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#ppurinpu
ppurinpu · 6 months
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Forger family vacation 🚂 (from spy x family season 1 opening)
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lewdybooty · 2 months
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Two Truths and a Lie game
Thank you @quiet-nocturne for nominating me! I believe your lie #3 ? 🕵🏻‍♀️ because lord knows we were alive for floppy disks…
For mine:
#1 My first tablet drawing was of Kakashi from Naruto
#2 When I was a teenager, I’d write one shots of Winry getting plowed by every man in FMA
#3 I have never experience anything colder than -13F
Now it’s your turn @littlewitchbee & @ppurinpu 🩷
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klainelynch · 1 year
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I posted 12,080 times in 2022
97 posts created (1%)
11,983 posts reblogged (99%)
Blogs I reblogged the most:
@his-name-is-ed
@oohlookakitty
@musing-and-music
@jpierrepontcriss
@forpiratereasons
I tagged 11,986 of my posts in 2022
Only 1% of my posts had no tags
#fmab - 1,622 posts
#ofmd - 1,476 posts
#star wars - 1,137 posts
#riza hawkeye - 969 posts
#avatar verse - 942 posts
#roy mustang - 915 posts
#stede bonnet - 748 posts
#atla - 736 posts
#royai - 733 posts
#wwdits - 649 posts
Longest Tag: 96 characters
#🙃🙃🙃🙃🙃🙃🙃🙃🙃🙃🙃🙃🙃🙃🙃🙃🙃🙃🙃🙃🙃🙃🙃🙃🙃🙃🙃🙃🙃🙃🙃🙃🙃🙃🙃🙃🙃🙃🙃🙃🙃🙃🙃🙃🙃🙃🙃🙃
My Top Posts in 2022:
#5
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Summary:
There was a legend as old as the Avatar itself that the face you wore in this life reflected the face of the person you loved the most in your previous life. It was something Ta Min had heard in her youth, something like an old wives’ tale that brought upon notions of splendor and fate. When she was a little girl, she often wondered if her face was of someone she had cared for that deeply so long ago.
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Or, three of the Avatar's loves wonder what the face of the next Avatar will be. Whose face will they see?
Written by @itsmoonpeaches
Listen on AO3 with music (15:03) or without music (14:24)
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[Image Description: The background is tan with two flowers. There are three screenshots from Avatar: Ta Min on her wedding day, Katara when she first meets Aang, and Asami smiling at Korra. There is a darker tan box in the bottom right corner with the podfic's information. "Making Faces" is written in a brown cursive font. "written by itsmoonpeaches" and "read by klainelynch" is written in a brown print font. End ID]
56 notes - Posted June 24, 2022
#4
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They didn’t eat steak on his last night on her boat. They ate pizza, simply because they already had all of the ingredients and it sounded good to him, and they sliced the tomatoes together, and Riza picked the first of the basil from the small herb garden she had started in the kitchen window, and Roy tossed flour in her hair as she rolled out the dough, and Roy ran as she swung the rolling pin at him, and he had never realized that cheese and tomato and crust could taste like everything he had ever worked for.
the sky is getting bright (somebody slow it down)
Thank you SO much @kangdae95draws​ for this absolutely incredible piece of art!! I am blown away by your talent and how quickly you brought this tender little scene to life 💖💖💖
If you want similar joy and light in your life, go commission her right now!!
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[Image Description: Riza Hawkeye and Roy Mustang are in a kitchen making pizza. Riza is wearing a purple short sleeved shirt and her hair is down. Roy is wearing a yellow button up shirt with his sleeves rolled up. They are both wearing red aprons. Riza is attempting to roll out dough, but is distracted by Roy tossing flour at her. Her expression is confused, while his is mischievous. End ID]
88 notes - Posted January 29, 2022
#3
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Thank you so much @ppurinpu for bringing this moment from fireworks to life! I was so happy that you had space open in your commissions, and the entire experience of working with you was so amazing y’all she interpreted my stick figure drawings to bring this beauty to life, she is AMAZING
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[Image Description: Alphonse Elric and May Chang from Fullmetal Achemist. The characters are in their late teens/early twenties. They are both wearing Xing clothing: Al’s dark green, and May’s is pink with white flowers. May is holding onto Al’s arm, and their fingers are interlaced. Both characters are lightly blushing with peaceful smiles. They are leaning against a brick wall. The sky is purple with twinkling stars. The lights from the fireworks are reflected along the edges of the artworks, as well as within both of their eyes. End ID]
106 notes - Posted April 17, 2022
#2
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Thank you AI for knowing exactly what I meant
[Image Description: Nine images generated by DALL-E mini with the prompt "Roy Mustang tiny miniskirts," all featuring a closeup of Roy's face or a wide shot of him wearing a miniskirt. End ID]
110 notes - Posted June 15, 2022
My #1 post of 2022
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I always need more Iroh in my life, and @terra-arts just blew me away with this quiet moment between a grandfather and his granddaughter. Every part of this, from the warm colors to the soft lines, just radiates the love and peace that this family has finally found. It’s the breaking of cycles of violence and trauma for meeeee 😭
Terra is a joy to work with, so if you ever have a chance to commission them, please do so!!
[Image Description: Iroh and Izumi are against an orange background. He is facing away from the viewer, but his head is facing us, showing his loving eyes and smile. His hair and beard are white, and he is wearing green robes. Izumi is a toddler. Her eyes are closed and she is clearly relaxed in his arms. She has a full head of dark hair, and is wearing red robes. End ID]
222 notes - Posted October 16, 2022
Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →
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goneadrift · 2 years
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This gorgeous and fierce darling, my little meow meow, made by awesome @ppurinpu!! 🥰 It was such a joy too see the process and the final result 😍
Look out for commissions too!
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by-nina · 2 years
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—how can I stay away?
AO3 | FFN @fmasecretsanta Rating: T (highly suggestive content) Genre: Romance Word Count: 3,485
A/N: Surprise and happy holidays, @ppurinpu! I'm your FMA Secret Santa. This was such a thrill to write, and in particular, writing about this game was a very fun first for me. I hope this is the dose of Royai you wanted. And to fans of Carly Rae Jepsen—if you know, you know!
There’s a near-empty bottle of wine between them on the floor, cards in their hands for what was meant to be a practice game of poker but which like many nights has turned into something else entirely. Roy leans against the foot of the bed, suppressing a grin. The game has already rewarded him with his Lieutenant’s silk blouse and sheer gloves discarded on the rug, her complexion tinted by a gorgeous flush in the dim glow of the furnace—or is it the heat of anticipation coloring her bare skin?
———
The rules of their game are simple.
Nothing changes about the way they work, the way they act around each other, even the way they talk. By day and in everyone’s eyes, they are Colonel Mustang and Lieutenant Hawkeye. The most that anyone might say about their dynamic is that he depends too much on his subordinate, or that she is the only one who can consistently keep her superior in line, but no one has ever suspected a thing about the nights they spend together.
Nobody can know about their arrangement—a scandal will irreparably hurt his image and his aspirations of climbing the ranks, and the disdainful whispers that will follow her around are unthinkable.
Neither one of them talks about it, and so they never know when they will find themselves entangled in each other again, or where, or how. Tonight, it begins at a casino hotel northwest of Central in the middle of a sudden snowstorm. They had been there just to spy on an alchemist’s counterfeiting operation, the first evening of a two-week assignment, but as the weather worsened, they retreated to a room where they could safely discuss strategy and targets and timelines.
There’s a near-empty bottle of wine between them on the floor, cards in their hands for what was meant to be a practice game of poker but which like many nights has turned into something else entirely. Roy leans against the foot of the bed, suppressing a grin. The game has already rewarded him with his Lieutenant’s silk blouse and sheer gloves discarded on the rug, her complexion tinted by a gorgeous flush in the dim glow of the furnace—or is it the heat of anticipation coloring her bare skin?
Roy glances down at his cards to look away from her. He’s confident he will win this showdown, but he has already spoiled it somewhat by the twitch in his hand, giving away his impatience to see more of her, to touch her. He looks up again. He shouldn’t be in a hurry to break the tension between them, not when her gaze is so quietly piercing and yet so shy that his imagination is running wildly, pushing past her façade to see how he can try to break it off of her. This will be worth the wait.
He reveals his hand first. “Full house.”
Her face remains impassive, but Roy notices the way her shoulders tense for just a second as she studies her hand. He decides right then and there that he will do away with her undergarments next, pictures himself pushing the black straps down over her arms as he kisses her neck and—
A royal flush.
The corners of the Lieutenant’s rose-colored lips curl slightly as she places her winning cards next to his. “You’re letting down your defenses, Sir.”
Roy can only blink in astonishment as he realizes he had completely misread her careful, nervous body language for this turn. He closes his agape mouth, then relaxes, allowing himself a small laugh. “I didn’t think there was any use keeping them up around you. You know me well enough. But I thought I knew you, Lieutenant.”
She leans forward, then she’s on all fours slowly inching closer to him. Roy’s heart drums all the way up in his throat when they come face to face. The heat radiating from her skin is almost palpable now, more intoxicating to him than the wine. He stays still as her fingers wrap around his necktie, and her voice drops to a provocative whisper.
“See if you still think you do.”
———
By the warm glow of the furnace, Riza sees hunger fill Roy’s eyes.
She undoes his tie slowly, as if she expects him to resolve the tension between them before she finishes—as if their arrangement has ever been anything other than physical. It’s a foolish thing to hope for, but Riza cannot be blamed for wondering why they keep finding themselves in situations like this when there is so much at stake. Their shared goals, their positions, gambled in some pursuit of pleasure which only ever goes in circles.
Riza should know better than to play along. Even now, as the tie slips from around his neck and down to the floor, she struggles with the part of her that swore to protect him and keep him on a straight path. The dutiful, selfless part of her that knows personal feelings are not in the cards they’ve been dealt. But Riza has since learned how to turn her back on the right thing in order to give Roy what he wants, even if only for a fleeting moment.
Even if she has to play the losing hand every time.
Roy falters for the second time when he swallows in thinly disguised excitement as her hand brushes against his bare neck. A small sound escapes him; Riza isn’t sure whether it was a hitch in his breath or a whimper. It’s no surprise even to herself that this is the kind of reaction she is getting from him. She has never behaved this provocatively before, never having had any reason to try anything different of her own volition. The game is as good an excuse as anything, allowing her to act uncharacteristically to her own advantage. And even so, she feels the color rising in her cheeks, her heartbeat filling her chest—
—focus, Riza. Her turn hasn’t ended.
“Steady, Colonel.” Riza draws a sharp breath, and she hopes that he mistakes her nervousness for arousal. “We raised the bet, remember?”
He stares at her hard, and she can see him struggle to keep his composure. It’s still poker, after all, the only game that Riza has seen him enjoy as much as he does chess, perhaps one that suits him even more than the latter. “Of course.”
Roy leans back, and Riza takes her time to choose the second article of clothing she will remove from him as the bet requires. She already did away with his coat in her last winning turn, and he isn’t wearing a vest tonight, which leaves her with his shirt, belt, trousers—her breath catches somewhere in her chest—and shoes and socks. Her eyes wander over his body until at last, she makes her choice by slowly running her hand down his chest, hoping he doesn’t notice the trembling in her hand. She tugs the hem of his shirt free from his trousers, and one by one, she unfastens the buttons, steady and uninterrupted until she notices him watching her closely. Far more closely than she is used to.
Quietly panicking, Riza grabs him by the collar. It surprises them both when they stop just short of their noses touching, long enough to exchange a bewildered but knowing look before she gathers herself and pushes the shirt back over his chest and down his arms. Riza pulls back and tosses the shirt to the side. She looks away from Roy as his chest rises and falls with several deep breaths until he returns to normal.
“Shall I deal again, then?”
———
This isn’t the Riza he knows.
The Riza of this arrangement is seemingly demure and reserved, a prelude to her fully submissive self when he has his way with her. She is as unassuming as a spark, and he is the blaze she sets off. The Riza in front of him now, on the other hand—she is new and different. She burns on her own and a little more brightly than a small spark, a kind of fire that is dangerous to play with because of its volatility. It’s an entirely new risk to take, because an arrangement like theirs cannot afford to be malleable or unpredictable.
The more Roy thinks about it, the more he craves it.
After dealing their new hands, Roy examines her face. She wears a look of deep concentration as she considers her cards. Does she have a second winning hand in a row? Is she figuring out which cards to discard and which ones to keep? Then, he finds himself asking other questions—what could make Riza want to win? Is she playing as her naturally competitive self, or is it part of this new side of her that Roy has just gotten a glimpse of? He isn’t getting anything from her warm honey-brown eyes, her gently curved lips, her—
“Colonel?”
Riza looks up, and with it Roy realizes that he had spoken without meaning to. He catches himself with a small, easy laugh. “I said, how about you tell me what you want to happen, Lieutenant?”
“And why do you want to know that?”
There it is again, that new fire about her, this time hidden beneath a veneer of the Riza he has known far longer than these nights have been happening, the Riza he has trusted far longer and with much more. Roy stares at her for a long, quiet moment before he continues. “You’ve never really kept a secret from me. Like I said, I thought I knew you. But you’ve got me up against the wall right now, and I can’t help but wonder how you’re doing it. Playing this well.”
Roy doesn’t know if Riza’s expression shifts before she turns back to her cards. It happens too quickly for him to be sure. “It’s called strategy, Sir,” she says matter-of-factly. “I don’t think you’ll be considering how well you know your opponent when you’re at a real poker match. And if I tell you what I’m planning, what’s the point in playing the game?
His curiosity grows, but he doesn’t press further. Although her answer has given Roy no hint to what she is thinking, he relishes the thought that he does know how she thinks.
Another long silence passes, ending when Riza looks up from her cards and meets his eyes. “Two.”
Two articles of clothing, just like they bet before the previous showdown. Roy’s eyes roam over Riza from head to toe. He ruminates on her bet; it’s a safe continuation of their pace thus far, a bet that someone with losing cards is most likely to make. He could very well win this turn, and that would be one thing, but Roy wants more now. He wants more than to touch her, more than her hands and her mouth on him.
He wants her, vulnerable and his.
“Two.”
The first round of betting ends, and they both draw two new cards each. This time, Roy is certain about the strength of his hand. He can practically feel the heat stirring in his middle, spreading downwards with the expectation of how the showdown will play out. He waits for Riza as she carefully—uselessly—rearranges the order of her cards. Then at last, the second round of betting for the present turn—
“Two,” Riza repeats.
Roy nods slowly. His heart leaps in satisfaction. “Two. But we can afford to up the ante, can’t we, Lieutenant?”
Keeping his eyes locked with Riza’s, Roy takes his free hand and slowly begins to unbuckle his belt. She takes the slightest breath and asks, “What do you mean?”
“The bet stands. Whoever loses the showdown will only need to remove two pieces of clothing. This”—Roy tugs at his belt to loosen it around his hips—“is just to make things more interesting for whoever wins.”
He watches her as his belt snakes around him then comes out of the last loop. Not content with the subtle effect it has on Riza, he slips his thumb under the waistband and works his way towards the brass button holding his trousers together. He unfastens it, pulls the zipper down by just an inch, and pulls the opening to the side to reveal just a bit of skin. Roy then leans back to soak in the way Riza is looking at him, as though she will fall apart at the slightest provocation.
“Now then,” he says quietly, “what have you got for me?”
It’s working as Roy intended, better than any old bluff. Riza’s chest shines with a thin layer of sweat, and he can see her jaw and lips tighten as she sits evidently torn between thinking her choices through and maintaining her composure. Her posture shifts, and Roy’s hand curls tightly in his lap from excitement. She then extends one leg towards him, the toe of her cream-colored heel pointed straight at him; her other leg is bent, as if she is keeping her other foot back until he has attended to the one in front of him.
Well.
It takes Roy a great deal of patience not to disrupt the game and have her now. He leans forward, holds her foot gently, and undoes the buckle of her heel with swift, deft fingers, making sure to touch as much of her exposed skin as he can. Thud.  The heel comes off and drops onto the rug, and he turns his attention to her other foot, moving closer to her. Roy takes more time, running his hand up and down her calf, watching her control her breaths and avoid looking directly at him. Thud. He doesn’t let go of her even with the second heel gone; he makes his way under her long skirt and down the side of her thigh, his palm hot on her skin.
Roy comes closer, close enough to hear Riza shudder when she takes a deep breath. “Hesitating now, Lieutenant?”
Riza keeps her voice steady. “Not with you, Colonel.”
Roy grins to himself and leans in to kiss her neck. He breathes her in, drunk on the nearness of her, how she melts but doesn’t shy away from his lips or his fingers. Riza knows exactly what he wants to give her and what to give him, like she always has from the very first night they spent together. This is why he is taking it slow, and why he always comes back for more even though this gamble is unthinkable. He cannot come back down from the high of how she makes him feel.
There is no one else in the world who knows how to give him that, he thinks as he drags his mouth slowly up to her ear. There is no one but Riza, because there is no one else he trusts as deeply as she trusts him, no one else he wants night after night, no one else he—
Roy pulls away, frozen only for a moment by the sudden, overwhelming revelation in his mind. He sits back to take in the sight of Riza, this view that has never been quite as beautiful as it is now with all the clarity of what he truly feels beyond physical attraction, beneath the blissful distraction of being with her. It’s a wonder he has taken this long to realize what this all means to him, but he has never felt the need to count the ways that all those long nights together have felt right. He has never needed to consider his reasons, not for someone like Riza—in the life they have known together,  she is reason itself.
He returns to where he had been sitting and turns his cards over. The game cannot be over soon enough now. The night isn’t long enough for him to be around her, even if he knows they will find themselves entangled in each other again after this—how could he stay away from her?
Four-of-a-kind.
He waits patiently for Riza to reveal her hand. Two pair.
Another rush of heat overcomes Roy, but this time it begins in his chest before he feels it below. He realizes that there is very little clothing left on her, only her skirt and her undergarments; he has all but won this game. Riza leans back against the upholstered chair behind her in anticipation of what must come next. Roy isn’t sure what to make of it this time as he reaches for her, his hand buckling with the apprehension of not being able to feel her enough or give her what she deserves.
He shifts, and then he's on his knees before her, where every part of her is within reach. Roy begins by fiddling with the waistband of her skirt, tracing her hips, imagining how it will feel when she rocks them against him later. These curves are familiar to his hands, but then he decides that starting with her skirt isn’t good enough. His hands trail up and over her breasts, over the delicate lace that covers them, then up and under the straps on her shoulders. With a sharp breath, he pushes the straps carefully down to her arms, and he stops.
Seeing all of her isn’t good enough. They aren’t close enough, not even when he pulls her close to himself and feels her heartbeat matching his.
Never mind the bet—he can think of a far better prize than the one he has just won.
———
There are no words for the effect Roy has on her.
Riza is lost in the kiss, her head wandering away even from the thoughts of wanting him wherever she goes, of how these nights are easier than the nights she spends alone. There is nothing in the moment but their bodies, fitting into each other as they grow hungrier, unable to keep apart. She doesn’t even know where his hands are at this point, just that she needs him to keep touching her.
Then, something changes in the flame that flickers in their lips.
Roy’s hand finds her face, cradling her cheek as the kiss turns gentle. The sensation that has been growing in her chest settles elsewhere in her, impatient and impulsive. She reaches for his hand and pulls it down to her breast, and she pushes back into the kiss.
“Lieutenant—”
She stops him with her mouth, pulling him in to kiss again. The change she felt in their kiss was not instantaneous or unexpected. Every part of her that he has touched tonight hasn't stopped burning since, from her legs to her waist to her neck. She hadn’t expected that she would keep wanting more of it, or that the fire he had left on each spot would leave her with an unquenchable thirst. The more she feels it, the more each night that has come before tonight pales in comparison.
Before tonight, Riza would have wanted nothing more than to hear Roy say her name, to hear that what he feels for her runs deeper than their bodies are intertwined. She had hoped for it, waited for it time after time—she would have tricked herself into believing it even if he had said it as a lie. Tonight, it wouldn’t be enough to satisfy her.
Roy pulls away again, hands on both sides of her face. "Riza, I—”
“No—”
Again she pulls Roy back in, breathing heavily from restlessness, one hand gripping his shoulder and the other running through his hair. She steadies him there, not wanting him to stop for anything else now that he has spent time giving her something different, something more than what she has yearned for. Against his lips, Riza whispers, “Don’t call me that.”
“Riza—”
“Please.”
Roy draws a halting breath. “Lieutenant.”
And then they’re kissing again—Roy lets out a surprised, strangled sound as Riza bites his lower lip. There’s the spark she has spent the past few minutes chasing, the new urge Roy awakened in her by drawing out their poker game and delaying this moment. She can forget wanting him for this. She can abandon the feelings she mustn’t have if she can keep having this pleasure instead.
Riza keeps him close and the distance between them nonexistent until he gives in. Roy resumes caressing her all over, until at last he claims his prize for the bet, and what remains of her clothes fall to the floor. Suddenly, nothing exists to her except for the parts that he kisses and holds. She burns there and pulses and shudders as the cards and the rug and the rest of the room melt away.
When he whispers tenderly against her collarbone, she is far too deep in her bliss to hear what he tells her.
And tonight, Riza takes more than she would have given Roy on any other night. Their roles have been reversed with her wants placed before his, her hidden longing turned into a reckless hunger that is best satisfied skin to skin. These nights were once nothing but a guilty escape where Roy himself gave her an excuse to be his, but not tonight, perhaps not from now on. She cannot walk away, not from this, not from him—not from where their bodies have found a place in each other.
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ppurinpu · 6 months
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What if
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ppurinpu · 3 months
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After married photo studio 🥰
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ppurinpu · 6 months
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Last year’s royai halloween art 🎃
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ppurinpu · 4 months
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Riza Hawkeye 💛🦅
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ppurinpu · 6 months
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Royai’s kids from @rere_roy5827 (Twitter) idea
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P.s. Sorryy for nothingness here 🥲. I will try uploading again in tumblr
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ppurinpu · 2 years
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Hairstyle Meme ft. Riza Hawkeye! (template by @/Rintitty)
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ppurinpu · 2 years
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Details of Riza 💛🤍
Wedding Illustration: https://tmblr.co/ZrktjSbe5k5giu00
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ppurinpu · 2 years
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Gorgeous couple 🔥✨
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ppurinpu · 2 years
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They’re kissing under the rain
(I have the version without umbrella on my twitter account XD)
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ppurinpu · 2 years
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Royai Wedding Day 💙💛
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This is an illustration by me of @by-nina 's fic as one of the collaboration works from wonderful writers, artists, podficcers, and editors! 🥰😚💕✨
Nina's amazing flower interpretations has brought me to realize her beautiful ideas into this drawing 🌺🌻🌹🌷🌼🌸💐
Listen and read all the works here: 💕💕
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ppurinpu · 2 years
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AlMei taking photo together <3
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