Moth | I write stuff sometimes | My main is dipshit-dotcom | she/they | evil freaky Billy 😈| there will be 18+ things on here, be careful what you interact with
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I don't have ms paint but just pretend it is bc no one knows paintbrush for mac but i can assure you it was just as hellish if not worse since theres technically no brushes other than a pixel round brush and the worst looking freaking spray paint
I am so tired of short-attention-span, trim-the-fat culture.
All writing advice these days is for how to write like Chuck Palahniuk. "Cut 'think', cut 'feel', cut 'wonder' - only action, only pushing forward, show and move and move and move." What if I could emulate this style, and still don't want to? What if I want to write like Henry James, with three paragraphs of introspective musings between each dialogue line?
The music advice is, "make it shortform, make it Tik-Tok compatible, make it punchy, hit the refrain as soon as possible." What if I want that 10-minute prog rock piece? What if I want that symphony? What if I want it slow and luxurious and lazy?
Movies. Series. Poetry. Bodies. Everything is "trimmed trimmed trimmed trimmed, stripped bare, you have three seconds to win me over, make it airport chic." I don't want to win you over, then, I guess.
I want the fat left it.
I want the pleasure and the indolence and the indulgence.
Fuck this art-advice that's always "your art needs Ozempic."
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I’ve never seen a single episode of the pitt but I do think that kind autistic woman should fuck the twitchy drug guy who has the eyes of an abandoned shelter dog
Going through Daredevil season 2 for the first time and god Foggy and Matt are so "Sally's Song" coded, the YEARNING y'all, man's is breaking Foggy's heart in real time.
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small blurb written for the beautiful @foxmurdock based on the lovely idea they shared with me a few days ago
You sit under a lonely maple tree, Matt beside you, tree bark digging into your backs, grass tickling your skin. Surprisingly, It's actually quite comfortable. Your head lolls agaisnt his shoulder as you listen to the cicadas, and the early birds chirping lightly overhead. The sun isn't out yet, but the sky is tinged in a lighter blue than it was an hour ago. It won't be long until the day begins. For now, the world stands still, holding you gently in this rare moment of peace that you get to share with your sweet love.
You say his name softly, holding it in your mouth the way you hold him in your heart, "Matty?"
"Yes, Sweetie?" His reply is just as soft.
You lift your head from his shoulder, looking at over a dozen fireflies flittering over the grass. "When you were a kid, did you ever see any fireflies?" Your soft grip on his hand tightens with your growing excitement.
"No, I didn't." He lifts your hand to his mouth, kissing your knuckles with a tenderness he never realised he was capable of before you, "Describe them to me, Baby."
"Well…they're like these gentle wisps of light. Kind of like stars, you know, 'cause they blink. It's so beautiful…" He smiles beside you, already enraptured by your description, "They feel kind of innocent…hopeful, in a way…almost like little reminders that there's still good in this world…" A nervous laugh escapes your lips, "That probably doesn't make any sense."
He turns to you, the hand that's not holding yours reaching to cup your cheek, "I don't need to see a firefly to know there's still light in this world, Sweetheart. I have you for that, lovely girl."
notes: not proofread btw (divided by @cursed-carmine)
34 and 35, what do I find attractive in men and women?
Honestly it's mostly about personality. Thats really all it is for me. You could give me the same exact personality in (for example) a fat person vs someone who is fit, and I could not make a choice because that is the same person to me.
Oh also um crows feet, stretch marks, smile lines, dimples, and a ten year age gap (for both!)
