#women#beautiful#single
LightNews LightNews
kevinmkruse.bsky.social
There’s this weird thing where the media keeps running profiles of different women telling me that people “hate her because she’s beautiful” and every single time I have to pause for a second to ask “wait, people think she’s beautiful”?
December 29, 2025 at 11:22 PM
bloodsad.bsky.social
everyone i am humbly requesting thousands of dollars so that i can comfortably draw women every single day. ill do so good at it you wont believe. ill change the world. i just need thousands of dollars. please believe in me. the only thing i want is to draw beautiful women
December 30, 2025 at 3:18 PM
charredasperity.bsky.social
Me: Chubby women are beautiful
Also me: I am a unlovable monster if I am a single pound over 100.
January 1, 2026 at 7:36 AM
aminaleeds.bsky.social
#Critterary 2. Vampires

In Gods of the Deep series there is lore about the Sirannavey. A species of beautiful toad-like women with powerful magic who drink 🩸. They can resurrect life w/a single kiss or decimate demons with acidic spit. Their species were burned at the stake during the witch trials
January 2, 2026 at 4:05 PM
exhibitphotopdx.bsky.social
The hit/miss ratio is a never-ending struggle. It seems worst when it's the people I enjoy the most!
@herstillnessdances.bsky.social #muse #longing #artmodel #dancer #vacation #roadtrip #home #oregon #pdxphotographer #stilllifewithdancer. More in the alt-text.
I met Lael on the side of the road in a desert. We exchanged smiles and headed up the hill to find a sunny meadow and dive into some silliness and art. Like a lot of art-models, she has an easygoing exterior and an internal drive to make something of each moment. I enjoyed her immediately and we've seen each other at least once a year since as she travels between home, school and tours. Like a lot of my favorite people, however, I have really beaten myself up for failing to translate the moments into a format the camera can understand and relay. This is, quietly, one of my favorites, it turns out. One from that desert. One particularly fetching swoop during a dance next to a lake. But by any standard that's a disappointing ratio. My answer to that with other models has been to double down and work harder and I guess that's where the progress comes from. Lael lives JUST far enough away to make it difficult to connect, however, and this winter fell through as an opportunity. Sadness. Apart from simply being the perfect "girl next door" beauty, she's a great PERSON and I feel like spending time with her makes me somehow better too. In a larger sense, my challenge with all this is a larger one. The other day I ran across an internet trove of terrible (and some not so bad) photography. It underscores my ongoing dialectic regarding nude art/model photography in general. Page after page after page ad nauseam of technically-well-shot boobs. Butts. Some of it was new enough to qualify as "bop" material (which is HIGHLY unsettling as we mainstream barely-legal sexuality while not releasing the Epstein files). There's no question that the picture here exists on a spectrum of voyeurism and eroticism (subtle as it may be) that includes bop girls, full-on porn, and ballerinas. Movie starlets and sexual implication for all. I've spent the last couple weeks chewing through these thoughts. I'm aware of myself as a trope (older man picks up camera!) even if I don't recognize myself as "older", even if I'll argue against it. I generally see my local photography community in a good light. But then I see the guys who make a point of including a shot of themselves with their models on their laps, an implication of intimacy that is incredibly shallow and easily disproven. There's the unrelenting sameness of glamour nudes -- lingerie, baby oil, great lighting, skin retouching. There's a guy in England who shoots every single model in the same abandoned factory or the guy in Austria whose models are all being led out of a lake by a leash, water dripping off their well-oiled and harnessed bodies. Both are great shots but both guys have executed them hundreds of times. Do they not get bored? Is there such a market for sameness? I've tried going back and revisiting places or concepts and it's never quite got the same creative fire. My first shoot with Lucy.Artmodel was EPIC despite my technical ignorance and I've chased that dragon in that environment repeatedly, unsuccessfully, disappointedly. Mostly, though, I find myself ranging widely and wildly. Masks, fabrics, plastic. Forest, meadows, water. The occasional hotel or rental house. Part of the FUN is finding new places, taking trips with friends, seeing the world through the eyes of someone who hasn't been here before and sharing that experience. None of that seems present in the grind of studio work. At the same time, I've seen some really great studio work. The aforementioned-Lucy in jeans and a jacket in NYC - amazing. Her personality shines through. I've seen some great backdrop work with a model going through faces and emotions. Impressive. Well executed. I'm more interested in intimacy...and failure. Which probably says a lot about ME. I don't want to become an expert at THIS shot. I want to see what's next. The female nude has been part of human art since we pressed clay into shapes with our hands. I find women particularly beautiful and engaging in a way that I simply don't with men (not that I won't shoot with a dude, there's just fewer in this realm). I don't mean to pooh-pooh the glamour shot or the so-called "empowerment" of boudoir or even straight-up porn. There's no shortage of podcasts with comely young women espousing the benefits they've found in online porn. The art nude sits in an uneasy space. For a lot of us it's therapy, self-guided or subconscious. It's a story we can tell or a memory we can hold. I had a whole series of wives who hated being dragged along on my roadtrips and subjected to gorgeous places -- discovering a tribe of women who have made such a thing their entire raison d'être was liberating as hell. I didn't have to MARRY them to enjoy their company! I don't suffer any delusions of grandeur in my photography, if only because I see others in my community documenting the same women in the same general fashion and often much more capably. I see all my failures and it keeps me humble. Often, too, it is the models eye for location and detail that inspire them to perch uncomfortably on a fallen log and make it look good. I'm just here to choose an environment and maybe a prop and execute the support roles! What I can say about nude art/model photography is that I have come to love the entire genre very very much. I adore the tribe of amazing women who trail inspiration in their wake as they navigate the world. I am constantly grateful to document them and break bread around a campfire with some wide-ranging gossip. It's just a good time. So I'll continue to hope for an alignment of calendars and a destination and my bag of Nikons ready to ride off to the sunset. '- )
December 30, 2025 at 3:47 AM
spookycoochiegawd.blacksky.app
Every single one of these women were beautiful!! Letoya’s face card was so lethal to me. Kelly BEEN fine her whole life. LaTavia was always stunning. Beyonce definitely wasn’t the ONLY pretty one.
rightmind215.bsky.social SantaBlack @rightmind215.bsky.social · 7d
I will always remember someone describing Beyoncé as “the pretty one from Destiny’s Child.”

Beyoncé obviously IS pretty. But *the* pretty one? No. NO. That’s colorism.

There is no healthy way you could look at any version of that group and say that only one of them is pretty.
December 27, 2025 at 11:34 PM
echofarandfaint.bsky.social
Okay...I couldn't stop thinking about -- them --- and Ilya in episode 4 talking about how New York is his favorite city because "is New York" and the women are hot

well

how about suffer instead

#hollanov #heatedrivalry
It’s New York so Ilya is happy. The city is a grid, so he rarely gets lost. The weather is freezing but the girls are beautiful and anyway, if there’s one thing he’s used to it’s cold. The inside of the clubs are still as warm as a sauna, and anyway a Manhattan winter is a pale imitation of a Moscow one. Born for the ice, people used to say about him when he skated as a kid. Cold to the very heart, Sasha had said to him once, as though he had a poetic side, you’re no good, Ilyushka. Cold-hearted. That was an Americanism Ilya had learned recently from a hockey commentator. Cold-hearted Rosanov, he leaves it all on the ice. The problem was, he didn’t. There was a reserve of hot-blooded want running through him and it belonged to a dark-haired captain for Montreal…but tonight he was not thinking about that. He was not thinking about Hollander. He was not thinking about Shane, as he’d called him last time they were together, like a fucking idiot. Like a lovesick kid writing poetry for his girlfriend. Dear Shane, With Love From Ilya. Hollander is just a shadow, a blank space at the back of Ilya’s brain that he can fill with liquor and loud music and strobe lights and short skirts and his tongue down someone else’s throat. Or at least, that was what he’s trying to do here, in the sticky Bushwick club Svetlana has dragged him too, with a few shots of tequila in him and a sheen of sweat glittering across his skin. Svetlana has a line of gems across her eyebrow and a look in her eyes that tells him he can fuck her tonight if he wants to. But there are lots of girls here and not one of them knows he plays for Boston, or that he’s falling behind on his goal average for the season, or that, when the beat drops and it vibrates through Ilya’s chest it feels like seeing Shane Hollander roll out onto the ice. It feels like hearing the crowd screaming but knowing that it was him, cold-hearted Ilya Rosanov, that had drawn those fucking whimpers and moans out of Hollander, the same Shane Hollander who, with beeseeching dark eyes had looked up from between Ilya’s knees and whispered please. Ilya was not thinking about Shane Hollander. It’s New York, so Ilya is happy. But even amongst the heaving sweat of dancing bodies, the warm thrum of a crowd moving to a single beat, he shivers. The heat doesn’t reach his heart.
December 28, 2025 at 9:10 PM
fatedtime.bsky.social
A comic about art, trauma, and learning to love yourself. (1/2)

[ #FGO ]
Panel one: Kama's face, but half if it is broken off to form the word Love. Text: The world is obsessed with it, but to me, it's a filthy word. Panel two: Parvati's face is covered by a textbox. Text: I'm jealous of the people who have it, who are fulfilled by it. Panel three: Dark Sakura is depicted in shadow, looking away from the camera. Text: I hate those people who never have to feel like their feelings, their bodies, are unclean. Fourth panel: In the dark, blank space between panels, a shattered Kama is holding her head. Text: Surrounded by all those faces when I'm destined to rot and burn is... Panel 5: Hokusai reaches out to the viewer with a brush. She is smiling and speaking. Hokusai: Hey Kama? I think you'd be a wonderful artist. Text: Of all the people in the world, I understand you the least, Katsushika Oei. Why are you holding out a brush to me? Panel 1: One half of the Panel is Kama thinking about Hokusai's normal behavior (kind of flirty, showing her tits.) The other half of the panel is her confronted with the reality: when she's focused, Hokusai is really, really focused on her work. Text: Loving women, wine, and the pleasures of the flesh, she seems like someone who should fall easily to my charms. The next three panels show a sequence of a landscape painting being developed. Text: And yet, as she chattered along beside me, her eyes were glued to her work. Underneath her brush, I saw another reality take shape. Third panel: Kama watching Hokusai as she paints. Hokusai is close to the screen. Text: ...There's nothing she seeks within me. Panel one: Hokusai making Kama put a brush into an ink pot. Text: I told her that I had no interest in painting, but she guided my hands to the ink. Panel two: Kama, with a focused but irritated expression, is holding her brush over the canvas. Hokusai is talking to her. Hokusai: Just make a splash! Anything you want! Big or small, squiggly or straight... whatever you create will be your own.' Third panel: Kama is trying to draw, and at first she seems annoyed, but gradually she gets into it. Text: This is stupid. What's the point? I don't have any talent for this. But maybe... I wanted to get a glimpse of what she's looking at. Maybe I just wanted her to stop bothering me. Panel one: Kama is staring at a pile of her artwork. It's very inexpert. Most of them are impossible to tell what she tried to do, but there's vague shapes of twisted bodies, and a single image of a cat curled up sleeping. Text: I hate this. What am I doing? Panel two: Kama's face in silhouette, her eyes big and expression hollow. Text: Nothing I make is as beautiful as hers. Panel 3: Kama is remembering Hokusai talking to her. Hokusai: Paintin'... is like loving yourself. Text: Is that why I can't stand my own work? Fourth panel: Kama sits in the abyss, in painter's clothes, having torn up her art. Text: Because anything that originates from my heart is too ugly to bear?
December 26, 2025 at 5:11 PM
michajawkan.bsky.social
beautiful women who are single-target if they crit in your area
December 15, 2025 at 5:42 AM
ogmalcontent79.bsky.social
Honestly pathetic.

I lived in Hollywood and was faced with and worked with multiple very beautiful and impressive women every single day, and had respectful relationships with all of them and never considered cheating on my wife even when things were rocky.

This performative nonsense is gross.
December 13, 2025 at 3:58 PM
edithcharles.bsky.social
I am begging people who pretend to be passionate about politics to give a single shit about actual policy.
My wonderful amoureuse Maddie (@bustyboudica.bsky.social) posted a BBC news article — "Catherine Zeta-Jones backlash after age shaming comments" and said: "Bitching about her age and looks when she's one of the most beautiful women on the fucking planet?? Why are men?" Changing the subject for certainly no selfless reason, @jeninmotion.bsky.social then quoted Maddie's post with: "This kind of shit is why women over 40 have no time for your "but Kamala was a bad candidate!" shit. No, you just hate women over 40 b/c they have less time for your rank shit and aren't 100% there for your dick's amusement." Me replying to Jen's post: "Given how treacherously Harris's campaign bilked (and then gaslit) the trans community, this is a cartoonishly thoughtless thing to comment over a trans woman's post." I am blocked without a word for this barely more than a minute later.
December 12, 2025 at 2:54 PM
moodyminx.bsky.social
Why tf are there so many beautiful women on here who are in their 30s and single

Why are yall not being taken care of and loved?
December 8, 2025 at 3:05 AM
itstessinadress.bsky.social
HMMMM.
HMMMMMMMMM.
If only there were SOME way to narrow down this deep and elusive mystery. I do declare it has me more stumped than a logger in a papier mâché forest
Screenshot showing that seven incredibly beautiful incredibly wonderful women who I'm so lucky to know and one random guy liked my most recent selfie post Selfie showing that the one random guy who liked my most recent selfie that also got a mystery save has a bio that describes him as 55, single, and horny, and his two most recent posts have been flagged as adult content
December 7, 2025 at 12:40 PM
princessjennifer.bsky.social
I went down the YouTube rabbit hole watching intentionally single, childfree beautiful women celebrating Thanksgiving and putting up their Christmas trees.

The unbridled joy they experience
without a single man in their space ruining their experiences makes me and my husband so happy.

I love it.
December 5, 2025 at 8:50 AM
shanareviews.bsky.social
Why are Pokemon women perfect?

there's so many beautiful ladies I can't fit them all in a single post...
December 1, 2025 at 9:08 AM
infinite-bagel.bsky.social
Beautiful women named Adobe Acrobat are sending me messages saying "Application Not Responding" for trying to drag a single-page pdf two inches to the right
November 26, 2025 at 7:34 PM
josepinny.bsky.social
I am being threatened by beautiful women online every single day
November 25, 2025 at 12:58 AM
morganmpage.bsky.social
All the most brilliant and beautiful women I know are single, except Lauren and Harron.
November 21, 2025 at 6:15 PM
elvensunday.bsky.social
Quote how you draw women!

Every single woman deserves to feel beautiful and confident 💕

#art #artshare #arttrain
November 21, 2025 at 6:13 AM
mistyswoman.bsky.social
#SpotTheScammer

@charlesteddw.bsky.social "Michael Hickie" - why "Charles" in handle? Claims to be a single dad🚩& a lumberjack🚩exclusively following & engaging with women: "you look beautiful".
Using pics of Paulo Medeiros, stolen from his Instagram account. www.instagram.com/paulomedeiro...
Login • Instagram
Welcome back to Instagram. Sign in to check out what your friends, family & interests have been capturing & sharing around the world.
www.instagram.com
November 21, 2025 at 10:44 AM
mistyswoman.bsky.social
#SPotTheScammer

@echandler340.bsky.social bio: "Single Dad with a beautiful daughter"🚩
Exclusively following women and pestering them to DM.
Using pics of a man whose images are in prolific use by romance scammers; I cannot trace who they belong to. www.fake-scam.info/index.php?ac...
www.fake-scam.info
November 15, 2025 at 10:38 AM
minouette.bsky.social
films & was known as one of the most beautiful women in the world.

In ‘40, spurred by tragic U-boat sinking of a boatload of refugees, she put her mind to national defense. Torpedoes were guided by single frequency radio signals vulnerable to jamming. She had the idea that if multiple frequencies
November 9, 2025 at 2:39 PM
lilac.likes.earth
i just got the most amazing art club mail and one of the things they send is a piece of poetry or prose, october’s is by a palestinian woman and it’s so beautiful and touching
Gate A4 Naomi Shihab Nye Wandering around the Albuquerque Airport Terminal, after learning my flight had been delayed four hours, I heard an announcement: "If anyone in the vicinity of Gate A-4 understands any Arabic, please come to the gate immediately." Well-one pauses these days. Gate A-4 was my own gate. I went there. An older woman in full traditional Palestinian embroidered dress, just like my grandma wore, was crumpled to the floor, wailing. "Help," said the flight agent. "Talk to her. What is her problem? We told her the flight was going to be late and she did this." I stooped to put my arm around the woman and spoke haltingly. "Shu-dow-a, Shu-bid-uck Habibti? Stani schway, Min fadlick, Shu-bit-se-wee?" The minute she heard any words she knew, however poorly used, she stopped crying. She thought the flight had been cancelled entirely. She needed to be in El Paso for major medical treatment the next day. I said, "No, we're fine, you'll get there, just later, who is picking you up? Let's call him." We called her son, I spoke with him in English. I told him I would stay with his mother till we got on the plane and ride next to her. She talked to him. Then we called her other sons just for the fun of it. Then we called my dad and he and she spoke for a while in Arabic and found out of course they had ten shared friends. Then I thought just for the heck of it why not call some Palestinian poets I know and let them chat with her? This all took up two hours. (poem cont.) She was laughing a lot by then. Telling of her life, patting my knee, answering questions. She had pulled a sack of homemade mamool cookies-little powdered sugar crumbly mounds stuffed with dates and nuts-from her bag—and was offering them to all the women at the gate. To my amazement, not a single woman declined one. It was like a sacrament. The traveler from Argentina, the mom from California, the lovely woman from Laredo-we were all covered with the same powdered sugar. And smiling. There is no better cookie. And then the airline broke out free apple juice from huge coolers and two little girls from our flight ran around serving it and they were covered with powdered sugar, too. And I noticed my new best friend-by now we were holding hands-had a potted plant poking out of her bag, some medicinal thing, with green furry leaves. Such an old country tradition. Always carry a plant. Always stay rooted to somewhere. And I looked around that gate of late and weary ones and I thought, This is the world I want to live in. The shared world. Not a single person in that gate-once the crying of confusion stopped —seemed apprehensive about any other person. They took the cookies. I wanted to hug all those other women, too. This can still happen anywhere. Not everything is lost.
November 7, 2025 at 1:05 AM
integrandma.bsky.social
it's so crazy how there's not just like 1 or 2 beautiful Women. it's pretty much every single one of them .
November 5, 2025 at 10:20 PM