Qu-Ross 7 8

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Steel Horses - Kingway's EndTitle: Steel HorsesAuthor: ElCapitan18 Game: Dragon Age Characters/Pairing: M!Adaar and DorianDisclaimer: All recognizable content belongs to Bioware ~*~Ozena AdaarSix months earlier… “Wait, I’m not done.”River’s sigh was long suffering as they leafed back a page and held the book open with their thumb. She could hear the unspoken, Maker’s breath , in their silence. Ozena supposed she couldn’t blame them. Things were just starting to get steamy and she was slowing down their pace to The Good Part with her slow and steady wins the race reading speed. She liked to savor the smut, sue her. She was sure that River’s sigh had nothing to do with how she’d climbed onto the back of the half elf’s bike, draped herself onto their back, propped her chin on their shoulder, and started reading along; out loud at first, until things had started to get good, then annoying River had taken a backseat to the story they were reading. She’d made jokes before when she’d read the title, but Ozena was mature enough to admit when she was wrong. As it turned out Hard in Hightown was a page turner. No, her complete disregard for personal space had nothing to do with River’s silent, not-at-all-vocal-but-felt-in-spirit grumbling. After almost a decade and a half of riding together, they knew that a little Big Spoon action was the least of Ozena’s mindless affections. This was nothing. It got worse if the mood was right and all parties were willing. If she knew River --and after all this time she liked to think that she did-- they just wanted to finish this chapter before Shokrakar and Zet emerged from the clubhouse and led the way to their next paycheck. Ozena was slowing them down. The kiss she pressed to their shoulder, and the gentle squeeze of her arms around their waist, was meant as an apology. When she lifted her mouth from the smooth, cool leather of River’s cut, she murmured, “Okay, next page,” and tried to keep up with their lightning fast reading speed.Valo-Kas had an escort job tonight, the extent of which was mostly to look tough and dissuade any funny business with a head count. It was easy shit, routine shit, business as usual. With four horned giants --three of which were the size of brick shit-houses, herself included-- and a motley assortment of tough as shit bad asses, all armed to the teeth and decked out in matching leather cuts, most people with good sense knew better than to try anything. Everyone else learned that lesson pretty quickly. 60% of the time they got paid to make an appearance. The other 40% was when they actually got to have some fun. According to Shokrakar, fun wasn’t on tonight’s itinerary. Their client just wanted a show of force and thought it’d be enough to keep things civil. But there was a saying about the Maker’s attitude on mortals making plans. They’d be ready for anything regardless of how it went down. A sense of foreboding made Ozena hold River tighter, an ominous uncertainty that niggled at the back of her neck and the back of her mind. It felt like that moment of near realization. The fraction of a second just before you were actively aware that you were about to fall, an instant of knowing and not knowing, the glide before the tumble. Something was going to happen tonight. Good or bad, she had no way of knowing, but her instincts were coiled tight, springloaded to meet whatever the night had in store. Her gaze lifted from the page she hadn’t been reading, not out of boredom, but because the tightness in her gut was making it hard to concentrate on the words. She looked around at the other members of Valo-Kas, all milling about, waiting for their President and VP to give them the order to mount up and ride out. A bit of familial warmth chased away the apprehension that had started to cool her blood. These were her people, her brothers and sisters. She’d die for any one of them without a second thought. They were her club, which was more than family, more binding than blood, though Ozet would always be her number one and anyone who accused her of playing favorites was right. Ozet was everyone’s favorite. Any claim to the contrary was a fucking lie. They were a small MC compared to others around Ferelden and the Free Marches, boasting a total of nine members in all. Val-Kas was the Mother Charter, the Original club, a ragtag group of ex-cons and former military that felt no need to franchise their brand and spread across the map like an STD at a music festival. Small circles were easier to maintain. Besides, she’d bet on her mismatched nine against any club with the call sheet in the dozens. There was chill, unflappable River, with their pinstraight, midnight black hair and olive skin. Who leaned so heavily on the elven helf of their heritage that their body was as genderless as their identity. Their build was lean and accompanied by diamond sharp, angular features. Heavy lidded, almond shaped eyes sat under thick, sculpted eyebrows and between a wide nose that gave them the appearance of a cat. They were willowy and agile, and the only thing human about them was their height. They were still shorter than Ozena, but most humans were, even the tall ones. Ashir, the MC’s Sergeant at Arms, was bulky for an elf. Full elf, not a half blood like River and Eema --technically Nys, too. The wild waves of his dark brown hair was almost always secured into a messy top knot that --without fail-- looked like one wrong move would snap the hair tie and loose his glorious mane. His Dalish heritage was in his ink, the intricate black lines that covered his bronzy terracotta surface all the way from his brow to his knuckles, even onto this feet. Quick as most were to dismiss the Dalish, she’d seen his prowess in combat outstrip trained soldiers. He’d earned that Sergeant patch several times over. Their Road Captain, Devlon, was the club’s lone dwarf. His ash blond hair was as long as it was thick, ritualistically braided in intricate ropes, ornamented with gold rings and beads. They made them tough in Orzammar, and Dev was the cream of the military crop. He didn’t like to talk about what brought him topside, and she knew better than to ask. Some walls took longer than others to scale, and then there were those too thick and too tall for even time to make a difference. Down the line of motorcycles, Eema and Nysris were both lounging on their bikes, propped onto the seats sidesaddle as one thumbed through their phone and the other amused herself by folding bits of paper and flicking the pieces at the field goal of Vercer’s lifted hands. They were both half elves but, unlike Eema, Nys’ other half was Tal Vashoth. They were night and day in a sense that was a stone’s throw away from literal. Where Eema was the warm golds of a cloudless summer day, Nysris was as dark as an overcast night. The vashoth influence on her genes manifested first in her horns, but also in her black skin. Not umber or plum, black like obsidian, onyx, or the vast infinity between stars. When they opened their mouths to speak the real surprise was that, of the two, Nys’ upbeat personality was the one that shone bright as the sun. Eema was quiet and reticent, with a dark sense of humor that took everyone with a clear line of sight by surprise every single time. Vercer was Valo-Kas’ only human and newest patched member. Sponsored by Nys, who’d been impressed by his performance in a bar fight, they’d only just voted him in as a fully patched member last night. This was the first job he’d work with a top and bottom rocker instead of the Prospect patch he’d worn for the last year. By the twinkle in his baby blues, the man was thrilled and his excitement was contagious. The MC was an outlaw’s trail mix, but they were family and she wouldn’t trade any last one of them for anything. Before she could berate herself for being a sap, the clubhouse’s door kicked open and their two unaccounted for members finally emerged from within. Shokrakar was big for a femal, even by Tal Vashoth standards, with a commanding mein that made the President patch on her chest all but obsolete. With her height and build, the intimidating size of her horns, and the facial scars, there was no question that she was the woman in charge. Zet also lived and breathed his Vice President patch. He was taller than Shok by only a few inches, wider and bulkier, though significantly less grizzled. His comparable youth was in his musculature, in the well defined, bulging ropes of muscle that hadn’t been sandblasted by time. He had the same dark, coal ash complexion that she did, and also kept his cascading sheets of silver hair nearly as long. He and Shok would have made anything other than their power cruisers look like crotch rockets. As they approached, Ozena kissed River’s cheek before breaking the circle of her arms from around their waist and lifting her leg over the back of their bike. She moved to the next bike over, where she was parked just beside them, and leaned back in her seat to wait for the club’s officers to lead the charge. “Mount up, you lazy shits,” said Shokrakar as she walked down the line of bikes to where hers was parked at the end. A wink was aimed at Ozena as she passed her. “We’ve got a job to do.”Zet, who was close on Shok’s heels, his bike in the spot beside the president’s, gave her a familiar look as he sauntered by. There was a wordless, stay close to me , in the violet rings of his eyes. Her replying nod was imperceptible and Ozena wasn’t sure if she should be reassured by the silent request. Of course she could take care of herself but, that it was made at all meant that he felt it too; that ominous something that made her skin feel tight. Maybe it was just another twin thing. Whatever the reason, she wasn’t going to let him out of her sight tonight. The raucous roar of engines filled the night as, one after the other, their bikes came alive. Shok pushed off first, rolling toward the gated exit as the others followed suit, falling into formation behind her once they hit the street. There was a refreshing chill in the air and she breathed in deeply. On nights like tonight it was easy to imagine herself riding into forever, not a worry to her name so long as the road stretched on, but then she glanced around at her club, at her family, and the fantasy turned sour. There was no forever without them, and jobs like the one they were riding towards now was what kept them going. They’d be fine. Just like they always were. Ozet AdaarThe drive from their clubhouse on the outskirts of Amaranthine wasn’t far from the shipping yard in Seagrave, the location of the client’s meetup. As escort and entourage, they would catch up with the client on the way then accompany them to their meeting, where they were expected to mean mug their associate into rethinking any poorly put together plans involving a forceful renege of any previously established agreements. The arrangement raised some questions that they were paid not to ask. Though that didn’t stop his interest from being piqued. He didn’t know much about the client. Next to nothing, actually. Shokrakar had done the coordinating and they’d done enough jobs like this one that Zet hadn’t minded letting the old crone do her thing. This was their bread and butter, routine, business as usual bullshit. Valo-Kas was a well oiled machine and could do this hogtied, blind folded, and swinging from a tree like a piñata. He had the utmost faith in his club. So then why was his stomach so tight his abs hurt like he’d spent the last two hours braced for a punch to the gut?This was one of those times he wished that Shok would revisit their ‘ask no questions’ policy. Capable as they were, there were things they couldn't prepare for if they went into it blind. They’d survived this long because they were tough as shit, crafty as hell, and had some higher power looking out for them. But their luck was finite. Someday it was going to run out. He gripped the handlebars tighter and stopped himself from looking over his shoulder to where Zen was riding. If he had to pick a night to scrape the dredges of their Good Luck Barrel, it’d be the night they did a job for some Vint high roller cruising through town looking for muscle. They’d been hired because the client had no friends, no connections this side of the Waking Sea, and looking weak was how out of town big shots ended up floating onto shore with a bullet hole between their eyes and the back of their head blown off. Deductive reasoning and over a decade in The Life made it easy to determine what this meeting was about. If their client had no friends then they had to make some. This was more than a business deal. It was a date, a courtship. Their client was out to woo and the question he wouldn't be asking was: what for?Zet was trying not to let preparedness turn into paranoia. As VP his job was to think ahead, picture all the possibilities, and prepare for them accordingly. It was a fine line to walk, to not succumb to the anxiety that one misstep could end with members dead or arrested, and the club torn apart. They’d done this before. Sometimes shit went sideways. It was part of the job and part of the paycheck. If that was the case this go around they’d handle it like all the times before: teeth bared, guns raised, and hell bent on taking as many fuckers down with them before karma did her thing. His sigh was resolute, determined, and the breath that followed as fortified by the night’s cold air. They rode up on a luxury SUV and he recognized the plates. He and Shokrakar shared a look before he nodded and raised a hand to signal the others. Valo-Kas flowed around the vehicle and lined up in front of it. Their headlights and roaring engines guided the way to Seagrave. There wasn’t much traffic on the roads this late at night, expediting the drive into the privatized port and shipping yard. The procession drove deeper into the fenced area, between the rusted patchwork of stacked shipping containers, toward the docks. When the SUV flashed its high beams they slowed to a stop. Kickstands were toed out, engines cut, and the few helmets removed as he and Shok both unstradled their bikes. The others followed suit but stayed behind as he and their president went to officially greet their client. As they strode toward the SUV a tall, well dressed and groomed elf stepped out of the driver's seat. He started for the back door without acknowledging either of them before pulling it open and offering the person inside his hand. An eyebrow cocked when he noticed slender, jewel covered fingers slip into his extended palm. The sharp click of stilettos on pavement were followed by the reveal of a tall, slender, human woman with dark, russet skin, black hair twisted into an elegant bun, and a sleek, black dress with a harsh, sharp, angled design. She smoothed a manicured hand over her dress as cold, dark eyes assessed their approach. Her gaze was guarded, shrewd, ink blots that dressed them down with a single sweep. Face and features as round as hears might have been gentle on anyone else, but she had the indomitable severity of a businesswoman that specialized in the less than legal. Small as she was by comparison to him and Shokrakar, her presence was strangely commanding. This was clearly a woman who dealt with their “kind” often. Glancing between them, her eyes landed on the older Tal Vashoth and she extended a hand in her direction. “You must be Shokrakar, President of Valo-Kas.” her accent had a melodic elegance to it, the chime of an expensive education. Her grip swallowed her hand whole. With a jerk of her chin she motioned her attention toward him. “And this is my VP, Ozet.” When their hands broke apart the woman offered it to him, smile too cold to be pleasant. He gave her hand a firm shake anyway, well accustomed to getting greeted with both distrust and distaste right off the bat. Sometimes their clients resented them for the same reasons they hired them in the first place. They were big, hulking, horned bikers that looked more likely to take a lead pipe to your kneecaps than to watch your back. That aethstetic was part of the deal. It was what she was paying them for. By the sharp edge to her stare, he was guessing that she was loathe to acknowledge that fact. “My name is Livia Herathinos,” she said, turning on her heel with a look toward her elf driver, a wordless command that had him moving with her toward the back of the vehicle. Without looking back at them, she explained, “All that I require of your club tonight is its presence. Of the both of you, I might request a touch more.”The driver popped the trunk open and, as they followed her to the SUV’s back bumper, he began to unload some reinforced cases. They were wide and thick, built to survive a beating. One was handed off to each of them and Zet was surprised by its weight. As the cases were distributed, Livia explained, “I ask that you accompany me into the meeting. All this requires of you is to stay close behind me and bring the cases when I signal for them. There will be no need for you to say or do anything beyond stand there and look menacing.”Shok huffed an amused breath and considered the case in her hand. “You want us to carry your bags.”“If you think you can manage it.”The laugh faded from her expression and, for several tense heartbeats, she and Livia just stared at each other. It was Shok that backed down first, grunting dispassionately, not because she was intimidated by her but because carrying bags was part of the job. She was a Vint and obviously came from money, maybe even from some influential family too far north from here for them to care, this was just how their kind treated those they deemed beneath them. It wasn’t personal and, so long as she paid, it didn’t fucking matter. He and Shokrakar shared another look. At Zet’s raised eyebrow the older female refocused on Livia and nodded for her to lead the way. Her replying nod was satisfied with what she interpreted as submission. She gave her driver a meaningful glance and he shut the trunk and took the space directly behind her as she led them toward the docks. Driver and bodyguard. Zet had to wonder if Slave was his actual job description. By the way she was keeping him close, he was guessing yes. That was the way of the Tevinter Elite. After signalling for the other members to fall in line with them, the group strode unhurriedly toward the docks, where the crash of hightide thundered in the night. There was a small group of three waiting for them. A pale human man with two others behind him. Zet didn’t recognize any of them, and couldn't see any identifying colors under their shirt collars or exposed skin. Behind him, Valo-Kas fanned out. He wanted to glance back at Nys and Zen and order them to check the perimeter, but they were too close to Livia’s associate for him to take his eyes off of them. He and Shok were supposed to be her growling, drooling mabari hounds. If he looked away it broke the illusion that he was more than happy to kill for her and just as prepared to die for her, too. So he kept his eyes forward and hoped that his twin and Nys knew enough to do a quick check their environs.The human man at point spoke over the churning ocean’s din with a rough, “Do you have it?” Livia motioned for him and Shokrakar to step forward. Once they were close, she turned her back on the humans and approached them one at a time, opening each of their cases to reveal military grade weaponry fitted into the shaped foam interior. When she stepped away it was with an inviting wave. The human at point looked back at his companions before stepping forward to inspect the guns. As he removed a rifle, Livia explained, “Today I’ve brought you just a taste of what we have in stock. What you’re holding there is a 7.62 mm enhanced battle rifle. You’ll find a M240L machine gun in the second case.” They watched as the man tested the weight of it, lifted the rifle’s butt to his shoulder, pointed the barrel toward a shipping container and stared down the sights. As he tested the weapon, she explained, “We also have a selection of AKs and semi automatic pistols, depending on demand.”Lifting his face from the weapon, he grinned like a kid on Wintersend. “May I,” he asked, looking toward the provided ammunition.Her smile was polite as she gestured toward the case in Zet’s hand. “By all means.”He picked the magazine out of the case and slammed it into place. Grinning back at his men he aimed again at the shipping container and squeezed the trigger. The thunder of round after round firing off at a lightning fast pace was joined by the flash at the end of the rifle’s barrel. The man laughed before doing another sweep at the container, tearing through the metal like a knife through warm butter. He lowered the gun and turned to Livia, excitement in his eyes. “Let’s talk numbers,” he said, and before another word could come out of either of them, the thunder of even more gunshots filled the night.
Cosplay
Coco Bandicoot cosplay 2016 by KawaiiSteffu
Bioshock
I started this story on my own, but I would really prefer to share it in an RP.
The synopsis is as follows:
Rowena, the world's only female witcher, was raised under extraordinary circumstances. Much like her male companions Geralt, Eskel, and Lambert, she has built a life as a nomadic and ruthless killer for hire. Such a reclusive lifestyle can be difficult on anyone human, regardless of a lifetime of rigorous training. A chance encounter between friends, Rowena and Eskel, leads to a night of drunken passion, something they both need. But when the witcheress' true feelings for Geralt are crushed by the introduction of his new lover, Yennifer, the annual winter rest a Kaer Morhen breeds contentment between the four friends for the first time.
Basically I've set the stage for a dramatic and exciting love debacle. Lambert is secretly in love with Roe who has shared a bed with Eskel. Roe secretly loves Geralt, who brings a woman to Kaer Morhen than no one can stand even sharing the air with. Eskel finds himself falling for Roe, knowing how she feels for Geralt. And with Geralt and Yen's notorious "on again off again" relationship status, Roe might not be able to resist letting her true feelings show. How will Eskel react? Will Yenn find out? Will Lambert stay quiet? Oh the drama!
To keep things simple, I'd like for this stay between no more than 2 to 3 writers (including myself). I have been in RP's larger than that and ultimately someone always drops the ball. PLEASE ensure you are editing you writing! Put more thought into your work than just a few short sentences! And progress the story!
This will be a Mature story, so please be of age 18 or above.
I would like to write for Rowena and Geralt. That leaves room for Eskel, Lambert, and Yennifer.
I have started the story here:

Rowena dismounted her horse, glad to have made it to the village for the evening. The thought of one more night of sleeping in fields and forests made her skin itch, and the thick mud caked to her boots weighed heavily on her aching legs. She carefully tied her companion to the nearest trough and paid handsomely for extra feed and water before venturing inside the Inn, hoping there would be room or at very least, welcome. Not many did welcome her “kind” in these small offset villages of the land. Her eyes would give her away if nothing else, so it made little sense to remove one of the two swords she carried upon her back. One for monsters, the other for beasts, but in her unfortunate experience, there was often little difference between the two save the choice between oils.
The warmth of the Inn’s tavern fires were of welcomed relief to her cold joints. Winter was not yet upon them, but the night rides were a chilly discomfort nonetheless. Pausing to take in the scene, a small smirk joined the scar on he left cheek. No matter where she went in the world, town folk were the same. She knew not if that gave her comfort or if it was the simply the benefit of knowing what to expect. The aching feet inside her heavy leather boots carried her toward the bar where the tender, and likely the Innkeep, was cleaning glasses. He nodded at her approach, unmolested by her obvious witcher presentation, and set aside his task to lean toward her on the bar.
“A female Witcher. Can’t say I’ve heard of many of you before”, he remarked, studying her slowly.
Rowena rested her elbows into the bar, relaxing the muscles of her back for the first time in what felt like days, “You wouldn’t have. I’m the only one.”
“Really? And is that some kind of honor, then?”
She stifled a chuckle, rising back to her full height which surprisingly was not much above 5’6’’, “I sure hope not.”
The barman nodded again, giving her a deep grin, “What’ll it be then?”
“Two night’s bedding. I’ll be here to resolve some of your town folk’s contracts, then be on my way.”
“Oh”, he responded hesitantly. “In that case, I best be tellin’ ya there may not be much in the way of contracts here for you, Miss.”
Rowena’s arched brow rose, “I have it in good confidence that this village was begging for a witcher not three days ago.”
“Yes ma’am, but you see”, his long arm pointed to a darkened corner at the back of the room. Two men boxing obstructed the view of a man sitting there alone, enjoying a large ale in silence. His face could not be properly studied from this distance, lighting, and distractions, but the woman had a good feeling she knew who sat there based on posture alone. “That there’s a Witcher been here a night already. Killed many of the monsters set to contract and on the trail of the last. Sorry, Miss.”
The woman witcher squinted in the direction of her competitor, studying him from afar, “It’s alright. Happens from time to time. I’ll take the room for a night, and a couple of pints.”
After exchanging the coin for two large mugs, Rowena set out toward the back of the tavern where she watched her competitor finishing the last few drops of his drink. Having not taken any notice of her, he began to stand when the slam and slosh of foamy brew hit his table.
“Where do you think you’re going?, the familiar female voice asked cooly.

Please note me to respond.
Thanks!
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BLUPROPAGANDA Featured By Owner Mar 17, 2017  Hobbyist General Artist
Everybody needs to watch Hsu and Chan:
www.youtube.com/channel/UCC-PA…
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:iconoopoppy2:
Oopoppy2 Featured By Owner Aug 17, 2014  Hobbyist General Artist
Hello! Thanks for the invite! ➕1⃣ It's a pleasure to be here!
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:iconmzies:
MZies Featured By Owner Aug 18, 2014  Hobbyist Filmographer
Glad to have you here!!
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:iconbrokenbrookiecookie:
BrokenBrookieCookie Featured By Owner Aug 14, 2014  Hobbyist Traditional Artist
Thank you so much for the invite! :heart:
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:iconmzies:
MZies Featured By Owner Aug 15, 2014  Hobbyist Filmographer
No prob!  We're very glad for you to join! :D <3
I thought that you'd like to join since you're getting into video games. 
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:iconbrokenbrookiecookie:
BrokenBrookieCookie Featured By Owner Aug 16, 2014  Hobbyist Traditional Artist
I'm happy to be here! <3 :D And aww, thank you for thinking of me <3 :)
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:iconmzies:
MZies Featured By Owner Aug 16, 2014  Hobbyist Filmographer
YAAAY! :D
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(1 Reply)
:icondeepinthebastabyss:
Deepinthebastabyss Featured By Owner Jun 13, 2014  Hobbyist Traditional Artist
A lot of cheap games on steam: www.facebook.com/pages/Cheap-S…
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