#inspired by friends
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chasingmypen · 21 days ago
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"A moment of joy"
Sketched a friend + kitty
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wanna-be-bold · 2 years ago
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Grey when Tim comes back from meeting with Lucy: what the hell took you so long? I've been waiting for a status update
Tim: I was doing laundry with Lucy, keeping up the cover
Angela mysteriously from somewhere: laundry? Is that your code word for sex
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lcdrarry · 1 year ago
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11 May | LCDrarry Fic
Peep Show
Prompt: "Friends", 1994, TV Series Prompted by: @lettersbyelise Author: Anonymous Length: 10,120 words Rating: Explicit Warnings: None
Notes: Thank you to the LCDrarry mods for all their hard work. You deserve a billion kudos for putting on such a fantastic fest. Thanks to lettersbyelise for the delicious prompt! I knew it was meant to be the moment I saw it. And finally, thanks to my incredible betas, S and L! I could't have gotten it across the finish line without you.
Summary: Auror trainees Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy are maybe-possibly-sort-of friends. When Harry moves into the building next to Draco's, they become neighbours, too. Actually, Harry can see directly into Draco's flat from his window. And as it turns out, Draco gets up to some interesting things at night.
View it now on AO3.
Please help promote the fest by sharing your favourite submissions, so more people can enjoy all the amazing new Drarry works of LCDrarry. Thank you!
Creator reveals are on 15 June.
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writer-and-artist27 · 2 years ago
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Tumblr Short Story: "Unholy" Kisses
Summary: This is a day that never dawned, a night that never came to be. A time where a Master spoke up beyond her mortification, saying things that inevitably led to more earlier down the line.
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Note: This is probably the most “thirsty” story I’ve written in a hot minute (and that says something when I’m the ace and look at most thirst-related FGO artwork with a One Punch Man “okay” face), and I’m affectionately blaming Sebas/@exmeowstic for this due to his encouraging it. And also inspiring me with his recent commission artwork for Passing Days. Thankie, beloved friend.
Note that the following does have spoilers for the manga adaptation of Salem, as well as consist of an AU/alternate universe of Passing Days proper. Kinda like a “what if” scenario after the ending of Day 45, where specific things could’ve played out differently. With a lot more yearning and kissing mixed in. So. You’ve been forewarned. 
For a song to listen to, I recommend Kyle Landry’s 2021 piano cover of Dearly Beloved from Kingdom Hearts.
Please enjoy!
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“From what I’m aware of,” Sanson said with a face, giving Robin a look over Vy’s head, “your injuries aren’t serious enough to prevent you coming back into the troupe full-time. But I did have to apply stitches to your wounds, so at the moment, bedrest is a must, Archer.” 
“Of course,” Robin deadpanned, unable to keep the grimace off his face in spite of Vy continuing to cling to him with her arms around his neck as he patted the top of her head. “How’s Circe?”
“Working,” Sanson replied, turning back to the nightstand to start packing up his first-aid supplies. “Last I checked, there were still a few things she wanted to adjust within her workshop, so I imagine she wants to be left alone for now.” As a bottle of antiseptic went back into his duffel bag, Robin could hear the soft clink clink of the glass bumping something inside. “She was the one to bring you back here, after all.” 
No wonder the little sparrow was so worried. Robin glanced down at the brunette still hugging him with an internal sigh before returning Sanson’s gaze with a wry smile. “That explains things.” To Vy, he couldn’t help but raise his other arm to start rubbing comforting circles into her back, unable to ignore the growing wetness on his shoulder as she trembled against him. “Little sparrow,” he whispered, “I’m not going anywhere. You can let go now.”
To both his and Sanson’s surprise, Vy furiously shook her head, merely tightening her grip in the hug as she buried her face into his neck. “D-Don’t wanna,” is the mumbled response, sounding almost like a petulant child as she continued to have a bad case of the sniffles. “You w-worried me, you absolute dork…” 
“Vy…” 
“Which I understand your feelings, Master, all too well in fact,” Sanson put in, softer this time as he reached out to rest a hand against Vy’s shoulder, “but your clinging to him may make it harder for his stitches to stay in place. Is it alright if you could let him go now?”
By that point, Robin’s not sure whether to glare at Sanson or not as a soft “Ugu” tickles his neck, but Vy still loosens her grip on him as she pulls back from the hug. It didn’t stop him from feeling a nugget of guilt start to weigh down his stomach once he takes in the look on her face, and Sanson seems to notice it too, because he withdraws his hand in half the time it takes for Vy to sit back in her chair at Robin’s bedside, long brown hair shading her eyes. Tears still tellingly glisten from her cheeks and at Robin’s shoulder where she was crying, and the little sparrow proceeds to shakily reach into one of her pockets on her Standard Chaldean uniform. With another sniffle (not muffled this time), she pulls out a microfiber cloth, taking off her glasses to start wiping at the lenses with the small thing. “‘M… ‘m sorry,” comes out in a shaky wisp of a voice, hints of another sob climbing up her throat as she swallows thickly. “I… I…” 
“Vy,” Robin said softly, giving Sanson his own look before the Assassin could open his goddamn mouth again, “it’s okay.” 
Mid-wipe of her glasses, a few droplets fall onto the lenses past her fingers as Vy’s shoulders shake. “N-No, no, Robin, it’s not… it’s not…” A noise caught between a sob and a high-pitched wail then leaves her mouth, echoing in the room enough to make Sanson freeze in place as she shook her head. “It’s not okay, it’s just not…” 
Oh no, Robin thinks.
“I’ll…” Sanson gulps, looking more and more uncomfortable by the second as he zipped up his duffel bag, slowly backing away to grab his coat as he inched closer towards the door. “I’ll take my leave now. I… I can see I have intruded on what appears to be a private moment, so you two can hash things out, Archer,” he then adds hastily, his hand finding some kind of purchasing grip on the doorknob before throwing open the door. “Don’t push yourself, Master,” is all he leaves Vy in passing as the door closes behind him, locking in place with a very solid click, and by then, Robin is left alone with his little sparrow.
His crying, very upset little sparrow. 
Normally, Robin would’ve been pissed at Sanson leaving him to handle the work. But in this case, he couldn’t be bothered to even feel angry. 
Not with Vy still crying in front of him.
“Vy,” Robin tries softly, sitting up and scooting out of the bed some to extend an arm in her direction. “It’s not your fault I got hurt.”
“B-But I was the one who ordered you to go out there with Circe to investigate the Whateleys, Robin…” Vy shockingly clams up in response to his touch, folding her glasses in her palm to squeeze with the microfiber cloth like a gosh darn stress ball as she brings her knees up to her face. “I was the one to ask you to go out there, and you…” This time, there is a sob as she shrinks further into her own little ball. “You could’ve d-died.” 
And that’s the crux of the issue, isn’t it? Robin already knew Vy never liked seeing the people around her hurt. Heck, he knew things Sanson and the others didn’t thanks to their bond, from how she tried her best at everything, how she worked harder than anyone else just for the people she loved, even if it meant making a false image of being happy for her parents when they worried — forcing a smile for that aunt of hers who was still in the hospital for a cancer she wasn’t sure about when on a call before this whole mess of a Singularity. It didn’t make him feel any less guilty at knowing his calculated risk of a plan with Circe to face off against that fake-Lavinia ended up hurting her. Again, after what happened in SE.RA.PH too. And here he thought he was doing better at making it up to her. 
“‘M sorry,” Vy sobs before Robin could open his mouth, wiping at her eyes fiercely with her sleeve while refusing to move from her new burrow of her knees, even if it meant her tears were starting to darken part of her stockings. “‘M sorry I wasn’t… I wasn’t there for you… I—” 
“Hey.” Robin could feel his voice crack as he reached over, his hand finally finding some purchase in resting on top of her hair. “Hey, Vy. Don’t say that. That’s not it at all.” I could never blame you for a plan that went wrong. “I was the one who agreed to the plan. Besides, you did what you could, little sparrow, and it’s okay, really. Don’t clam up on me and just look at me, will you?”
Vy sniffled, but after a few more coaxing rubs of her head, she slowly peeked out past her wet stockings to meet his eye, and Robin couldn’t help the smile growing on his face as he reached over with his other arm to pull on her chair. Once the bottom half of the chair hit the mattress with a quiet thump noise, he reached out to her on instinct, ignoring his abdomen screaming at him from the bandages as his arms encircled her trembling form to pull her into him. Something small yet sharp was poking his waist, probably Vy’s glasses, but he couldn’t care less. Not right now.
“I’m still here, little sparrow,” he whispered, stroking her hair once her nose softly bumped his other, less wet shoulder. “I’m not dead yet. Just a bit mana-drained and hurt, that’s all. It’s not something we both can’t fix. So you don’t have to cry.”
Shaky hands reached up to press against his chest, a few more telling sniffles echoing into his neck as Vy slowly nodded. Then, to Robin’s surprise, she whispered, “S-So… if you got mana, you wouldn’t be as hurt right now?”
Robin blinked, pulling back some to let Vy wipe at her eyes with her sleeve as his muscles in his arms tensed. “I mean… yes?” Where are you going with this? 
Vy ducked her head, extending one arm to drop her glasses and microfiber cleaning cloth onto the nightstand where Sanson’s duffel bag once was in time with her taking a deep breath. In and out. From their closeness, Robin could feel her chest heave from the effort. “Th-Then…” her ears turned pink from what he could see past her hair as she scrubbed at her face with her other sleeve. Were her cheeks turning pink too? “What if… what if I kissed you?”
“…Uh.” It took Robin a moment too long to realize he choked on his own saliva. “What?”
Vy inhaled sharply. “I-I said… what if I kissed you?” She then raised her head to meet his gaze, and Robin knew he wasn’t mistaking the bright rosy hue of her cheeks as the color spread to her nose. Embarrassment and familiar hardy determination shined in her red-rimmed eyes, all the more clear without her glasses as she stared at him. “I-I heard from Da Vinci a while back how mages could transfer mana through the… the exchange of fluids,” she stammered, shaking her head but still scooting closer to him, her fingers bumping his. “A-And said fluids could be anything from blood to saliva to…”  Robin could then do nothing but watch as Vy covered her reddening face with both hands, shaking her head vigorously as she bit out, “Sexual fluids, and, and I thought saliva would be the safer option!” 
…She went there. She really went there. 
“Little sparrow,” left Robin in a voice he briefly couldn’t recognize as his own, “you don’t have to do that. Assassin stitched me up and bedrest is already on my agenda.”
“B-But!” Vy peeked at him through the cracks in her fingers, her brown eyes pleading now. Ack. “You’re still hurt, Robin…!” 
“That doesn’t make it permanent, little sparrow,” he says, and goddammit, now he’s blushing too. “You don’t have to push yourself for me.”
“But it’s you!” Vy blurts out next, making any protests on his tongue crumble away once her hands fall to her lap and make fistfuls of her skirt. “I-I know, I know kissing without consent is considered sexual harassment, but it’s still you, you’re still hurt, and…” Vy shuts her eyes tight, enough for a stray tear to form in one corner (from her previous crying, no doubt) and slowly trickle down her red cheeks as he watches. “I don’t want to lose you, Big Robin. Even if I… I’ve never kissed someone ever, I’d rather kiss you if it meant not losing you. If it meant letting you live.” 
Now what could he possibly say to that? To his little sparrow, with her shaking shoulders and fidgeting hands, basically offering herself to him on a metaphorical silver platter?
Robin exhaled a breath he didn’t need, feeling sweat start to form on the back of his neck as he considered. Da Vinci, Arturia, Achilles, and some of the other Servants back home definitely would have his head in the end if things went wrong (and really, what could be more wrong than what was going on now?), but, at a time like this— 
“Okay,” he relented weakly. “Let’s do it.” 
“…Huh?”
“Hey.” Robin reached over to take one of Vy’s hands in his to squeeze, unable to hide the weak grin forming on his face as he met her eyes. “It’s not sexual harassment if I consent to it, right?”
“Um,” Vy blinks, her cheeks turning redder by the minute. “Yes? I-I mean, I think so?”
How did I fall in love with such a clumsy little sparrow like you? A traitorous part of him thinks. Outwardly, he chuckles, tugging on her hand so that she’s leaning into him now. Her hands are pressing against his chest as his other hand slowly cups her cheek. “Then let me take the lead this time,” leaves him in a huff of a breath, unable to hide the delight starting to bubble up in his throat at the sight of Vy’s eyes reflecting his image alone in time with her cheeks turning rosier with his slow closing of the distance. “You’re shaking too much, Vy.” 
“I-I’m sorry…” But Vy still leans into his palm, her cute pink lips parting some as her eyelashes fluttered at him. “I know I said what I said, but I-I really don’t have any experience with this…”
“Then close your eyes, little sparrow,” he whispers, his thumb rubbing at the corner of her eye where that one tear once was, wiping at it with all the care a ghost of a man like him could give. “I’ve got you.” An inch away from doing the deed, he finishes with a faint, “Stop me with a Command Seal if you ever feel uncomfortable.”
Vy still lets out a sound close to a whimper once his lips gently press against hers, but she doesn’t clam up like before. If anything, she tenses up just a bit, frozen as he moves his mouth against hers, but her hands aren’t pushing him away. To his surprise, they’re trembling against his chest, weakly clutching at some of his bandages and even the chain to his silver necklace around his neck for some kind of relief (or maybe to cling to him?) to match her timid demeanor. It’s a mild kiss, not nearly enough to exchange saliva like she probably intended to, especially considering it’s just a light press of mouths to begin with, but it’s soft and faintly sweet. In all honesty, Robin wanted the gesture to last for a single moment — not too long so that Vy could regain her composure, but when pulling back and looking at her red face, something inside him somehow snapped. 
So cute… 
A soft “Wah!” is then muffled between them as Robin leaned up to press his lips to Vy’s again, and this time, he swallows the noise in its entirety as he opens his mouth to trace her own with his tongue. She shivers even through the palm he has on her cheek, shyly opening her mouth after he rubs a coaxing line into her back with his other hand, and then her tongue carefully touches his. It’s just as shy when it comes to moving around, but Robin can’t help the smile he has going on mid-kiss because his taste buds finally get a taste of what he’s been dreaming about. 
Sweet. Just like maple syrup. Did Mata Hari make pancakes for Vy’s breakfast? 
Vy lets out another noise as he continues the kiss, something along the lines of a surprised “Ah!” this time. Her grip on his bandages and necklace weakens as she goes on to melt into his arms, the energy seemingly leaving her body as she leans into him. Her fingertips gently brush the skin along his collarbone a second later, making his heart jump when it didn’t need to, and so he can’t help the hand he has on her back moving to her waist to pull her down with him to the bed. Once his head hits the pillows behind him, he can feel her long brown hair tickle his cheeks as energy surged through his veins, the kiss barely stopping for breath because he finally got a taste and it’s not enough. 
My little sparrow… 
“B-Big Robin…” Vy squeaks (something along the lines of an embarrassed “Fwah—!”) once he pulls back and then his lips inevitably find hers again, interrupting her attempt at a sentence as the palm on her cheek moved, cupping the back of her head to keep her close for as long as he could savor it. Her weight doesn’t feel heavy against his abdomen as electricity tickles the back of his brain, his bandages for once not screaming at him as she leans against them, her chest pressing against his to the point he could feel how soft it was. Her tongue is pliant as he tugs at it with his own, the heat of her cheeks starting to warm his with the closeness as he tilted his head the other way. It’s not even a question of whether saliva is being exchanged anymore — every passing second has more mana running through his arteries and Vy is still kissing him back. 
It takes Vy letting out another whimper for a shred of Robin’s common sense to come back, but it doesn’t last long once he breaks the kiss (was it the third? Or the fourth?) to take in the shininess of her lips and the bright red rosiness of her cheeks. 
This little sparrow of mine… 
Robin doesn’t realize he’s hastily unbuttoning the collar of Vy’s Standard Chaldean uniform until Vy’s eyes are wide open and she’s squeaking again, but he doesn’t regret pushing her hair back and pressing his lips to the column of her exposed neck where he could feel her pulse, nipping there some with his teeth to encourage more noises out of her throat. A little “Nn” here, an embarrassed “Ah!” there. They made up such a unique little song, just for him. It all sounded so cute, so irresistible, he really couldn’t help it. Plus Sanson locked the door, so he could do that much.
Despite his True Name, Robin Hood was still a petty bowman who could fall to the charms of a lovely young lady. And the young lady in his arms, Vy — it was still his little sparrow. His and his alone. 
A small red mark lingers on Vy’s skin once Robin’s given her neck enough attention through so many trails of kisses, and looking up revealed Vy staring at him with wide and teary eyes past her curtain of brown hair. “Th… that wasn’t part of what Da Vinci told me,” she whispered, but the tiny smile and the little bit of embarrassed joy leaking through their bond reveals she’s not averse to it either. “But um… Robin?”
Robin grinned, moistening his lips with a swipe of his tongue. “Yeah?” 
“Uh.” Vy blushes, her hands still pressing against his bandaged chest and collarbone. “Could you… could you kiss me again? O-On the lips, I mean? You still look hurt…”
What an excuse. I can’t even feel the stitches anymore.
With a chuckle, Robin sat up on the bed to take Vy into his lap, retracting the hand he had on her head to rest it against her chin, his thumb unable to help itself from tracing her bottom lip. It was a little swollen compared to before, but it was still so soft and pink and cute. “Be careful with those words, little sparrow. You’ll be eaten up by the big bad wolf at this rate…” 
“N-Not if it’s you, Big Robin…” she insists, but she still closes her eyes and leans into his touch as he ducks his head to kiss her again. “I-I think I’d only want you anyways…” 
Well, damn. Robin already knew if Abby walked in, the scene he’d be making with his Ringmaster would probably look “unholy.” But at this point, with Vy shivering in his arms and being oh so receptive to a former bandit taking her first kiss and then some, he couldn’t find himself caring much. The atmosphere was growing hotter, the air was getting stickier, and Vy was tasting sweeter. 
And hey. Even a bowman like him could take some pleasure in tangling his fingers up in his little sparrow’s brown hair to pull her closer for more breath. More of her taste, more of her tongue, more of her lips when he never got such a delight out of them before. It honestly made him wonder why he didn’t kiss her sooner, because nothing in his time alive really compared to this. His old policy of “no strings attached” be damned — it weighed nothing compared to feeling his own Maid Marian melt against him, making noises only he could hear thanks to his actions. 
“R-Robin…” Vy’s hands tug at his necklace this time. “Th-The others might come in later if we’re not careful…”
With another press of his lips to hers, Robin shrugged. “That’s what my cloak is for, isn’t it?”
“M-Muuu…” Her tongue still weakly reaches out to intertwine with his once he dives back in. “D-Dork…” 
“Love you too.” 
“Muu—ah!” And oh, Robin liked the sound of that one. He should nip at her neck more often.
In yet another kiss, Robin absently decided to bandage up Vy’s neck later so that no one would ask questions. Those marks were his and his alone, and no one else had to know. That was that.
Knowing his little sparrow, she wouldn’t mind talking it out. Probably. 
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canisalbus · 2 months ago
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Trying to figure out modern Ludovica.
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emilybraydenblogs · 2 months ago
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I confuse people. i have a happy personality and a sad soul. i'm bold but shy. i love deeply but sometimes i feel heartless. i'm healing and hurting at the same time. i'm dedicated to growth, but i self sabotage
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daigah · 1 year ago
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"Nice characters are boring" to YOU. I love characters who no matter what, will always have genuine love for humanity in their heart. Characters who dance and laugh and sing with sincerity. Characters who believe in others, and are willing to extend a helping hand to people when no one gave them the same luxury. Characters who have gone through so much but believe, no matter what, that humanity and life is something beautiful and worth protecting
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thisiswhereikeepdcthings · 5 months ago
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Robin!Dick: And that’s why there should be a team of young heroes!
Bruce: They all have their own cities and-
Dick: And it’s important to make friends.
Bruce, recalling every parenting book he has: Hrn.
Dick: That was the agreeing grunt which means you know I’m right. I need to practice making friends.
Bruce: You have friends and-
Dick: And I need to get in LOTS of practice now so I can have friends when I’m old like you.
Bruce, age 28:
Bruce:
Bruce: I have friends.
Dick: *snorts*
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jzargo · 7 months ago
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"oh Astarion is SOOOO effeminate" wrong. You are judging Astarion by human genders. Astarion is first and foremost a high elf and by high elf standards he is actually INCREDIBLY masc. Other high elves look at him and he reminds them of that one annoying straight guy in their elf-economics (elfenomics if you will) class in elf-college who loved playing devil's advocate. And then they see him kiss a guy and they almost die of shock.
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renthony · 2 years ago
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Your personal triggers and squicks do not get to determine what kind of art other people make.
People make shit. It's what we do. We make shit to explore, to inspire, to explain, to understand, but also to cope, to process, to educate, to warn, to go, "hey, wouldn't that be fucked up? Wild, right?"
Yes, sure, there are things that should be handled with care if they are used at all. But plenty more things are subjective. Some things are just not going to be to your tastes. So go find something that is to your tastes and stop worrying so much about what other people are doing and trying to dictate universal moral precepts about art based on your personal triggers and squicks.
I find possession stories super fucking triggering if I encounter them without warning, especially if they function as a sexual abuse metaphor. I'm not over here campaigning for every horror artist to stop writing possession stories because they make me feel shaky and dissociated. I just check Does The Dog Die before watching certain genres, and I have my husband or roommate preview anything I think might upset me so they can give me more detail. And if I genuinely don't think I can't handle it, I don't watch it. It's that simple.
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chasingmypen · 2 months ago
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A tribute to my best friend.
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vespertilionis · 2 months ago
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Tim: “Hey, where’s that scar from? I don’t remember you ever being in any fights that would cause that type of injury.”
Dick: “It’s something I prefer not to talk about. My memory of it is blurred anyway, so I couldn’t tell you if I wanted to—“
Jason, who got into their coms channel a few seconds ago: “HE GOT NAILED IN THE FACE DURING PE!”
Dick: “…How about we focus back on the stakeout.”
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tedcruzisthezodiackiller · 8 months ago
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3rdsday · 4 months ago
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Tommy basically said "the DSMP was good because it was, and still is, loved" and that basically sums up my feelings on the matter too.
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pen-of-roses · 1 year ago
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Do y'all ever think about how cool it is that art inspires other art inspires other art inspires other art in an endless cycle
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edalynn-ink · 5 months ago
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This came to me in a dream
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