#the pound

[just-dol-headshots]

you don’t happen to have some girl pups at your dog pound too, do you? >:]

Come back some time later and she may be up for some visiting! Who knows though, our stud could take a liking to her…

( feat. puppygirl form @fraternum-momentum )

[dollya-robinprotector]

See you at... the P O U N D

[cafeyote]

new adopts on my th!! go look go look!!!

A community for collaborative character creation and trading, worldbuilding and roleplay.

come get ur coyoteslop

[coffeeyote]

WOOF WOOF!!!!

this character is available as an adoptable on my KO-FI! if you like their design please consider buying them or if you like my style, i have five commission slots open!

[lesbiansandgayssupporttheminers]

Aren’t the tories meant to be the party of business or something? The party of disaster capitalists more like.

This affects everyone in the UK btw, because we buy oil (among other things) in dollars. This means for every pound the country spends on oil, we now get less oil, making things like petrol and electricity more expensive.

Pound against the euro is also doing crap. We buy (obviously) a lot of things from countries that use the euro, from pharmaceuticals to food to water purifying chemicals, so watch all of those things get more expensive too.

The pound doing rubbish also affects interest rates (i.e. it sends them up) so this affects anyone with debt, including a mortgage. If you’ve got a variable rate mortgage, payments could shoot up soon. This includes (potentially) buy to let landlords, so expect rent rises/evictions, also.

Now imagine the provision of essentials, and being able to afford them wasn’t in the hands of nutters and gamblers?

[kemetic-dreams]

[Spoken Interlude: Big Pimpin' Delemond + Dr. Dre] A player, only plays for so long, then he's played out A hustler, only hustles for so long, then he's hustled out A pimp only pimps for so long, and that's for life For all the pimps I've known, it's been pimp or die A whore, a whore only whores for so long, before she's whored out Put that on this life To play these games on the field of life Is a very hard game to play on Yeah put that on somethin That's so damn flossy like a trip to the tailor, and the parlor Don't even matter about the dollar When I hit the streets the whores gon' holler If dripping wool is gonna shine to blind Hypnotically to the flow of my pen It's gonna let you know, that I come to peel with my whore But somebody's gotta do it, somebody's gotta win at it Because the game's never gonna stop Champagne bottles gonna still be popped Like the players at the top, of their game Like Daz, Kurupt, the Pound Put that on this life Yeah, and a girl, can give up that ass for free, for only so long Then she's labelled a whore, might as well get paid Cause treasure, is the pleasure that the girl sells all day Better hit the corner, let's get La-Di-Da-Di Pay me enough money so I can share it with everybody Like La-Di-Da-Di, let's go and have this party Like the Megatron Mack from the year two thousand Yeah we bringin it back, we bringin it back Cool we G-yeah, kick some smooth shit

[ckbookish]

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

We've Never Been the Pick of the Litter

“Bruce, honestly is this necessary?” Tim fidgeted in the passenger seat of the car uncomfortably.  The bandana across his eyes was starting to feel hot, as the summer sun blazed through the windshield.  Even with the AC on, the black fabric was quickly heating up.

“Yeah.  It’s a surprise.  You can’t be surprised if you see where we are going.”  Bruce spoke in a low rumble.  One that Tim often associated with amusement.  He hoped whatever Bruce was up to they would get there fast.

When the car finally came to a stop, Tim only hesitated for the half second it took for Bruce to start to say ‘okay’ before ripping the cloth from his face.

Bruce laughed, taking it from him and putting it in the car’s console.

Tim blinked.  He didn’t understand.  That was--

“Well?”  Bruce asked, something off in his voice.

Tim turned to him and realized for the first time,  Bruce was nervous.  He did a good job hiding it, but he was.  Tim could see in the way he held his hands pressed to the fabric of his pant legs and the slight pinch between his eyes.

“The pound?”  Tim wasn’t sure why Bruce would think this a surprise.   Sure Tim was indeed surprised that Bruce would take him to the pound, but it didn’t merit the nervousness Bruce was exuding.  Tim wondered what he was missing.  Perhaps he had forgotten a case about the pound in Gotham.  Or maybe Bruce had mentioned something to do with the Trust’s fund for animals and it had slipped his mind.

“Yeah.”  Bruce started to lift a hand as if to set it on Tim’s knee, but then thought better of it and laid it back down on his own leg.  “I thought-- well, you said--”  Bruce cleared his throat.  “I thought you might like to pick out something.  You don’t have to if you don’t want to, but… I thought we could at least look and see if you liked anything.”

Tim sat his jaw hanging open slightly.  “You don’t like pets.”

Bruce blinked.  “Sure I do.”

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