radriendil

[radriendil]

Magican resending a hand full of cards: pick a card, any card

Me: Black Lotus

Magican: no, I meant from my hand

Me: then it's not really any card, is it

Magican: fine lifts his hat, revving a card laying on top his head is this your card?

Me: now it is, thanks dude runs away with my new card

Magican: they don't pay me enough

[radriendil]

Your average trans girl relationship be like.

[radriendil]

[radriendil]

Stand behind your doll.

Rub your thumbs along the intricate ball and socket joints of her wrist and fingers. Press your other hand into the synthetic softness under her pretty clothes.

Marvel that the thing in front of you used to be a person. She worked so hard to make herself not-a-person. You can't fathom why.

Play with her. A person would object to having someone else's fetishes forced on her. The doll has no agency to smother, she threw hers away a long time ago.

That delicate hand conforms so naturally to the glamour-length, notice-me cigarette you've offered her. She smiles like the women in old glossy magazine ads. It doesn't really matter whether she likes the minty taste and smell, or whether she has to struggle to suppress her own cough reflex, or what she feels about the scent that will cling to her brushable hair and skin and clothes.

A person would object to these things. This is a doll. It doesn't matter what she's thinking. She probably isn't thinking at all.

Head empty. Lungs full.

Put your hand on her and feel her chest rise with each gentle puff. Adjust her shoulder and elbow and wrist with soft touches to show her the bitchy angle to hold her cigarette. Feel the clever points of articulation at each joint. Watch her mouth open. Watch her breasts pull against the fabric of her clothes with her inhalation.

Show her how to make each exhale the performance you want. Follow the plume of smoke as it jets from her smiling lips. Look how it starts to gather in the still air around you both. Her smoke will cling to you, too. It will settle in your hair and your clothes. The doll's performance wraps around you and it will refuse to let go.

Play with the doll. Watch her hold the cigarette like a wicked, delicate little wand, making blue-grey ribbons in the air. Watch the curve of her smile. Look at her eyes sparkle. Don't read too much into her eyes. She isn't a person.

Whisper words into her soft, synthetic ear and watch her repeat them back to you, talking through her next careless exhalation. Each syllable becomes a cute little puff of poison. Keep whispering to her. Squeeze her tits. Grind against her. She is so pliant and soft.

Play with your doll again and again. Don't read anything into the sparkle of her eyes. Head empty, lungs full.

Play with your doll. You can't remember if the blanket of thickening smoke bothered you. Did it sting your eyes? Did hers always sparkle like this? Was her smile always so wide?

You barely need to show the doll what to do. You touch her anyway, just for the joy of moving her and feeling her body against yours. She murmurs through her exhales.

You can't remember if you told her what to say. You can't remember if these are the words you told her to use.

Listen to your doll. Listen so carefully. Set your breathing in counterpart to hers. Breathe out when she breathes in. Open your mouth and wait to take what she gives you. Did the doll always exhale cigarette smoke in your face? Did she always laugh while she did it?

Let her pose you as she empties herself of pretty, minty smog. Watch her careful, articulated hands enclose yours. It takes time to have hands like hers. She tells you that you have to practice, over and over, again and again. It's important to practice. The doll's eyes are vivid with predatory glee as she carefully slips a glamour-length, notice-me cigarette between your first and second fingers. It's important to practice.

She guides your hand to your mouth, and a body conditioned by minty, sticky pollution. She clicks the lighter that she took from you. Seal your lips around the filter. It's important to practice.

Fill yourself.

[radriendil]

I have definitely reblogged this before, but I'm doing it again. Get educated. Get absolutely researched the fuck up.

Found this on facebook but reposting to SAVE A LIFE.

Or at least some of y’all’s GPAs.

You’re welcome.

[radriendil]

Vladislava Galagan

[radriendil]

figure 1: burial of a princess with grave goods indicative of her station

[radriendil]

where's my magical lactation inducing cookies???

[radriendil]

everyone on replies is terrified of this fact but i just think it's so sweet and heartwarming. she's holding our hand and leading us somewhere secret and we're both giggling like kids. i love her

[radriendil]

purity seal that just says "FUCK IT WE BALL" for the entire length of the parchment paper

[radriendil]

i love it when italians argue about italian. like we don’t even know how our language really works we just roll with it

[radriendil]

Got some work in on the shading on my butt today.

[radriendil]

I'm a simple lass. I see Pride Month boobs, I reblog them.

MEN DNI 🔪🔪🔪

Unfiltered 🤎🤎🤎

[radriendil]

the white suit tho

[radriendil]

Waow two tawog posts in one day

[radriendil]

The real thing with ADHD is not "I forgot", but that forgetting is this ongoing process. I remembered! And then I forgot.

At ten this (hypothetical) morning I remembered that I have a meeting at six. And then from 11 through 3 I worked on other stuff and had zero thoughts about that meeting. Maybe even thought about what I was gonna do with my evening at home. Got attached to the idea of taking the time to make a good dinner, maybe play some video games.

And then at three I said, "Oh! Fuck!" and remembered again, hopefully long enough to set an alarm. And then I went to the bathroom and remembered that I need to clean the counter and spent twenty minutes cleaning the bathroom and went to get a snack and then at five I said, "OH! FUCK!" and had to scramble to dress like a real adult and get out the door.

It isn't one clean forgetting. It's a constant process of forgetting and then, with an exhausting adrenaline spike, remembering. And then forgetting. Baby, I can forget the same thing more times in a day than you ever forgot your parents' anniversary.