The Dartist_315_Well, That Was Terrible_Damocles' Icicle
Catalog Guide:
The Dartist
Warning: Some reference to mental health, and of course, Violence and gore.***** She adjusted her eye patch and focused her one, good eye on the infinite potential of the blank canvas. Tongue between lips, she paced on silent socked feet …turning, visualizing, imagining. She felt the hum of inspiration that sprouted in the back of her mind; growing and blossoming as it crept forward in her consciousness. Tapping the end of the paintbrush on her lips, she cocked her head and narrowed her eye. On her next inhale, she saw it; the canvas burst to life in her mind. “That’s it! I see it and it’...
315
Content warning: Swearing, violence.It feels great putting those big plates on the bar and catching the glances of people working out around me. I get someone to spot me, and they comment on the weight I’m lifting. Then my earbuds are belting out motivational speeches and music while I push through one more rep. When I’m done, the barbell clangs loudly onto its stand. After my set I take a moment to think about how today’s going great. Work went well, my workout is going well, and it’s Friday night. Tonight’s my date with Sarah from work! She’s always so positive even when things get tough. Sh...
Well, That Was Terrible
“Well, that was terrible,” he says, leaning back in his seat, as the screen fades to black, leaving the theater in darkness. “Absolutely,” she agrees, shaking her head. “What were they thinking, releasing another rom com with that same, tired formula.” “Same old tropes, same old plot twists, no effort to be fresh or imaginative. The entire www.onedoor.ccstory was so utterly predictable. Boy meets girl, boy fights with girl, boy makes up with girl. Happily ever after.” She laughs. “Perfect summary. I couldn’t have said it better. And how about those characters? Unbelievably shallow, with the pettiest hang-up...
Damocles' Icicle
TW: Violence, Stalking, Adult Language, Body HorrorIt was around two in the morning when Adam crept out of the shadows of the parking lot. Long, pale limbs reaching at the edges of concrete, pulling out the rest of his well-muscled, if gangly form. Other flesh-molders usually got fancy with their bodies, pushing at the limits of function for the fun of a stranger form. Anything to appear artistic, anything to stand out. Typical artist shit. But standing out wasn’t useful to Adam. Form for the sake of form was idiocy, no matter how advanced one’s skills had to be to achieve it. Better to ensure...