Important question
Okay but I think these two are onto something
Test subject
(no bird was harmed)
PUT YOUR BEARD IN MY MOUTH

Kaledo Art
sheepfilms
styofa doing anything
NASA
taylor price
Aqua Utopia|海の底で記憶を紡ぐ

JBB: An Artblog!
KIROKAZE
art blog(derogatory)

Discoholic 🪩
$LAYYYTER
DEAR READER

Andulka

Product Placement

JVL
occasionally subtle
Lint Roller? I Barely Know Her

seen from T1

seen from Canada

seen from Australia
seen from United States

seen from United States

seen from United States

seen from T1
seen from United States

seen from Taiwan
seen from United States
seen from T1

seen from Netherlands

seen from United States

seen from United States

seen from United States
seen from Türkiye

seen from United States
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seen from United States

seen from Argentina
@fancyladssnacks
Important question
Okay but I think these two are onto something
Test subject
(no bird was harmed)

Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
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everyone be quiet. marsha with her snoopy.
They say ooooh be a good boy for daddy and you'll get a reward. But then the reward is just gay sex. This is bullshit. I wanted a skateboard
Then they say if you're a bad boy daddy will punish you. But what's the punishment? More gay sex! You can't escape it. This whole damn place is in the pocket of Big Sex
emoji chain for emoji you like but rarely have a use for. I’ll start:
🗜️
🪤
assorted packaging for chicago-based valmor products co. illustrated by black artist and designer, charles c. dawson. 1930s.
while valmor catered to black clientele and employed black artists, it was not a black owned company, and artist charles c. dawson (and later artist, jay jackson) never received proper credit for the artwork created for the company.
source: x, x, x

Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
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When I was a kid, maybe 14 or so (which is, you know, 20+ years ago), I belonged to a Yahoo! mailing list for an anime called Gundam Wing. It was mostly populated by other teens, of varying ages, as it was started by a teen and her friends. Eventually it migrated, when Yahoo! groups started as forums, and even branched off into non-GW related stuff in a second forum.
One of the things I remember the most clearly is the oldest person in the group. Her name was Steelsong. She was a 40-something Dom with a sub whose name we knew even though we knew nothing else. She ran her own fanfic archive because the web was still handmade HTML and navigated in webrings and I’m pretty sure Google didn’t exist or was only barely, barely launched and not well known. She was kind and patient and we loved her. She treated everyone on the group with the respect given any adult, even though most of the rest of the world was still treating us like we were children. Not teenagers even, but children. She never once condescended to any of us, never made our youth a barrier to her respect, never treated us like we were incapable of being full people or like we were less than her because we were young.
I remember that she hosted our fanfiction, as absolutely terrible as it was (and I still have some of it, I am WELL aware of how cringingly terrible it is, just absolute nonsense garbage), right there alongside of other fic that was soul-achingly beautiful. Not a separate section for her friends or for kids, just right there like we were good enough to feature alongside other authors. I never once received crit from her that I didn’t ask for, only support. Only love. I am still writing today partly because Steel was so kind about our fic, fanfic and original.
I remember that when I started doing clay sculpture, she commissioned a tiny pair of dragons from me, to support me doing artwork. She sent a check my mom cashed for me, and my mom helped me mail it when it was finished. It broke in transit, and Steel assured me that she mended it and that it was still beautiful. It was a small gold dragon curled up with a small silver dragon.
I remember that her patience knew no bounds. I remember that she was there for us, regardless of reason. When we wanted to know silly things like what to do with a single AA battery, she answered. When we had serious questions about sex, she answered. When we had questions about writing, she taught us. When one of our group members, a young gay teen in Australia, ended up in the hospital and then stopped making posts, and we all knew what had happened, she let us talk to her about it because we couldn’t go to our own parents, even though we had just lost a friend.
She was not a replacement to my parents, but she was an extra parent, in some ways. A friend, certainly, but someone that had been through more life than we had and was willing to pass on knowledge if we asked for it. Someone older that we trusted with things that were too uncomfortable to go to our parents or teachers or whatever about, because we already knew she wasn’t going to judge us or something, and that we would get an honest answer.
I don’t know why I’m remembering this so hard tonight, and I’m not sure if there’s a point to sharing this, except that I know she’s gone now. She was ill the last time we spoke, and her site went down a long time ago, and I miss her. She was a huge influence on my life, then and now. She was hope, for me, that life as an adult didn’t have to be boring, it wouldn’t have to mean giving up the things I loved and Becoming Only Responsible With No Fun. Her presence meant I had hope I could still write and play with friends even when I wasn’t ‘a kid’ anymore. And she’s gone, and I miss her, and I wanted to share her from the perspective of youth, and the perspective over twenty years later has provided me.
And I think of her, when people go off about older folks being in fandom with younger folks. I’m an older folks now, or at least middle aged folks because there are certainly folks older than me still, but I wasn’t always. I’ve been here since i was a younger folks, and I know how much Steel’s presence and support meant to me, how much she helped not just me but everyone on that group. And I think of the people saying older folks don’t belong in fandom, and that they shouldn’t interact with younger folks at all, and I just think… I can’t agree. I needed that kind of solid presence in my life back then and even at the age I am now, I need the folks older than me to stay. I want them here.
So I guess, like, if you’re here and you’re 40 or 50 or 60 or 70 or 80 or whatever, I want you here in fandom with me, still. Your presence here is a comfort. It is hope. It is a reminder that life will continue to be fun, even as I get older, myself. And if you’re younger and you have this sort of elder in your groups, I hope that they are like Steel. I hope they are kind and patient and supportive, and that knowing them gives you hope for your own future. I hope in twenty years you look back and remember them fondly.
it's hard being a polyamorous action hero because whenever i have flashbacks to all my dead wives it takes like 20 minutes to get through all of it
it kind of sounds like youre just feeding local women to the deadwife montage
June 15, 1927 Journals of Anais Nin 1923-1927 [volume 3]
add yours!
Add one or two of yours! (or something you like about making digital art)🔥

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imagine if something gay happened
Honestly, as much as older generations like to shit on younger generations, kids these days are so good. They're so smart and funny and creative and they're trying SO hard despite the absolute disaster of a world they're growing up in.
Love and kindness and patience for all the babies growing up in this dumpster fire ❤
okay hear me out
This but the only thing they keep is my pelvis and they use the rest of my body to vajazzle that bitch

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Duplicity
There is a quality of books (or movies or shows) that I can best describe as “stickiness,” which is separate from being good or even enjoyable: a sticky book is one I just keep thinking about. Sometimes it’s because a book is very good (e.g. The Locked Tomb), and sometimes it’s because a book is very bad (e.g. ACOTAR), but there are also very good and very bad books that are slippery, such that when I’m done reading them they slip from my thoughts like water from a hydrophobic surface.
I love this so please everyone reblog with some of yours
I'll go first
Good Sticky: Perfect Days (instant favourite that stayed with me in incredible detail after the first watch)
Bad Sticky: Hummingbird Salamander by Jeff Vandermeer; Across the Universe (movie) - I have devoted way too much time being mad about both of these
Good Slippery: most things by Banana Yoshimoto (she's my favourite author but can I ever remember anything about her books beyond a vague vibe?? Makes for v enjoyable rereading though)
Bad Slippery: Venom: Let There Be Carnage (watched on a plane and don't remember a thing about it)