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#things i do in my free time
pennyngram · 5 months
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Every single Darcy ever.
1938, Andrew Osborn
1940, Lord Olivier
1952, Peter Cushing
1958, Alan Badel
1967, Lewis Fiander
1980, David Rintoul
1995, Colin Firth
2003, Orlando Seale (the one with the Mormons)
2004, Martin Henderson (Bride and Prejudice)
2005, Matthew MacFadyen
2008, Elliot Cowan (Lost in Austen)
2012, Daniel Vincent Gordh (The Lizzie Bennet Diaries)
2013, Matthew Rhys (Death comes to Pemberley)
2016, Sam Riley (Pride and Prejudice and Zombies)
2016, Chase Connor (Before the Fall, not featured as I wasn't able to find a decent picture)
2016 & 2018, Ryan Paevey (Unleashing Mr Darcy & Marrying Mr Darcy, not featured as I remembered these movies only after creating the infographic ops)
2022, Conrad Ricamora (Fire Island)
I'm not counting Bridget Jones since it doesn't market itself as having ties to P&P
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inkskinned · 10 months
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at some point it's just like. do they even fucking like the thing they're asking AI to make? "oh we'll just use AI for all the scripts" "we'll just use AI for art" "no worries AI can write this book" "oh, AI could easily design this"
like... it's so clear they've never stood in the middle of an art museum and felt like crying, looking at a piece that somehow cuts into your marrow even though the artist and you are separated by space and time. they've never looked at a poem - once, twice, three times - just because the words feel like a fired gun, something too-close, clanging behind your eyes. they've never gotten to the end of the movie and had to arrive, blinking, back into their body, laughing a little because they were holding their breath without realizing.
"oh AI can mimic style" "AI can mimic emotion" "AI can mimic you and your job is almost gone, kid."
... how do i explain to you - you can make AI that does a perfect job of imitating me. you could disseminate it through the entire world and make so much money, using my works and my ideas and my everything.
and i'd still keep writing.
i don't know there's a word for it. in high school, we become aware that the way we feel about our artform is a cliche - it's like breathing. over and over, artists all feel the same thing. "i write because i need to" and "my music is how i speak" and "i make art because it's either that or i stop existing." it is such a common experience, the violence and immediacy we mean behind it is like breathing to me - comes out like a useless understatement. it's a cliche because we all feel it, not because the experience isn't actually persistent. so many of us have this ... fluttering urgency behind our ribs.
i'm not doing it for the money. for a star on the ground in some city i've never visited. i am doing it because when i was seven i started taking notebooks with me on walks. i am doing it because in second grade i wrote a poem and stood up in front of my whole class to read it out while i shook with nerves. i am doing it because i spent high school scribbling all my feelings down. i am doing it for the 16 year old me and the 18 year old me and the today-me, how we can never put the pen down. you can take me down to a subatomic layer, eviscerate me - and never find the source of it; it is of me. when i was 19 i named this blog inkskinned because i was dramatic and lonely and it felt like the only thing that was actually permanently-true about me was that this is what is inside of me, that the words come up over everything, coat everything, bloom their little twilight arias into every nook and corner and alley
"we're gonna replace you". that is okay. you think that i am writing to fill a space. that someone said JOB OPENING: Writer Needed, and i wrote to answer. you think one raindrop replaces another, and i think they're both just falling. you think art has a place, that is simply arrives on walls when it is needed, that is only ever on demand, perfect, easily requested. you see "audience spending" and "marketability" and "multi-line merch opportunity"
and i see a kid drowning. i am writing to make her a boat. i am writing because what used to be a river raft has long become a fully-rigged ship. i am writing because you can fucking rip this out of my cold dead clammy hands and i will still come back as a ghost and i will still be penning poems about it.
it isn't even love. the word we use the most i think is "passion". devotion, obsession, necessity. my favorite little fact about the magic of artists - "abracadabra" means i create as i speak. we make because it sluices out of us. because we look down and our hands are somehow already busy. because it was the first thing we knew and it is our backbone and heartbreak and everything. because we have given up well-paying jobs and a "real life" and the approval of our parents. we create because - the cliche again. it's like breathing. we create because we must.
you create because you're greedy.
#every time someones like ''AI will replace u" im like. u will have to fucking KILL ME#there is no replacement here bc i am not filling a position. i am just writing#and the writing is what i need to be doing#writeblr#this probably doesn't make sense bc its sooo frustrating i rarely speak it the way i want to#edited for the typo wrote it and then was late to a meeting lol#i love u people who mention my typos genuinely bc i don't always catch them!!!! :) it is doing me a genuine favor!!!#my friend says i should tell you ''thank you beta editors'' but i don't know what that means#i made her promise it isn't a wolf fanfiction thing. so if it IS a wolf thing she is DEAD to me (just kidding i love her)#hey PS PS PS ??? if ur reading this thinking what it's saying is ''i am financially capable of losing this'' ur reading it wrong#i write for free. i always have. i have worked 5-7 jobs at once to make ends meet.#i did not grow up with access or money. i did not grow up with connections or like some kind of excuse#i grew up and worked my fucking ASS OFF. and i STILL!!! wrote!!! on the side!!! because i didn't know how not to!!!#i do not write for money!!!! i write because i fuckken NEED TO#i could be in the fucking desert i could be in the fuckken tundra i could be in total darkness#and i would still be writing pretentious angsty poetry about it#im not in any way saying it's a good thing. i'm not in any way implying that they're NOT tryna kill us#i'm saying. you could take away our jobs and we could go hungry and we could suffer#and from that suffering (if i know us) we'd still fuckin make art.#i would LOVE to be able to make money doing this! i never have been able to. but i don't NEED to. i will find a way to make my life work#even if it means being miserable#but i will not give up this thing. for the whole world.
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lazylittledragon · 1 month
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mombin™ has me in a CHOKEHOLD right now
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mumblesplash · 5 months
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in honor of last season’s poem being called “”end poem”” (all quotes mandatory) this season i made one out of pieces of the actual end poem
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some misc Barn & Wally doodles from the past week or so <3 i heart them
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egophiliac · 4 months
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happy new year Ego!!! Just wanted to let you know that I absolutely adore your twst fanart and the tags are just an absolute pleasure to read! You are my greatest inspiration for my personal twst art and I just wanted to thank you for your wonderful masterpieces <333 if possible, may I ask what are some of your headcanons for the diasomnia family? If not for diasomnia then any other characters are fine as well!
thank you, and happy new year! 💚💜💚 that is amazing to hear; it's always a little bewildering but super flattering that other people like my silly little doodles so much!
I don't think I really have any really solid headcanons and also canon keeps validating me left and right (FLUFFY DOMESTIC DIAFAM IS REAL). mostly just kind of...impressions and general thoughts, if that makes sense! lately though I've been kind of obsessed with thinking about Lilia's hair, and specifically when/why he ended up cutting it. (l-look, we're bouncing around the timeline and I gotta make decisions about these things when I draw, it's relevant) (I mean I would probably be weirdly fixated on this anyway, but.)
I think I've settled on the idea that he kept it long until he went to NRC, partly because 1) I like drawing The Ponytail, and 2) I think he thought of NRC as a chance to reinvent himself a bit! he gets to go and be a wacky carefree teenager for a few years and have fun! (officially he's there to keep an eye on Son #1, but how much trouble could he get into, really.) so he gave himself a Cool Teen Haircut to go with his fresh new Cool Teen Persona!
also maybe he had some reflection on his hair's troubled past with three kids...
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...and had to weigh his vanity versus the fact that he was going off to be around hundreds of kids on a daily basis, and. the choice suddenly seemed obvious.
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#art#twisted wonderland#twisted wonderland spoilers#twisted wonderland episode 7 spoilers#twisted wonderland episode 7 part 6 spoilers#twisted wonderland book 7 spoilers#twisted wonderland book 7 part 6 spoilers#this is my blog and i'm going to write a million words about lilia and you can't stop me#but anyway i do genuinely get the impression that he's using Pretending to Be a Teenager as a chance to be even sillier than usual#he's a very silly man he's just being EXTRA silly#supported by his recent birthday card where he says he was specifically trying to cast himself as an adorable little brother-type#because he wanted the other students to give him free shit and save him seats and things like that#it worked for about a week before he turned out to be way too good at stuff and everyone just kind of ended up in awe of him instead#and he was like DANGIT. I'VE RUINED IT FOR MYSELF.#(then he and epel went on to talk about their hypothetical vtubersonas because the birthday cards are INSANE but anyway)#i'm bad at headcanons :( sorry!#unless it's dumb things like...what pokemon they would have or whatever#(malleus would have some kind of special fancy-colored dragapult) (but i digress)#i have a hard time putting things into words. just know that i love the grampa bat and his weird kids very much.#my brain is also still kind of fried from the last couple of weeks#i am however starting 2024 off the way i intend to continue it: in deep contemplation of anime hair#(sorry if these look weirdly aliased) (i realized about 3/4 of the way through i was using the wrong brush and i didn't want to restart :U)
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poorly-drawn-mdzs · 10 days
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Reasons to play In Stars and Time: Canon Pronoun Warfare.
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deanmarywinchester · 8 months
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i like this substack article I found while googling jamie loftus’s book on hotdogs. it’s like a poem on the subject of “you can do whatever you want forever” to me
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tubbytarchia · 2 months
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For the ranchers a bit more shleep i just really like charakters comfy and nice:Dc /nf
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Eepies. Jimmy woke up to really sore wings but its okay because Tango
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drenched-in-sunlight · 2 months
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HAL 826 Walter / V.IX 621
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puppetmaster13u · 2 months
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Prompt 238
"Ugh. There's a group at the barrier again." Star squinted over the buildings they were all sprawled on almost lazily. "Seriously? I thought the GIW would have given up by now since there's 'no more humans' here," Sam's voice was sarcastic as she combed claws through her hair. The others grumbled in agreement, Valerie spreading her wings in a stretch. "Who wants to bet Danny is already about to crash their intrusion?" "Hah! I bet Dash is there already to video it!" "Those are both suckers bets," Wes scoffed, clear eyelid closing over his eyes and temporarily dimming the glow. "Let's be honest, Paulina has already left, she's going to get there first."
- - -
The GIW have been having a bit of trouble. Maybe just a bit. See, they were supposed to be taking care of the ecto-entities. Studying them, y'know? But er, some earlier agents had been a bit trigger happy, which meant the entities were well... aggressive. And a city full of dragon-fae-beings disliking any presence wearing white was rather terrifying, so they... might have gotten permission to bring a hero with them. For protection of course. ... Hopefully no one dies-
Feel free to ignore any of these pics lol, they're just ideas.
Order: Jazz, Danny, Tucker, Sam, Valerie, Wes, Dash, Kwan, Paulina, Star, Ellie, Dan
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inkskinned · 7 months
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the thing about art is that it was always supposed to be about us, about the human-ness of us, the impossible and beautiful reality that we (for centuries) have stood still, transfixed by music. that we can close our eyes and cry about the same book passage; the events of which aren't real and never happened. theatre in shakespeare's time was as real as it is now; we all laugh at the same cue (pursued by bear), separated hundreds of years apart.
three years ago my housemates were jamming outdoors, just messing around with their instruments, mostly just making noise. our neighbors - shy, cautious, a little sheepish - sat down and started playing. i don't really know how it happened; i was somehow in charge of dancing, barefoot and laughing - but i looked up, and our yard was full of people. kids stacked on the shoulders of parents. old couples holding hands. someone had brought sidewalk chalk; our front walk became a riot of color. someone ran in with a flute and played the most astounding solo i've ever heard in my life, upright and wiggling, skipping as she did so. she only paused because the violin player was kicking his heels up and she was laughing too hard to continue.
two weeks ago my friend and i met in the basement of her apartment complex so she could work out a piece of choreography. we have a language barrier - i'm not as good at ASL as i'd like to be (i'm still learning!) so we communicate mostly through the notes app and this strange secret language of dancers - we have the same movement vocabulary. the two of us cracking jokes at each other, giggling. there were kids in the basement too, who had been playing soccer until we took up the far corner of the room. one by one they made their slow way over like feral cats - they laid down, belly-flat against the floor, just watching. my friend and i were not in tutus - we were in slouchy shirts and leggings and socks. nothing fancy. but when i asked the kids would you like to dance too? they were immediately on their feet and spinning. i love when people dance with abandon, the wild and leggy fervor of childhood. i think it is gorgeous.
their adults showed up eventually, and a few of them said hey, let's not bother the nice ladies. but they weren't bothering us, they were just having fun - so. a few of the adults started dancing awkwardly along, and then most of the adults. someone brought down a better sound system. someone opened a watermelon and started handing out slices. it was 8 PM on a tuesday and nothing about that day was particularly special; we might as well party.
one time i hosted a free "paint along party" and about 20 adults worked quietly while i taught them how to paint nessie. one time i taught community dance classes and so many people showed up we had to move the whole thing outside. we used chairs and coatracks to balance. one time i showed up to a random band playing in a random location, and the whole thing got packed so quickly we had to open every door and window in the place.
i don't think i can tell you how much people want to be making art and engaging with art. they want to, desperately. so many people would be stunning artists, but they are lied to and told from a very young age that art only matters if it is planned, purposeful, beautiful. that if you have an idea, you need to be able to express it perfectly. this is not true. you don't get only 1 chance to communicate. you can spend a lifetime trying to display exactly 1 thing you can never quite language. you can just express the "!!??!!!"-ing-ness of being alive; that is something none of us really have a full grasp on creating. and even when we can't make what we want - god, it feels fucking good to try. and even just enjoying other artists - art inherently rewards the act of participating.
i wasn't raised wealthy. whenever i make a post about art, someone inevitably says something along the lines of well some of us aren't that lucky. i am not lucky; i am dedicated. i have a chronic condition, my hands are constantly in pain. i am not neurotypical, nor was i raised safe. i worked 5-7 jobs while some of these memories happened. i chose art because it mattered to me more than anything on this fucking planet - i would work 80 hours a week just so i could afford to write in 3 of them.
and i am still telling you - if you are called to make art, you are called to the part of you that is human. you do not have to be good at it. you do not have to have enormous amounts of privilege. you can just... give yourself permission. you can just say i'm going to make something now and then - go out and make it. raquel it won't be good though that is okay, i don't make good things every time either. besides. who decides what good even is?
you weren't called to make something because you wanted it to be good, you were called to make something because it is a basic instinct. you were taught to judge its worth and over-value perfection. you are doing something impossible. a god's ability: from nothing springs creation.
a few months ago i found a piece of sidewalk chalk and started drawing. within an hour i had somehow collected a small classroom of young children. their adults often brought their own chalk. i looked up and about fifteen families had joined me from around the block. we drew scrangly unicorns and messed up flowers and one girl asked me to draw charizard. i am not good at drawing. i basically drew an orb with wings. you would have thought i drew her the mona lisa. she dragged her mother over and pointed and said look! look what she drew for me and, in the moment, i admit i flinched (sorry, i don't -). but the mother just grinned at me. he's beautiful. and then she sat down and started drawing.
someone took a picture of it. it was in the local newspaper. the summary underneath said joyful and spontaneous artwork from local artists springs up in public gallery. in the picture, a little girl covered in chalk dust has her head thrown back, delighted. laughing.
#writeblr#warm up#this is longer than i wanted i really considered removing that part about myself and what i went thru#but i think it really fucking bothers me that EVERY time i talk about being an artist#ppl assume i just like. had the skill and ability to drop everything and pay for grad school.#like sir i grew up poor. my house wasn't a safe space. i gave up a FREE RIDE TO LAW SCHOOL. for THIS. bc i chose it.#was it fucking hard? was i choosing the hard thing?? yes.#but we need to stop seeing artists as lazy layabouts that can ''afford'' to just ''sit around and create''#when MANY - if not MOST - of us are NOT like that. we have to work our fucking ASSES off. hard work. long and hard work#part of valuing artists is recognizing the amount we sacrifice to make our art. bc it doesn't just#like HAPPEN to us. also btw it rarely has anything to do with true talent.#speaking as someone with a chronic condition i hate when ppl are like u have it easy. like actively as i'm writing this my hands r#ACTIVELY hurting me. i haven't been posting bc my left hand was curled in a claw for the last week#this isn't fucking luck. after a certain point it's not even TALENT. it's dedication & sacrifice.#''u get to flounce around and do nothing with ur life'' is a narrative that is a direct result of capitalism#imagine if we said that about literally any other profession.#''oh so u give up 10 yrs of ur life to be a doctor? u sacrifice having a social life and u get SUPER in debt?#u need to work countless hours and it will often be thankless? well i wish i was that lucky''#we should be applying that logic to landlords ONLY#''oh ur mom and dad gave u the money to buy a house? and all u did was paint it white and rent it? huh.''
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minty364 · 1 month
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DPXDC Prompt #108 Part 2
The thought sounded ridiculous and yet Damian found himself unable to completely scoff at the idea. He himself had seen some strange things in his lifetime and it wouldn’t be fair to completely dismiss the idea outright. 
“I’m unsure what your point is but I guess I suppose they exist.” Damian eventually said.
Danny chuckled at this, “I guess you're not from Amity Park huh?” he joked.
Damian scoffed, “I’ve never even heard of that place but I gather that’s where I am at the moment?” He mentally filed the name to search later. 
“Yeah, born and raised. Anyways, we’re the most haunted city in America. Ghost’s are real, you’ll probably meet one at some point. They’re uh… kind of attracted to me? Kind of like… “ He trailed off for a moment, likely lost in thought trying to come up with an example. Damian was going to call him out for spacing, they were probably running out of time before one of his siblings or Pennyworth came to check on him. Luckily Danny continued, “Hey, what city am I in right now, maybe there’s a comparison I can use?” Danny asked.
“Tt, did you not even think to use GPS to find your location before calling me?” Damian scoffed, his supposed ‘soulmate’ was incompetent, “You're in Gotham.”
“Gotham? Well I guess you could compare them to Batman’s rogues then, however they tend to play a little rough. It’s kind of how ghost’s bond.” Danny’s explanation made it sound like he was the one roughhousing with these ghosts. He wasn’t quite sure where this was going but he let him continue, “so well… this next part’s kind of hard to explain especially without proof but well… I’m what the other ghost’s call a halfa. I’m half ghost half human.”
Damian opened his mouth to retort, the notion that you could be half dead was ridiculous really. But as soon as he opened his mouth a cold blue wisp wafted out of his mouth shocking him. An unfamiliar feeling washes over him and he looked down in terror as he started sinking into the bed.
“Explain your power’s now, I appear to be sinking into your bed.” Damian demanded. The feeling was odd, it was almost as if the bed didn’t exist. 
“Uh, right, Okay… so, it’s kind of emotion based? Take a few deep breaths and you’ll be able to ease yourself back out.” 
Damian did just as Danny instructed and took a few deep breaths. Soon he was able to solidify and sit back up on the bed. Suddenly, a knocking sound was heard through the phone. 
Shit, just like he thought, they took too long and one of his siblings came to check on him. He thought it was sweet that they cared, but he’d never voice this thought out loud to anyone. 
“Danny, I need you to listen very carefully. I need you to open the door and hand the phone over to them. Don’t say anything, understand?” 
“Uh Okay?” Damian could tell Danny was raising an eyebrow at this but he did as Damian told him anyway.
“Uh, Hello?” The voice on the phone said, Damian recognized it as Tim Drake-Waynes. 
“Drake, Please step into the room and listen to my instructions,” Damian waited a moment as he heard the door shut. “Alright, meet my soulmate Danny, apparently his parents study soulmates and they did something and now we’re in each other’s bodies.”
He heard Danny sigh, “It was only supposed to strengthen the soulmate pull. It’s not my fault they don’t know about my weird biology.” 
“Weird Biology?” Drake parroted, “do they not know you're a meta?”
There was a pause before Danny spoke, “No, I’m not a meta… but for the simplicity of things, and this conversation, sure, you can call me a meta.” There was a tiredness to his voice, as if he had this conversation with someone else before.
“The name’s Tim,” he told Danny, then Drake suddenly said in an excited voice, “hey, let’s let him in on the family secret and prank Bruce. Let’s tell everyone else about it and see how long it takes him to figure out it isn’t you… we’ll have to train Danny of course. If he really is your soulmate he’s going to find out eventually and it might be good to prepare him ahead of time” The idea sounded ridiculous to Damian but at the same time, he was recently having some doubts about his Father’s attention on him. Drake had a point, if Danny really was his soulmate, he’d find out eventually. 
__________________________
Danny wasn’t sure what was going on, after he handed the phone off to Tim, they talked about some family secret. Soon Tim hung up the phone and turned to Danny, “Damian say’s Sam and Tucker are there and they’ll call back when he’s back up to speed which means that we need to get up to speed ourselves,” he glared at Danny. Danny, who was still wearing Pajamas stood there as Tim approached him. Once they were a yard apart Tim spoke again, “Listen, the secret I’m about to tell you must not be told to anyone outside of this house, got it?” He fixed a hard glare at Danny.
Danny shrunk back for a moment before a thought occurred to him, “why don’t I tell you my secret as well? Damian is already learning by now and since you're his brother you’ll probably be able to help out.” Secrets for secrets, that way they would both be afforded some leverage in the situation. 
Tim seemed to think for a moment with a hand on his chin, he nodded for a moment before looking up at Danny, “Alright, but tell me yours first.” 
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emile-hides · 1 year
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I cannot believe no one’s gifed POV Ramattra tilting your chin up with his staff yet. Must I do everything around here.
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pocketgalaxies · 1 month
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crazy how in c2 they'll have three extensive convos checking in with each other while traveling like an hour in-game meanwhile in c3 they've been on the moon for days and still haven't discussed the following:
laudna fucking ate a guy
imogen's mom is a mythical legend amongst the enemy
orym vs. laudna's response to imogen giving into predathos
how did chetney suddenly learn to make hypnotizing toys
delilah briarwood
"some of us are expendable, we should get captured"
anything and everything they said during the trust exercise, including but not limited to:
laudna not being able to distinguish her thoughts from delilah's
imogen's disgust at delilah's inevitable presence
chetney's fear that his new family will leave him
orym's feelings about dorian
fcg relieving stress through murder
fearne's insecurities about their chances of success
ashton's guilt about the shard
and more!
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seagull-scribbles · 9 months
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But tonight, I’ll need you to stay
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