herunstablelogic

[herunstablelogic]

"Shaving My Hairy Legs" 13:36 minutes Since I want to take ballet content focusing on my feet, I decided to shave my legs after not doing so in awhile. Why? Because I simply couldn't stand seeing my hairy legs paired with my pointe shoes- it didn't look right! That's okay though because now you get to listen to the sounds of my razor gliding over each of my leg hairs and admiring how slippery smooth they are at the end. Stream | Download

[herunstablelogic]

On the most basic, simple level, requiring those who follow me on non-18+ social media platforms to put a reference to their age in their bio before following me is a useful vetting tool to ward off and remove minors and those who are unwilling or unable to respect a simple boundary in order to gain access to me sexually. If someone is not capable of putting their age in their bio to interact with me, they are not capable of consuming with critical thinking and consenting to the nuanced, kinky media I create so for my safety and theirs I remove every follower who does not state their age, including other industry performers.

[herunstablelogic]

"Everything is political if you're a woman / Trans and Proud, Yessir"

Seen in kadikoy istanbul

[herunstablelogic]

Ever wanted to inhale my sweaty hairy pits? 👀

[herunstablelogic]

Dear Baby,

My mind is a jumbled mess of traumatic events from my adolescence while trying to write the backstory of my novel’s character who’s based on me. I struggle to make up my own detailed events so write what you know, right? It’s cheaper than therapy… but I guess working through your trauma isn’t going to be easy, no matter how you go about it.

[herunstablelogic]

The Woman in the Waves (1868) - Gustave Courbet

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Cozy Girl

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Paul Regnard, Contracture Provoquée, Paris 1887

sketch of Possession and Insanity from rare 1800s manuscripts.

[herunstablelogic]

To the blogs with “all images are taken from the internet- message me for removal” in their bio, the way that reads is “I only care about consent when I get caught violating it.”

Did the random other blog you took the image from get consent to post that person’s nudes? No they didn’t. Why does one degree of separation absolve you from assuring consent? It doesn't.

[herunstablelogic]

Reaching cosmic hands with celestial jewels.

NGC 6188. NASA.

[herunstablelogic]

(18+) lucylarue.com

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Holes ©Philomena Famulok

series “My Self Is A Construct”

[herunstablelogic]

“Bras" (10 min) Lucy tries on a series of bras covering a spectrum of specialties: a black strapless tube bra, a black and purple lace bralette, ye olde beige underwire, a pink and white sports training bra, and a navy blue front-clasping magnetic push-up bra!

[herunstablelogic]

How to Not Spread Nonconsensual Sexual Images on Tumblr

Just take a second to click on the image source:

Are there links, titles, performer names, tags indicating that the original poster created the content and shared it willingly? Perfect! It’s probably consensual! Share that shit.

Is the original poster a blog dedicated to posting other people’s stolen porn? Not consensual.

Don’t know whose body that is? Don’t share it! 

Is your dash full of unsourced (stolen) porn? Simple fix: Unfollow porn theives and follow original creators instead! 

It is not normal to share and spread images of other people’s bodies without their explicit consent. Thank you for checking your reblogs to help make tumblr and the world in general a safer and more consent-oriented place!

[herunstablelogic]

By the “not all men” logic, Russian Roulette is a perfectly safe game to play. Sure, one of the chambers has a bullet in it…

but not all chambers

[herunstablelogic]

The only scene I wrote so far relating to two characters I decided to cut out of the novel, so here's a taste of Renatus:

Screaming; it echoes in the village where blood stains the sandstone walls. Children flee from raised swords but fall limply to the ground. Mothers call out in agony at the sight of her child’s head being held by a shielded warrior. Screaming, all they could hear was screaming. Broad shouldered with a protruding brow, stood Paulus. At the end of his lengthy tan arm a child wiggled, only its hair in the fist of the Roman kept the child from its freedom. Paulus, leader of the raid, let out a bellowed roar and took off the child’s head. Dropping it, a woman screamed.

“No!” She stumbled down onto her knees, weeping over her kin. 

The woman’s husband came at Paulus from behind, announcing his attack with a thundering scream. With a turn of his heel, the Roman raised his shield, repelling the man backward. Another shriek of pain came from the woman as she fled from the scene of her husband’s failed attempt of her rescue. Now angered, Paulus leapt over the unconscious male and after the female, a venomous sneer upon his lips.

“Running will only make it worse!” Paulus roared down the alleyways before passing an open door where moans of satisfaction echoed. He growled and stepped through the threshold, peering into every room. At the far end of the house, a door sat cracked open. With the tip of his sword he pushed the door wide and set eyes upon a man and woman naked in bed. The woman sat upright, staring into his eyes… snickering; he lifted his sword to sheath it.

“Another man to take?” the nude woman stated more than she asked, “Come, join me!”

Paulus, retrieving his eyes from her breasts, noted the dagger in the back of the male whose face was turned down upon the bed; he halted and drew his sword again.

“Tsk… tsk…” the woman slurred staring at the corpse at her waist, “he was a very bad boy,” she giggled lightly, looking up at Paulus with her deep brown eyes.

“Who are you?” Paulus growled intently.

She smirked and nibbled her lower lip, running a hand across her breast, “Whoever you want me to be: Mother or daughter… perhaps?”

Paulus’ brows rose.

“Come hither,” the woman summed him with a wave of her hand.

Setting his sword on a hand-carved desk, Paulus climbed on top of the bed whilst pushing the corpse over the edge where it thumped onto its back. The dagger forced to the hilt into the flesh. The roman soldier sneered at the naked woman and let his hands grip her breasts firmly. Despite his large hands, her breasts still escaped his grasp as gravity took its toll. She stirred, thrusting her pelvis at the touch of his hands on her inner thighs feeling soft warm skin. Paulus frowned that she were already undressed; being that he normally enjoyed stripping his women layer by layer in order to be fully satisfied. But it was no matter; he still pursued her for his body had yearned for the arousal of a willing woman for too many years it seemed.

There was a clawing at his back like needles as he let his lips circle her hardened nipples. The woman let out an aggravated moan of anticipation which called Paulus to growl deeply at the sight of her moaning in agony.

“Drip, drip, drip marks the linen of my father’s bed. It is too bad he had lost his head.” The girl murmured between moans and pulled at the sheets with her finger tips where the corpse’s hand laid. As the roman lifted his lappet, finally submitting to his desires, two sets of loud footsteps came from behind. Paulus ignored the intruders until a voice spoke,

“What a fine woman you have there,” one of his soldiers stated.

“Turn around and go the other way,” Paulus ordered.

The second soldier who swayed, drug his feet closer and grabbing the back of Paulus’ tunic, pulled him off, “I’ll have her,” he slurred.

Drawing his sword, Paulus took off the drunk’s arm, “Don’t interrupt me!”

The topless woman straightened in the bed and grinned. “So pretty!” she clapped in joy as she watched the blood spew from the man’s stump. “I want to play!” the woman chimed as she stood and leaped atop the standing soldier. Her thighs squeezed his ribs and nails clawed deep into his eye sockets; his agony was apparent in his screams.