Sulemio Week Day 1 - Heartbeat
HAPPY SULETTA SUNDAY TO THOSE WHO CELEBRATE

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Today's Document

bliss lane
Misplaced Lens Cap
The Stonewall Inn
Lint Roller? I Barely Know Her
Monterey Bay Aquarium
d e v o n
Cosimo Galluzzi
Cosmic Funnies
almost home

Andulka
Claire Keane
YOU ARE THE REASON
TVSTRANGERTHINGS
The Bowery Presents

No title available

@theartofmadeline
we're not kids anymore.
No title available

seen from Türkiye
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seen from Bangladesh

seen from Argentina

seen from Argentina

seen from Ukraine

seen from Malaysia
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seen from Türkiye
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@fallofbeacon
Sulemio Week Day 1 - Heartbeat
HAPPY SULETTA SUNDAY TO THOSE WHO CELEBRATE
Your Highness, you're getting dirty—
Shut up.
sulemio week day 4 - princess x knight!
“I’ll keep wishing for a world where you’ll be happy”
#sulemioweek24 - 1 - commander/mistress
@sulemio-week-official
6/16 - Commander/Mistress
sulemio week day 4- fantasy
suletta the dragon slayer gets a little reward from her princess…
WFM X RGU
it's called fashion
I want to take you on a puppy play date.
I’ll wake you as I do every morning, by letting you out of your kennel. The key sliding into the lock, and the metallic click of the shackle releasing have become your new alarm clock. One that used to wake you with fright, but now signals a peaceful start to your day. You crawl out, stretching in the way only a puppy can before we handle our morning chores.
Breakfast is the typical fair, served to you from a bowl on the ground. As usual, it takes only a little begging before I end up hand feeding you bites of mine. I’ll take extra time with your grooming after, making sure to scrub every spot before brushing your coat until it shines.
Some worry in you is sure to stir when you see me start to pack your toys. You paw at me concerned, and I tease you it’s nothing for a puppy to worry about. The car ride is just as unsettling. We aren’t going the usual way to the park. Worse, this isn’t even the direction to the vet. You’re being brought somewhere unknown.
Your nervousness is sure to spike when I finally stop in front of a house you’ve never seen before. You’ll whimper, certainly. Maybe you’ll even start scratching at my seat where I’ve harnessed you in the back. Still, you know better than to protest when I clip the leash to your collar. Maybe the sight of your toys in my other hand will relax you? At least we’re going somewhere those are necessary.
Imagine your surprise when I greet the owner of the house with warm fondness. A hug, kisses on the cheek. We’re welcomed inside where she regards you with just as much kindness.
“Oh so this is your new girl?”
“Look how well you’ve brought her up.”
“Does she know the basics? Paw! Oh look, good girl!”
You relax around this new person. In her home, next to me, you perform at your best behavior, any nervousness lost behind the safety your training offers. You know paw, you know sit, you can steady and do all your little tricks while the people gossip. You largely tune out as I leave you to play with one of your quieter toys. That is, until you hear something your little brain can’t ignore.
“You’re right, I think they’d get along wonderfully. Why don’t I go let her out? She’d love to stretch her legs and greet all our new guests.” You don’t have to wait long before you hear the rushing pace of something approaching. Suddenly you’re nose to nose with another girl remarkably like you. Stuck on all fours, panting with excitement, a pretty collar around her neck with her name and her owner’s information.
For a few moments nothing happens. Both of you are too stunned to do much of anything but stare at one another. Eventually however something breaks the tension and you two are left to sniff each other. Hesitant circling becomes more forward inspection, becomes small little kisses and touches that communicate more than words ever could.
You notice the host and I have returned to our gossip and tea and left you both to play in our presence. The only decorum you’re expected to follow is that you don’t play so rough with your new friend that it upsets any furniture.
The dog across from you is much like you. There was a person there, once, but there’s an emptiness in her eyes you know your own mirror. The play starts hesitantly, each of you still following the dance of strange dogs until they know the other isn’t going to be a problem. You show you aren’t a threat, you aren’t going to be hostile in her den. You pick one of your favorite toys and play with it in front of her. Slowly mouthing at the edges, playfully picking at the tag with your teeth. Without any sudden movements, you drop the toy and give your best bowing stretch.
She answers in kind. Her eyes were curious more than frightened, some hesitancy in her behavior. She takes in your scent as you play, watching how you move and seeing how you keep looking up in invitation. After a few moments of receiving your bow, she answers with a play sneeze before grabbing the toy in her jaws and rushing off with it.
The play now begins in earnest. Playfully pawing at each other as you try to take the toy from the other. Fake bites and air chomps are paired with loud growling and empty posturing. Custody of the toy is traded back and forth in the tussle, soon becoming damp after so long in your jaws.
You aren’t expected to keep up with the conversation of people. You don’t have to watch the exchange of body language and guess how best to answer with your own. There’s no fear about minding your expressions, or of having something interesting to say.
You’re just a dog.
The afternoon passes this way as you get to know your new friend. Your toys and hers are scattered about the house, by now forgotten as you switch to more physical play. Wrestling and nipping at each other with no real intent but to wallow. Occasionally one of you will bite too hard, or throw too much of your body weight into a tackle, and the other will answer with a surprised yelp. Those moments are quickly resolved and the hurt quickly dismissed by a play sneeze, or offering of a vulnerable belly. Just as quickly, the slight is forgotten and you return to your play, this time a little more careful.
Exhausted, you’ll curl up with your new friend after hours of wallowing each other, and sleep nestled in the safety of your new pack.
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Movement nudge, hand mobility! 🙌
X
1) do this even if you're under 40. seriously. I definitely should have been doing something like this for years and I only turned 40 a month and a half ago
2) if you're like me just now trying this going "oh god i've only done 15 and i think my hands are cramping" start lower than 30 and increase by 5 once whatever number you're doing no longer makes your hand cramp up. I can manage about 15 per exercise at the moment.
If you're hypermobile, be especially gentle.
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
Like a month ago I messaged a craft group about accessibility for wheelchairs and the answer I got was “there’s a lot of stairs but we have cute boys who can carry you”. And it’s…not good. As a wheelchair bound person I largely depend on people when I want to go out and do *anything* so I’m used to it, I laugh it off, make an annoyed post about it and off I go. But I wanna just say a thing real quick.
Even if I wasn’t gay, wasn’t a survivor scared of men, getting help as a disabled person is just…Not a pleasant thing to us! Imagine for a sec how you’d feel being carried up a flight of stairs. You’re a grown person. You’re being touched in an awkward way. You’d rather do it yourself. You’re So Uncomfortable. It’s not where I look for the beginning of a romantic relationship. So like…could abled people stop doing this thing where they think helping us in a condescending and infantilizing way is cute? Cause I’m real tired. Just get me a ramp or lift and I’m cool. I don’t need a dating service when I’m just trying to go about my day
If you’re abled please reblog it cause like…the more ppl knows the better
you need to be more normal about fwb. no, fwb don’t strip you of your dignity. they are not unhealthy. sexual relationships are not bad. it’s not weird to want them and not romance. friends can fuck. you don’t have to be involved romantically to be intimate with someone. that includes all sorts of physical touch because you are also not normal about platonic non-sexual touch. it’s not weird if friends cuddle, sleep in one bed, hold hands or kiss. friends can be affectionate with each other. it doesn’t mean they are romantically attracted to each other. nor does it mean they will ever be in a romantic relationship. you need to be more normal about touch and sex in general.