I was looking for references and stumbled across a series of paintings from 1930s by Soviet painter Alexander Samokhvalov called "The young women of metro construction"
sheepfilms
Misplaced Lens Cap
Aqua Utopia|海の底で記憶を紡ぐ

ellievsbear
Three Goblin Art
he wasn't even looking at me and he found me
ojovivo
🪼
KIROKAZE
Show & Tell
untitled
I'd rather be in outer space 🛸

Love Begins
almost home
occasionally subtle

tannertan36
todays bird
Claire Keane

❣ Chile in a Photography ❣

#extradirty
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@burntmetalbastard
I was looking for references and stumbled across a series of paintings from 1930s by Soviet painter Alexander Samokhvalov called "The young women of metro construction"
“I was on a strict diet during Episode VIII, and she was like, ‘Kid, get into that fridge and take some chocolate bars. I have many there.’ And I did,” he recalls. “I failed my diet because Carrie Fisher told me to. And it [felt] great.”
-John Boyega on Carrie Fisher
This is the Carrie Fisher post of body positivity reblog for a chocolate bar from her fridge
Two reactive dog girls, but you have to socialize them.
It starts in the morning. They each know something is different, but neither of them can quite put their paw on what's wrong. They notice your reluctance. The way you show too many teeth when you smile. The nervousness as they eat breakfast. They hesitate, but finish their meal and something inside you begins to relax.
It’s not your fault. You found them as strays. Half feral and codependent. Anxious and likely to bite when frightened.
An hour later the drugs you slipped into their food starts to kick in. Pupils blow out, breathing slows. Neither of them respond when you slip the muzzles over their heads. One, in fact, you struggle to put on because the girl keeps trying to lick your face as you adjust the straps along her head.
Eventually you have them dressed, harnessed, leashed, and out in the sunshine.
Neither of them can read the “Friendly, please pet” patches on the back of the harness. Neither of them know what the holiday is, or what celebration has caused so many people to spill out onto the streets on this warm day.
You watch as the docile hounds lean into the pets from strangers. Where once they would be cowering, shivering messes, nipping and scurrying into the quietest shadows, you have them calm. Part steady training, part downers in their system keeping them passive.
Questions are asked, assurances given that they’re friendly.
“Oh no, one of them really likes to eat pinecones so she has to wear a muzzle. The other feels left out because she thinks it’s like jewelry."
You drift from crowd to crowd. Occasionally you’ll pause, slipping off the muzzle in a secluded spot to give each of them a chance to drink, or to force another pill into the back of their throat with a firm “Swallow.”
You’ll use less drugs next time, but for now it’s more important that all this gets associated with positive interactions. That and something in you can’t help but enjoy the sight of them so stupid and blank. Throughout your walk the pair of them keep falling into each other. Tangling their leads and tripping into giggling, drooling messes. One will try and give the other kisses, whining and pouting when her lips find only the muzzle. The attention from strangers is eagerly accepted, the friendlier of the two even giving her belly for pets.
Well into the afternoon you find yourself at a small party with friends, late because the pair of dogs with you got so much attention. Around these people you remove the muzzle from the sweeter of the pair, the one less likely to bite and less likely to deliver anything more than a warning nip if she does. Her kennelmate stays muzzled, looking up at all the guests with empty wonderment and a docile expression. More familiar hands reach down to pet the pair, welcoming them into the party. They lean into the touches. Pressing themselves into hands they growled at months ago. More than once you catch them arching their bodies into hands that had stopped petting encouraging their renewed attention.
“Look, she’s gotten so sweet.” The one you’d trusted found herself on a couch, curled up in the lap of a person she’d only seen a few times in her life. With each gentle cooing word the hound relaxed, exposing her belly and inviting the touches that eventually came. You watch your training play out in real time as her mouth is opened by delicate fingers. “Easy girl. No bite.” Lips part, teeth flash, and no attack comes. Instead the hound holds still as fingers play with her tongue, exploring her teeth, dragging themselves along the sharp points with careless ease. Never once do you see your hound twitch. Never once do you see the warning ripple across her body as this stranger so carelessly plays past her lips.
Next to you the anxious one is watching intently. You can hear her soft pants, see the shift from paw to paw. Next time you think you’ll have her in the same position.
Before the party is over you slip them each another pill. They take it without complaint or comment, no thoughts in their heads except those which you’ve allowed. The anxious one has her muzzle put back on, straps carefully checked to make sure there’s no gaps.
When the night’s concluded you’ll lead them back the quiet way home. Letting the night air cool their overly warm bodies. You tell them how well behaved they were, how proud you were of their behavior. The more anxious of the pair look up at you with pupils as dark and wide as the night sky, a stupid little smile on her lips, teeth flashing behind the bars of her muzzle.
“So when’s the next party?”
(If you would like to support my writing and help me relocate to a safer place I've included my cash app below)
https://cash.app/$LyrWrites
Official spinoff of that other post of mine
I need to live with someone that I can be an absolute bully and menace and sex pest to whenever I'm bored. Let me pull your hair. Let me sit in your lap when I'm trying to do something. Let me push you over and step on you. Let me reach in your pants when your trying to talk to me. Let me spit in your mouth. Let me casually remind you that you're here for me entertainment
I need to live with someone that I can be an absolute bully and menace and sex pest to whenever I'm bored. Let me pull your hair. Let me sit in your lap when I'm trying to do something. Let me push you over and step on you. Let me reach in your pants when your trying to talk to me. Let me spit in your mouth. Let me casually remind you that you're here for me entertainment
I’m making a kingdom, fill out the polls and rb with your character :] ⚔️ 🍄 🐉 🛡️ 🐦🔥
What are you?
human
elf
Merfolk
Dragon folk
Gnome
Werewolf
bird folk
faun
orc
fairy
What is your job?
blacksmith
carpenter
Gardener
Royalty
Magic practitioner
Knight
townsfolk
doctor
Animal specialist
chef
Engineer
HUAN 1-17, a series of Rimworld illustrations by Zezhou /x
rebloggin’ these cause they’re frigging GORGEOUS and make me wanna cry
KICK THE CAN!
Let’s play the biggest game of kick the can on the internet.
To kick the can, reblog it. I wanna see how long this can go on for.
the oldest reblogs for this post that i can find are from january 2nd of 2013. this can has been getting kicked around tumblr for almost 13½ years now
top 3 hobbies for young adults:
1. borrowing misery from future
2. carrying grief of the past
3. agonizing over the present
FUCK. honestly just FUCK. We missed a very important day yesterday.
what was yesterday, cat?
I’m not missing it this year.
happy raccoon birthday
apparatus
Every single sartha Thrace kinnie is dogshit at ac6 you girls are fucking posers
it literally isn’t cheating if you start a fling with a tgirl that happens to have a chaser boyfriend. his existence should be treated like an afterthought.
what if i want it to be cheating?
"I'm sorry, I just, I have a boyfriend."
"Do you?" She furrows her eyebrows at the way you asked the question. "Wha…"
"I haven't seen you with a boyfriend."
"I showed up with him, he's-"
"Outside? He's been outside a lot tonight, huh? I've had my eye on you for two hours, and not once have you been on his arm. You keep checking your phone like you're waiting on something, but I don't think he's coming, baby."
Her confidence falters a note. "He's just, he went out for a smoke, he said he was coming back in…" You raise your eyebrows to reinforce your previous assertion. She falters under it, and reaches over with one hand to grasp her other forearm.
You sidle a little closer to her, bumping your arm into the fridge she's been standing next to, looking lonely. "I noticed you've been checking her out all night." You gesture at a redhead across the room wearing slightly too much lipstick. That one's been running her mouth to the little woman next to her on the couch ever since the party's host disbanded the half-assed attempt at icebreaker games, and the yearning on your conversational partner's face was so loud that you immediately knew she was missing something important in her life.
She blushes and turns away. "No, I, well, I just think she's really beautiful."
"You want me to get her number for you?" You don't want to get that number for her, but you know this pretty little thing is going to flinch at the notion of actually getting what she wants.
She plays right into your hands. "She's busy, and she's talking to that girl, and besides, she wouldn't want m-…" She tucks her lips between her teeth to smother the rest of the sentence, and she drifts to staring down between her feet.
You take a step forward and a bold step in the conversation, getting close enough to tuck a finger under her chin and lift to force eye contact. You murmur "She wouldn't want you? Why wouldn't she want you? Girl, you're a catch. You didn't come here all dressed up to look at the floor, did you?"
Her eyes get a few drops more watery, and she almost pulls away from your touch, but you take a second finger and run it under her chin again, and she almost puckers as she leans into the touch. A thirst she doesn't seem willing to admit touches her lips for a moment, but then she tries to protest "I came with my boyfriend-"
"Yeah yeah, your boyfriend. But I don't see him here now, with you. You're right here, with me, and I can see what he's missing."
You can feel the desperation in the way she leans forward. "What he's missing? What do you mean?"
"He showed up to the party with the most beautiful girl here, and somehow he's gotten fixated on the reflection in his truck's bumper outside instead of keeping an eye on his woman. I think he should be taught a lesson."
She pulls back a little past your outstretched fingers, but you don't cede distance, and she step back into the ample space available. "What? What are you saying? A lesson? He's just outside, he just, he was just getting a cigarette from her, he's coming back soon…"
"Oh, so he was talking to some girl? And somehow he forgot about you?"
She's on the verge of tears. "I, well, she was…" Her voice drops to a whisper, right about to break. "She's trans too, so…"
A cord unzips around your throat, the friction painful as you see this poor girl push herself aside to make way in her relationship for someone else just because they share a demographic with her. You step further forward and cup her jaw, staring deep into her eyes. "Oh, sweetie, do you think that's why he's with you?"
With an impressive degree of fortitude she manages to return your gaze, and you can see something vulnerable inside her unfurling under your attention. She murmurs out "He just said I'm his type, that he has a thing for tgirls-"
You cut her off with gentle firmness. "Baby girl, 'tgirl' is something that you get to say, not him. Do you like being called that?"
Her cheeks go red and she shakes her head in your hand a little. "I just want to be a woman, but-"
"No 'but' anything. You are a woman, and you deserve to be called that. What do you want to be called? How does gorgeous sound?"
Her lips part, and you can feel her breathing coming heavier. You adjust your grip to hold her chin like a chalice filled with angelic ambrosia, and you continue "Delightful? Sweet thing?" That gets a shiver out of her, and you can tell that if you find just the right phrase, you might get a moan out of her.
The air etches with the truest sentence of the evening: "Are you my little girl?"
You get the moan you were aiming for, and in the breathless moments she fails to respond you take another step forward and wrap your arms around her waist. You can see stars light in her eyes at your proximity, and she bites her lip for a moment before she remembers the chastity she's so foolishly trying to withhold. "Wait, no, I, I have a boyfriend, I'm lucky to have him, I won't cheat-"
You pull a hand around and put a finger to her lips. "No, you're lucky you found me. Now, cheating only counts if you're doing the same thing with someone else as you do with your boyfriend, right?" She nods her head slightly, and it's so blindingly cute it feels like looking into a supernova. You continue "So how about we do all the things he never does to you?"
this might piss some people off but I don’t think some of you actually ever tried to unlearn your hatefulness. you just came out as queer and decided your new targets really truly deserve it this time.
Perhaps you stop playing mtg arena until WOTC recognizes the union. Perhaps you dont even buy mtg or dnd things until then. Perhaps.