I hate posting on social media.
But I do it anyways.
Every time I post something, it risks people getting mad at me. Of getting big, too big, and coming back around to hurt me. It's happened before. It'll happen again.
And yet I post anyways.
Because I think a lot of people feel very much alone. And I think that the power of art is that it can, for a moment, make someone feel less alone.
When I look at art I can feel the artist behind it, saying "I made this, and I wanted you to see it. And I want you to see yourself in it too. And I want you to know I love you." And I feel a connection in the humanity of every stroke they made. Through millennia and cultures and lifestyles, no matter what, there is always the artist behind the work, and I know I'm not alone.
Every time I share something my art transforms, entirely against my will. While I'm working it's reflective, relaxing, explorative. I'm learning while I draw, about myself and the things around me and how I see things.
And then I post.
And now it's in someone else's hands. They see it, and everything I tried to put into it is irrelevant. It only matters what someone gets out of it.
This transformation is magical, but it is also extremely vulnerable.
And it's scary!
But I share anyways.
Because I made this. And I wanted you to see it. And I want you to see yourself in it too.
And I want you to know I love you.
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Dabi is surprisingly a lightweight. You honestly would’ve never figured by looking at him, but as you think back on it, you’ve never really seen him drink a lot. Not when there were celebratory parties, or when things didn’t go right for him. It’s why you’re so shocked when you convince two shots into his system, why he suddenly looks so loose, why his grin splits so wide.
He’s a clinger, you’ve also learned as you’ve started observing the blue eyed man where he shoves his face into the crook of your neck. His body bends over almost uncomfortably to fit into the position, and you can’t help but flinch a little when his damp breath blows a quiet little raspberry on your flesh.
omg wait my favorite thought is of you not even necessarily being a heavyweight, you can just handle your liquor a little better than anyone expects. you love to knock back drink after drink, convince Dabi into some stupid competition that he falls for because he’s such a little nerd and secretly wants to impress you. he does it thinking you’ll be the drunk one first, the one hanging off of his arm and hopefully his dick by the end of the night.
it belatedly shocks him when it’s the exact opposite. when he’s slurring a little and smiling at you, when you watch him through low eyes with a wide grin, when he wraps himself around you like a python, when you shake his face gently as you squish his cheeks together in hand. he’s just so utterly obsessed with you in these moments, and maybe it’s the liquor in him, but he knows his lowered inhibitions are only bringing forth the feelings he’s always suppressed.
drunk sex with Dabi where he’s the one too loose limbed and limp and weak. he flops onto bed like some rag doll with his arms and legs spread wide, but he musters up enough strength to release the heavy weight of his cock from its confinements. doesn’t do much besides lift his head from the pillows with a point to his crotch and a lazy grin, an announcement of, go ahead and hop on already before he’s flopping back down again, ready to lay back and get fucked like how he knows he deserves.
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CATWS 10th Anniversary | March 31st
» Prompts: Sam Wilson for @catws-anniversary
a loving homage to A Softer World and @asofteravenger
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Hiiii, I hope I make the deadline for your March 14th event. 😊 so here’s my blorbo:
An exciting date with Connie Springer. 🩶 He takes me to a Dave and Busters type place where we play laser tag and bowl. After, we hit up some food trucks downtown for dinner. He’s very flirty and makes me laugh a lot. Of course he doesn’t forget to kiss me goodnight when he takes me back home.
Thank you so much!
Xoxo, Maggie 💖
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The thing about the painter analog that people don't get and makes them hate it is that at heart this isn't a serious horror story. This is pure gore not only for the sake of gore but for the sake of camp. Once I was talking of to my dad laughing at the guy who had his face sanded off and he was like yeah not new they did that in Jason already 🙄 which was later reinforced by UrbanSpook admitting this is inspired by those old 80s slasher which should tell you everything.
I'm saying this bc i saw a video pairing it with Playground and the incest game and while I don't know the second I watched a video on playground once and the difference is that that book is trying to tell a story and say something on top of the gore but the later makes it hard to care. Which is kind of the issue another "gone too far" piece of media my beloved A Serbian Film runs into where you cannot take yourself too seriously if you also want to show over the top violence or you'll lose the audience.
OF COURSE there are exceptions like Hostel, Saw and 😏 the human centipede ☺️ (cocksucker for that movie and it's more serious points, though it barely counts bc the gore is very tame save for in 2) and I couldn't exactly tell you what's the difference between what makes them work and what doesn't but still.
But I'm getting off topic I'm not here to say which media is good or not I'm here to point out the painter is not a serious story that asks you to care for the characters it's a over the top schlocky gore that asks you to go GROOOOSS or laugh at the over the top brutality it presents. Which is very standard in horror.
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