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@silverbeluga

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We're in Virginia, and as we pulled up too the hotel at 11pm i flung myself out of the van into 68°, low humidity, breezy weather and cried to the heavens that it was unfair that anywhere got to be this lovely and cool in summer. To which my Midwestern father corrected me that summer didn't start for three more days. To which I replied that my incorrectness is his fault for raising me in a Floridian perpetual-summer hellscape. Summer starts when I start melting on sidewalks. Summer starts when the tourists show up. Summer comes right after the oak blossoms. I do not care that others disagree.
One of the joys of working with a clear coat is the childlike glee of peeling dried clear paint off your hands like Elmer's glue in elementary school
One of the horrors of working with a clear coat is going to peel dried clear coat off your hands and discovering it is, in fact, skin
You didn't even know you skinned your knuckles, but you do now.
Excuse me while I stagger into this corner and emotionally recover from the Amazing Digital Circus finale.

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They changed the raw umber we keep in stock at work and this... isn't it.
It dries damn near black. It has so much red in it. It does not behave the way I expect a raw umber to behave. It dries with almost an eggshell sheen, sometimes semigloss. It is labeled, and is supposed to be, matte.
I have been silently screaming for weeks and mixing my own raw umber. Today, I found out the rest of my team is also ready to chuck it into the lake. I feel so validated.
"Being a professional artist must be so cool! "
It sure is.
Now watch as I scream at a lump of clay because I can't replicate a texture some unnamed person in the 80s created but I must match perfectly.
your erotica doesn't need to align with your principles. you can find something hot and not believe it should be the way of things. you can play out dynamics in kink that shouldn't be replicated societally. what gets you going is not an indictment of your character
btw you're allowed to enjoy two differing interpretations of the same character and you don't have to justify why you like it to anyone. you can like your evil character to be malicious and serious and you can like depicting them as a silly goober. you can enjoy seeing people draw two characters in all sorts of different contexts and dynamics without having to pick one over the other. you don't have to come up with a complex reason. you don't have to explain yourself to anyone. you can like a character multiple ways without having to justify why it's not problematic or why it's not weird. do what you want. it's fandom, not a testimony before the court.
This. This this this this.
I like this character. I like exploring this character. I like imagining all the what-ifs of this character. I can hold very different images of this character in my mind at the same time.
It's all fun. It's just for fun. Let people have fun.
Sometimes you log on to tumblr dot com and see your beloved mutuals thirsting over unrisen sourdough men and you have to say a very very quiet ‘pass’ to yourself and let it go because inevitably the flat circle of time will bring around your turn to go gaga over some butterface dude or bug eyed girl and you must know that your beloved mutuals are saying a quiet ‘pass’ to themselves and leaving you to your moment of insanity in peace.

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"they're not gay" I don't know man, I read a masterfully written fanfic on A03 that says otherwise.
SCREAMING
I AM SCREAMING
Not really a spoiler in
3
2
1
Best. short.
“i never see you at the club” ok well i never see you on ao3 at 2am reading about the same two bitches falling in love for the 1000th time in the 500th way
*this meeting could have been an email voice* this cgi could have been a puppet
THIS CGI COULD HAVE BEEN A PUPPET!
A PUPPET
BRING BACK THE GODDAMN ARTISTRY STOP SHOVING CGI AT ME
FUCKING MAKE SOMETHING REAL, YOU COWARDS
Everybody shut up I'm sinking into a daydream universe where I'm loved and nothing is wrong

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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There. Are. 15 tables. In. This. Break. Room.
They are all open. Except mine.
Why must you come sit at mine? Why must you see a person sleeping on their break and decide that it is of utmost importance for you to put your items on my table, unpack your lunch into the fridge, loudly rustle through your bags, and then leave your items. On. My. Table.
Pick a different table!
The chameleon vocabulary grows:
I have now adopted Fuct. It's shorter than writing "fucked" and reminds me of duct tape, it shall now be my word as well.
Adopted from my site crew.