the lamb⠀ ҈

have you made the right turn? // above 18 // writings

[askfucktoyfelix]

honestly same like when i first heard handholding "jokes" in about 2008 i was mildly amused but i've had to listen to that same fucking punchline over and over again for a decade and a half and it's nauseating

nothing wrong with being vanilla but if youre coming into kink spaces to brag about being vanilla I'm cocking my shotgun and telling you to get off my property

[chattyyfemme-deactivated2025060]

why even wear short skirts if no lesbians are going to respectfully objectify me? :/

[zegalba]

Chloe White: Cuckoo Settles Down (2006)

[cocaineskinnycom-deactivated202]

you should try esoteric practice of stabbing yourself in the stomach

[sizhens-deactivated20250415]

transfem t4t happens for any number of reasons not the least of which is that it's beautiful and wonderful and connecting, but the reality is that it also happens because quite frankly almost every transfem i know has had a horrific experience of a relationship with a tme transgender person who was viciously abusive and transmisogynist to them and happily and readily wielded transmisogyny as a weapon.

[sizhens-deactivated20250415]

I've already gotten so many responses to this post from transfems sharing their own experiences with this kind of violence. it breaks my heart. i wish this world could deserve us. i wish that none of us had to be hurt like this ever again. it breaks my heart and it fills me with anger. you all deserved so much better than you got. you deserved to be treated with love and dignity. by god, we must repair this world.

[sizhens-deactivated20250415]

I've already had one jackass comment about "not participating in tme/tma discourse" and basically calling me a bigot on this post, so let me just say: the reality is that this happens. i'm sorry if that fucking offends your sensibilities or makes your pick-me anxieties buzz or whatever the fuck but the reality is that this happens. and that there are real human costs to these kinds of power structures being allowed to infiltrate into interpersonal violence. and that transgender women are gender oppressed among gender oppressed and that we are frequently and casually subjected to gendered violence. including by loved ones, who choose to wield the gendered power they have over us as a weapon. and i'm sorry if that upsets you, Woman With A Trans Man Husband. but the reality is that even if you are so lucky as to have never been subjected to gendered violence by your husband, not all of us have had such luck in our own lives. And frankly I think if we were cisgender you would understand immediately the severity of the fucking gall to say "Fuck you for saying that Husbands Hurt Their Wives, I Have A Husband and he's never hurt me!" Like do you fucking hear yourself. People use gendered violence against us because it's easy, because they can get away with it; because it's powerful, and it affords material benefits to their lives; and because they do not view us as equals to them.

That we might all be so lucky as to have never had this experience but I think the evidence from the myriad of comments on this post alone speaks to the prevalence of this phenomenon.

My heart breaks for my sisters who are sequestered in prisons of one-bedroom apartments, trapped in abusive relationships with TME people who will knowingly and gleefully exploit their vulnerability and precarity for their personal benefit. they treat us like toys and use us in every way that matters and then when we have the audacity to request we be treated as humans they attempt social murder upon us, frequently to their success. So many of my sisters live silent lives where their sobs are never heard behind closed doors they will never leave from. And frankly I think if you have such a callous heart about their plight I think you have some fucking soul searching to do.

[peachesxncream]

Pierced nipples might taste like house keys but there’s nowhere like home

[hi-im-kaybee]

i gotta pay some bills now. you should consider throwing money at me so i can do that. also you will get some art in return. message me here or on discord (@_kaybee) to get started. static, readable version below.

[butchbait4butch]

hey transfems, i don't know which of you need to hear this but it's okay to never use your penis during sex if you don't want to. it's okay to tell your partner not to touch it, to ignore it even, and hold them to respecting that boundary, no matter how many times you've had sex with them, or even if you've had sex with them with your penis involved.

you're not weird or broken for having needs or having boundaries, and you deserve lovers who respect those needs and boundaries. as someone who knows first hand, it's not worth it not to speak up.

this is a post for bottoms, switches, and tops. for subs or dom/mes. for anyone who feels like their no will go unheard or that the only reason people are sexually interested in you are those who want a woman with a dick. i promise you there are people who are out there who will listen, who will get you, and who will treat you how you deserve.

in fact? that's the absolute base line that anyone deserves during sex, and you deserve that and so much more.

[certifiedsexed]

Certified Sex Ed Post!

[hi-im-kaybee]

fun with hair styles

[bekabfotbek193647291]

Blacking your victims eye

A rack focused "how to" guide

Step 1: brace tour victims head. As ive said before, the real risk with hits to the head are concussions and neck injuries. So pin them to the ground, push them up against a wall, grab them firmly by the hair, whatever, just make sure they're not gonna get whiplash.

Step 2: hit them, carefully. A black eye is bleeding in the tissue surounding the eye, you dont actually want to damage their eye at all. For my money slapping is the easiest and most enjoyable. If you place your pam over your eye youll feel that the raised parts of your palm line up nicely with your eye socket leaving your eye almost untouched. Plus with a slap you can really let loose, hit them as hard as you can theres very little risk so long as their neck is supported. Punching is also good, your fist is wider than their eye socket so you can probably hit the socket withput hitting their eye so long as their eyes arent set to far forward and you knuckles arent too big. You are hitting bone so be careful you dont break your hand. Dark hourse pick: knee, put them on their knees grab the back of their head and slam it into your knee. Any impliment will work but when you put your foot on the side of their head and swing at them with a golf club just make sure youre careful not to hot their eye, and be careful not to hit so hard that you fracture the bone.

Aftercare. Fluids, snacks, rest, and emotional support as always. Black eyes will heal themselves in time but there are things to look out for. Bruising and a possibly a bloodshit eye are normal, bleeding inside the eye is a serious medical emergency. Any changes to vision i.e. sustained blurryness, double vision, etc. Severe eye pain or heaches that wont go away, nausia and dizzyness, fainting, blood somewhere it shouldnt be. All of those are signs something is wrong and you should get them to a doctor.

Dont ice it. Do not. Yes it will reduce swelling yes it will feel a bit better. But swelling is a normal and important part of the healing process and inhibiting the swelling will slow down the healing

Do give them pain meds as needed.

[cerberus-sin]

I am Goddess, and last night I was offered a sacrifice. I took this pitiful creature and inspected it. I needed to ensure it was properly cleansed and spiritually purified for me. It was then restrained, face down, with both hands behind the head and elbows out, the most defenseless of positions. it's comfort was ensured, with pillow supports under its chest and head, and in order to distract from the coming pain, a vibrator was set against its cock, legs held in place. This allowed me to set about my work. I carved my marks into it, and as the pain shot through it, so too did the pleasure building and mixing. I denoted it as my Angel, and couldn't help myself but suffer a taste of its sweet human blood. once I was sure of my carvings, I first stretched it out with an implement of my choice, used that to continue to fuck it's ass, and then slid myself inside. I fucked it until it felt my holy gift inside, and I forced it to cockwarm me well after we were done moving. I let it out of its restraints, now fully a broken down toy, ready to serve Goddess with all it was. What a wonderful gift to myself. I made sure it came a couple times more, and then on this morning, I fucked it again while it slept. Such a good toy for Goddess. It begs and begs and doesn't even know what for. What a lovely wretched thing I have now.

[ofthelamb]

what if hounds were cats, too?

first, reinforcements came. while this was a regular occurrence since the front fell back to our station some months ago, these newcomers were scientists and internal staff, with quite a few police guards among them. chatter grew quieter as we had operational security training after training, but the melancholic absence in the air didn't last long.

prisoner shipments came with screams. interspersed with spiky mutterings, shrieks and shouts filled the halls from any number of rooms, even seeming to come from ventilation ducts and medical facilities. unlike every abomination this war brought upon us, unlike the hounds, unlike magnetic infiltration, unlike waste reuse, we could never get used to the ambient noises. they always changed, always chilled bones- i'll describe them, but don't judge me for how. they really got to all of us in the later months.

the noises grew more.. conniving? like they had dirt on us, like they could lash out and dangle us from claws anywhere we went. whoops and hollers were more common, as if when the pain left their makers they hungered to cause pain in others. again- i know you can't tell things like this from noises, but we were all behaving irrationally around that time. something about how the war was going and the cold, wet food we had that month in the mess hall really impacted people.

the war turned around about that time, inexplicably. the constant grueling missions dropped off almost instantly, and i had a lot of free time once the medical department had less and less serious injuries to treat. while most people were exuberant, i think the lack of work got to me- i began to see things in the darkness, lengthening shadows, strange scratches around. while the echoing whoops faded, the mutters remained.

i saw them for the first time a few weeks later, a collection of strangely tall soldiers in the mess hall, all gathered together in a closed circle, whispering across their bowls of some strange meat porridge. the sounds haunting me for the past.. months? came from that table and the small, rapid mouths resting below mischievous but gaunt eyes. they had the same slick jumpsuits as the hounds, with a light mesh cloak over their shoulders, front, and back. their hair--no, ears--twitched towards wherever they listened, including anyone passing behind them.

the first handler came into the operating room that day, stomach splayed open and gashes littered across their intestines. the file was completely empty and read-only, with no questions being answered by the guards who brought her in. i did my job, but i couldn't sleep that night. what could have happened to a handler, supposedly the best of the best, remaining always in the control room hanging above the hangar?

i went to check in on my patient, like normal, and tried to carefully probe what happened- i try to not reignite trauma in my patients, but i was too curious to obey my oath. my colleagues have done worse, i told myself. the handler was awake and strangely joyful, mentioning how much they love their 'darling' and not much else. she asked for a notepad and began sketching some sort of diagram, labeling the top as 'MOUSER RESTRAINT CONCEPT'.

lmk if you want more of this! also if you have any added ideas please share. proofread by my darling puppy @hi-im-kaybee

[ofthelamb]

going to make another one of these soon, lmk anything you want to see in it in the asks

[unroxyfication]

you pull a knife on me and mug me and i start breathing so heavy and get so flushed that you get creeped out and leave

[jill-the-succubus]

Inari Okami - Vivid Shadows

Humans are simple creatures, and their perception of reality is fragile. They’ll ignore what’s clear to the eye if your words are sweet enough. Be clever enough, and they won’t be able to see the difference between a fox and a goddess. Be charming enough, and they’ll treat you accordingly.

[mothercain]

what’s the best body part in your opinion

i think the back is a phenomenal work of art

[mothercain]

what is the significance of power lines and electrical towers to the new project? I love it so much

i find them very erotic

[mothercain]

Hello very much :)

I thought about making a video on this topic but I decided to just write it out in a post instead. Either way, I'd like to speak a bit more specifically about a drunk rant I made on a separate account the other day that was not as well put together as I'd like to stand as my viewpoints on the subject.

tl:dr, I just feel as though there's a lack of sincerity in the world these days. I speak from personal experience as an artist putting things out into the world, yes, but also as a human being interacting with other human beings on the regular, and I have had my sentiments echoed by many other friends of mine over the past year or so, both artists and non-artists alike. Most of this will be framed through the consumption of art, because that's my own personal passion in this life of mine, but also the way we interface with each other and process the world around us. Now, don't get me wrong, I love to laugh. I love a good joke, and I love lightheartedness as much as the next person. But I saw someone this morning put it very succinctly in response to my rant, something along the lines of "don't let the joke about it overtake the source material." It feels as though it's a common occurrence these days to take a pinch of something with a lot more weight to it, often a humorous bit, and then run with it. Everyone then gathers around the pinch to ooh and ahh and consume it as a whole. Context is immediately lost, the legacy of that body of work becomes its own caricature, and anyone discovering that body of work via said caricature may forgo a piece of art they would otherwise love because "there's nothing there". And don't think this is me griping at those making jokes at the expense of my art. I make jokes about my own art. But when the joke dies, yet continues to grow, and spread, and finds its way back to me both on the internet and off for months (or, God forbid, years) to come, I can't help but say to myself; what the fuck is happening. Artists have fled the public and all their outlets for personality and expression outside the medium because they feel ridiculed. It's not even just their art. Katya comes to mind, speaking on how she went on youtube live a few years back in literal tears talking about police brutality and the injustices marginalized communities were facing at the hands of the government. Meanwhile, the entire comment section "yass" and "mother"ed her in barrages, not paying attention to anything she had to say. I get asked about when I'm dropping Preacher's Daughter vinyl en masse in response to my Palestine fundraiser links. It's everywhere and it's inescapable. No one can be serious for even two seconds.

This may all sound obnoxious; so be it. I tie strings from this central problem to many other complaints I have heard repeated ad nauseam the past few years. For example; the death of subculture. Goth, punk, whatever, you name it. People who built an underground counterculture movement with a rich history based on a love of art, community, and otherwise misunderstood worldviews and experiences deemed foul or inappropriate. Now we see bits taken from it, the terms and the looks, without any of the meat, spread thin across society as a whole. Words mean nothing anymore. One can rest on history and say they were a part of it when in fact, they did nothing. No appreciation or understanding to be had for the love and passion that built it. No serious interaction with the culture's very real confines and boundaries, just mindless co-opting. This has just as much to do with late stage capitalism as it does with excessive humor in lieu of sincerity, but it's certainly both. Again, this may sound like a silly complaint, but I don't care. The collective ennui we're all experiencing has a very real reason, whether we're ready to acknowledge or not.

In a twisted thread, it's even tied to our lack of care to change the world around us. People cheer on the idea of communism, but who among us is ready to give up the convenience of society as it stands? Amazon prime, doordash, fresh fruit out of season as I saw someone mention in a similar post last week; the marvels of modern technology. Do we really think these things can last in a society that isn't actively destroying the planet? We talk about the idea of something all day long but have very little to do with the actuality of what we're talking about. And don't think I consider myself exempt from this problem. I couldn't even try to claim to be. It seems nearly silly to be complaining, then, about the way people consume the art around them these days as we creep towards what feels like the end of days. But as long as I still draw breath, I must complain.

I miss genuine passion. As an autistic individual, when I'm alone, sometimes I cannot contain myself with how things make me feel. The music I listen to, the video games I play, the books I read. I almost feel the need to run through the house and scream in everyone's face how I'm feeling. It feels good to love intensely. Now, I won't pretend like autistic people haven't been bullied for this since the dawn of time, but there is surely a noticeable lack of passion in everything these days. Everyone can feel it, everyone is talking about it. Everything now is "cringe", or "doing too much", or "not that serious". Actually, it is that serious. Insecurity in one's own deeper feelings may not be a new thing, but a culture that seems to promote this eschewing of them does seem to be a new evil. The tone of the internet has completely shifted. I spent most of my time here when I first discovered it a little over a decade ago on Zelda forums and other chat-based websites, talking about how much I loved whatever fandom I was in at the time and having genuine and memorable interactions with like-minded individuals who felt the same way I do. Now, you have two options; if you hate media, you rip it to shreds, and if you love it, you word-salad it to death and parrot a joke about it that someone else said. I'm not saying people don't still talk seriously in a heartfelt way about the things they love, but it does not seem to be the initial reaction anymore. Do I have a solution to this problem? Of course not. I'm a 26 year old girl posting on a tumblr blog. If I had a solution, this is not where I would be dropping it. But conversation is God to man, and I believe in the ability to change things from the inside out. We make the rules, and we can change them.

Before I go, I'd like to just clarify that I am very grateful for my career, grateful to anyone who has ever given me and my art the time of day, grateful to anyone who has ever come up to me and connected with me over my work, and grateful for a life where someone making too many jokes is the worst part of my day. I do not think I am better nor smarter than anyone on or off the internet. I am simply a girl with big feelings and I enjoy talking about them with other people with big feelings, and it makes me sad when something avoidable or unnecessary gets in the way of that.

All in all, I love to love, and I love all of you, I love my life, I love this record, and mi amore vo- i mean.... oh, whatever.

(Feel free to sound off in the comments and please be nice to each other)