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#arty tells it like it is
curiousartemis · 2 years
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So codywan is one of those rare OTPs of mine that really doesn’t have a ton of textual canonical basis; I mean like, yeah, you can easily imagine them falling in love, but the text itself doesn’t hint at it.
And yet one of the frustrating things about it is that I can still feel frustrated when I watch/read/consume canon material, not because codywan isn’t canon (and never would be, nor do I think it’s one of those ships that you are just crazy for not seeing... not at all! I think you really have to squint and enjoy that potential dynamic to ship it) but because there are literally no canon queer couples in Star Wars (and fringe stuff, and possibly-maybes, and Filoni saying “it’s however you want to see it” do not count), AND, when it comes to my other queer couples that I adore, you know, the ones that are blatantly obvious to everyone (cough, bagginshield, cough)... they’re not canon either.
So after awhile you just sort of say... well FUCK. Fuck all y’all corporate fuckheads. Fuck.
Just some thoughts...
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gascansposts · 3 months
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Clone^2 by @starry-bi-sky !! Danny and Damian are the siblings ever
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They are the worst to eachother /pos
(Hope you don’t mind the tag starry :p)
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lostinthesasuke · 11 months
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I think sasuke knew how joan of arc felt
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sparkdoesart · 7 months
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My progress on every 2 (maybe a few 3) character ship in the rainworld fandom
(Don't mind the huge style change in the first one lmao)
We have
Bathbomb
BBQ(?)
Fishsticks
And Cherrybomb
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eggobuggo · 3 days
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Might as well drop my own one of these.
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ej-artyarts · 10 months
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Friendly fire on @wrenwrought of kikimora!!
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salsa-di-pomodoro · 11 months
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If Artificer-centered angst bothers you, please read the tags.
The way the Artificer's entire story is told gives me the fucking shivers. The way they let you piece it all together and the feeling of confusion you have turns into dread rising with each dream you witness... the way you can see her grief turning into an obsession for violence with those last few dreams, when she stops dreaming of her pups and just continues her carnage even in her sleep. The grief is still there, obviously, but it has taken a backseat to her simple wish to get her anger out on the scavengers. It's no longer about her children, by then.
She wants to heal so badly, and yet i know by then she would not take the chance to stop her carnage if it was given. (In the chieftain ending, it was given multiple times and we all saw how that went.) I suppose after a certain point the idea of breaking the cycle was more painful than the cycle itself.
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simsforks · 3 months
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I went to my friends birthday party yesterday, and bought her two very expensive gifts. She just asked me to pay her back €8 for a beer. I don't want any drama so I'm just gonna do it but jesus
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ieo-pio · 2 years
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Equestrian aus my beloved <333
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artemispanthar · 26 days
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I don't think I ever posted about this dream I had a few months back that was straight-up a creepypasta story conjured by my subconscious. It's nothing too wild but it's stuck with me. It went like this:
In the dream, it was like 10+ years ago when my little sister was still little and I lived in the house I lived in at that time. We were watching some cartoon on Nickelodeon and towards the end there was a little banner at the bottom that read "Up Next: Worried & Anxious" and I was like, hm, what a strange name for a show and decided to check it out.
So the show comes on and it's a sort of puppet/muppet style show like Sesame Street or Bear in the Big Blue House. It opens in a room with bright colored walls and cartoonishly proportioned furniture. The back wall is a big sliding glass door and outside is a colorful drawing of a sunny day. Bright, generically happy music is playing
There were two kids who looked maybe 12 years old standing in the middle of the room with identical big mascot-type heads that looked like cartoon child heads with curly hair. The heads looked like they were made of stone (kind of jagged) but painted so they were colorful. For the mouth was a cut out for the kids' in the costumes faces. The kids' faces were off-center like they were trying to pull the mascot heads off but weren't able to and they both looked distressed.
The camera focuses on one of them and a voiceover (the sort of classic cartoon little boy obviously voiced by an adult woman voice) says "I'm Worried!" and then the camera switches to the other kid and a different voiceover (noticably the same VA slightly changing her voice) says "And I'm Anxious!"
Frantic discordant music starts playing and the camera zooms to look out the sliding glass door and it cuts to another scene where it's like, the foreground is grass with a dirt path and it's rotating backward while the sunny sky background scrolls up to give the illusion of motion. A garishly red, pointy puppet is jerkily wobbling as though it's walking up the road. It kind of looked like a jinjo from Banjo-Kazooie with a bunch of red springs sticking out of its body (like... have you ever stretched out a metal Slinky? The springs looked kind of like pieces of stretched metal slinkys)
The camera slowly zooms on the puppet and I get the feeling the puppet is approaching the house and that that is really really bad.
And then I woke up so I have no idea what would've happened if the red puppet ever made it to the house.
Anyway, I had this dream months ago but I still think about it. I kinda think it would make for a neat analog horror short
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artichow · 2 months
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just a heads up, i've decided to delete some of my posts of mostly old pieces but also stuff i don't want anyone to see online anymore, it's mostly for personal but also not that deep a reason, but i felt like i should say something just in case
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cloudbatcave · 2 months
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Gunner my boy my guy. I support his guitar playing pursuits.
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amburppp · 1 year
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Masaki in pink
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italictext · 3 months
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Desperately fighting back the urge to reread the land of stories :( So here have some doodles I made :>
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kriprii · 4 months
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It's not pride month but I had to
A friend owns Snail, I own Nautilus
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tklpilled · 2 years
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gaps of sunlight
(dazai/chuuya)
summary: chuuya takes care of dazai.
a/n: for the prompt ‘death spot’, but it’s really soft lmao. unedited, half asleep writing + on the shorter side again.
[this is a sfw tickle fic!]
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Dazai’s gotten himself hurt again, and as usual, he doesn’t care. As usual, Chuuya does.
It’s not bad, or deep, but knowing Dazai he’d find a way to make the cut worse, so Chuuya takes it upon himself to care for him. It’s domestic in a way Chuuya isn’t used to, but that he doesn’t necessarily hate.
Chuuya’s quiet as he rewraps Dazai’s bandages, and Dazai for once doesn’t seem to find any words to say either. It doesn’t feel awkward, though, or uncomfortable: it’s just how they work. Chuuya only breaks the silence when he’s finished.
“You hurt anywhere else?” he asks, moving to check anyway because he knows Dazai is a liar.
“No,” says Dazai, but lets him do his thing. At this point Chuuya can’t tell if it’s because he’s lying or because he likes the attention.
Chuuya turns Dazai to the side, feeling around him in a way that almost makes him blush if not for the situation at hand, and he pretends not to notice how the brunet practically melts into his touch each time.
Dazai doesn’t seem to be injured anywhere else, but Chuuya still checks around his neck just to be safe. He knows how sensitive Dazai is in that area, but he doesn’t bother being too careful—because maybe he wants to torment Dazai a little, and maybe he wants to hear him laugh more, but that’s no one’s business but his own. 
Dazai doesn’t laugh, but he smiles so softly, so genuinely that it makes Chuuya’s chest feel like it’s being squeezed. He drags his fingertips over Dazai’s neck, half-tickling and half actually searching for wounds.
“Chuhuuya,” breathes Dazai, and even interrupted by giggles, Chuuya’s name sounds so perfect from his mouth, as if he were born to say it.
Say it again, he thinks, and Dazai does. 
Chuuya doesn’t always feel like his name is his, like maybe he really is just some string of code and his real name is a bundle of numbers, but when Dazai says it, it makes him feel like it’s him. Chuuya doesn’t know how he does it. Even from the moment they met, it sounded so right—Chuu-ya, spilling from his lips so naturally and so full of everything. 
And even now, when Dazai calls to him; even broken apart by breathy laughs, nothing has ever so perfectly belonged to anything else in the way the sound of his name belongs to Dazai. 
“You have something on your neck,” he lies, and presses a kiss to the side of Dazai’s neck and the tiny squeak it produces makes him never want to move. 
He continues to press kisses all over Dazai’s neck, behind his ear and sometimes trailing down to his shoulders. Dazai, despite his giggling, manages to stay still, just sitting there and taking it. He doesn’t even complain, not once; just says Chuuya’s name when he needs to say something. 
I love you, Chuuya thinks but doesn’t say, but Dazai already knows. 
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