YOUR SUN IS LITERALLY SO CUTE I AM SCREAMING 💛💛💛💛
AA TYSM!! YOU'RE SO KIND 💞💥💥‼️😭🤧
(This is the first time I've drawn him in months ouufghh </3)
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I've realised that I've never directly promoted my fanfic here so here's a doodle from today's chapter and a snippet under the cut ^^
Sun oh so elegantly rips a sheet of paper out and lays it on the desk in front of you, pushing it to your chest with his index and middle finger. He then proceeds to open up his chest compartment and pull out a couple of arts and crafts supplies, while he works to set things up, you can spot a plush of him, the one you bought him, sitting politely in one of his woven paper crates with it's arm almost detached from its body. Before you have time to comment on it, Sun’s already finished his work, clapping to gain your attention as he stands proudly over his colourful display.
“Oh, what to draw, what to draw!” Sun leans over the desk with his back arched as he props himself up on his elbows, one hand tapping at his cheek in false thought “Friend, I'm sure you're well aware of the masterpiece in front of you, no? Have a hand at replacing perfection.” He rests his head in his hands as he offers his suggestion. You assume Sun's growing more confident after being buttered up by all your, admittedly terrible, compliments.
“You want me to draw you?” You ask, causing Sun to scoff at your words, their rays twitching slightly.
“A mere suggestion, that's all. You're free to draw whatever you want.” Sun replies defensively, like he totally wasn't alluding to it or whatever.
You vaguely wonder if Sun would prefer a cutesy simplified drawing of him or one that captures his ugly mug in all its horrific glory. You stretch your drawing muscles in preparation for an absolute masterpiece! You scrawl skilled lines over the paper in a shrimp backed position, each flick of the wrist carefully calculated for perfection. Sun, your distinct looking muse, stares in mild confusion as you work your magic. After a solid 15 minutes of work, your magnum opus is complete! A frankly demonic illustration of Sun lies in front of you in all its glitter glue covered glory.
Sun gracefully plucks the undignified portrait of him from your hands, and turns it around to observe it, stretching and standing to his full height, with an accepting hum before crumpling it up and shoving it in his chest compartment, in the same crate that his plush was in, “Management confiscated my shredder.” You stare at him with a ‘why the fuck did you have a shredder’ expression, “All artworks created in the daycare are property of Fazbear entertainment.” Sun recites some clearly well worn company policy “Now, we wouldn't want our little stars to walk home with company property, would we?” You shrug, not really getting it but not wanting to fight Sun on a rule he was probably programmed with.
Humming in satisfaction, Sun rips out another sheet for you before smoothing moving into a new, more extravagant, pose. He stands at an angle to you, leaning back as he rests an elbow on the desk in front of you and dramatically raises his other hand to cover his face in mock anguish. He's really getting into it, you are too. You carve your very essence into your work, lines flow together elegantly like a visual melody. When your grand performance is complete, Sun harvests your will and makes it one with his; crumpling your drawing into a little ball and putting it in his chest compartment. The dance you share of you drawing Sun and him crumpling your work up continues for hours, it's the most fun you've had with Sun, which is to say, the only time you've had fun with Sun.
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