#i would commit crimes for that face

[lkluvsu]

2024 vs 2023

[frnkiebby]

face

a pretty face that i could look at for eons~🎃

[catcze]

My babyyyyy 🥹😭

[deadpoets]

GILMORE GIRLS 02.07 | Like Mother, Like Daughter

[jackass-jones]

Thinking of vlr Akane is so conflicting cuz on one hand I’m so upset that she doesn’t ever get a moment to just rest and enjoy being alive again I’m upset that she just gets deeper and deeper into this role she’s built for herself and she loses her humanity and will never ever be that girl who died in the incinerator. But on the other hand, I need her to get so, so much worse I need her to be so obsessed with perfection she has this unique ability to change the course of history and she will burn everything and everyone to the ground in the blink of an eye if it means she can "reset" and get a perfect timeline and I desperately need her to never be satisfied with anything because really, is there anything that’s worth all the damage she’s caused?

[deadn30n]

going through the dan heng tag on twitter and i will still never understand why anyone hates him or thinks he's boring??? he's literally so baby i'm putting him in my pocket and taking him away from the haters actually

[xariarte]

doing research on 🏎 fandom and some of it is like: 1) i'm reading most of it against my will and 2) some of this stuff is interesting but i do feel like i'm being drawn to the brink of an intense burning hell

[raphaerolo]

Last line challenge

Rules: in a new post, show the last line you wrote (or drew) and tag as many people as there are words (or as many as you like).

Tagged by the lovely @merlyn-bane

I was (unsurprisingly) working on the little codywan surfer au, doing a design sketch for fox, the resident lifeguard. The last line was the shading above his shorts and as you may notice i'm once again getting carried away with a design sketch 😅

I will draw him some hands eventually... he'll need those to swim...

No pressure tags for @alamogirl80 @pyromanicdaydreamer @chiliger @notthestarwar and @anaclastic-azurite (head honcho of surf au btw)

[wonder-worker]

"It is too easy to dismiss [Leonor of Navarre] as an overambitious schemer who would do anything to obtain a crown, shedding the blood of her own siblings and her subjects in order to attain the throne. However, a deeper investigation of her long lieutenancy and ephemeral reign shows a woman who fought tenaciously to preserve her place but also worked tirelessly to administer a realm which was crippled by internal conflict and the center of the political schemes of France, Aragon, and Castile. She tried to broker peace, fight off those who opposed her, repair the wounds caused by conflict, protect the sovereignty of the realm, and keep the wheels of governance turning. Leonor was not always successful in achieving all of these aims but given the background of conflict and the lack of cooperation she received from all of her family members, bar her loyal husband, it is a huge achievement that she survived to wear the crown at all. Many writers have argued that Leonor deserved the troubled lieutenancy, personal tragedies, an ephemeral reign, and a blackened reputation, basing their assumption that she committed a crime that cannot be [conclusively] proven. However, a more fitting description of her would be that of a resolute ruler who successfully overcame a multitude of challenges in order to survive in a difficult political landscape and gain a hard-fought throne.”

— Elena Woodacre, "Leonor of Navarre: The Price of Ambition", Queenship, Gender and Reputation in the Medieval and Early Modern West, 1060-1600 (Edited by Zita Eva Rohr and Lisa Benz)

[not-poignant]

Baldur’s Gate 3 - 7/? - Palmarosa - Astarion/Raphael

Title: Palmarosa Rating: Explicit Pairing: Astarion/Raphael Tags: (Check AO3 for the full list) Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Deals with a devil, Contracted sexual slavery, Bad BDSM etiquette, PTSD, Communication issues, Flashbacks, Trauma recovery and Retraumatisation, Dark and disturbing themes, Blood consumption, Minor character death, Canon typical violence, Dominance/submission, Top Raphael, Bottom Astarion etc.

Summary: (Set post-game / end-game) The love of Astarion’s life has disappeared to go live in the daylight with the druids, and Astarion is stuck in the darkness once more, yearning for sunlight with every fibre of his being, while bitterly reflecting on all the things that were denied to him in the end - love, sunlight, the option to kill thousands of people and become a near-god…

Raphael knows Astarion’s desperate, and comes to him with not one, but two horrid contract offers that Astarion loathes and dreads in equal measure - but the prize at the end of both are too good to turn down, and he’s become too cynical to care about how much of a good idea it is to give his body to a devil for a month or two, because really, comparatively, how bad could it be?

Palmarosa (Baldur’s Gate 3) - Raphael/Astarion - 07 - Elverquisst and Sulphodor Grapes

In which Astarion wakes in the morning surprised to not be sore, actively tortured, or sleeping on a floor. He breakfasts with Raphael, contemplates his circumstances, and then manages to get cursed multiple times quite by accident...

[atzfilm]

my particular taste in fics is niche enough that i just have to write it myself man...

[thegayestminotaur]

This Blog is Anti-AI

I know I have very few followers, but as more of you become aware of new setting allowing AI to scrape art from blogs and reblogs, I want to make my stance on the issue extremely clear: If I wanted to feed an artificial intelligence algorithm my art, I would have done so myself. Until the AI is fully removed from Tumblr, I will not be hosting my art here. Until the AI is fully removed from Tumblr, I will not be using the site or the app. Until the AI is removed from Tumblr, this is not a safe place for me to exist or express my ideas. I'm sorry if this inconveniences you. I genuinely appreciate all the follows and reblogs y'all have blessed me with. I still have art available on my Patreon, Ko-Fi, Discord, and Twitch. You can find those sites in my pinned post and you can follow my Patreon for free. I'll be restructuring my Patreon in March to allow people to access my SFW art for free, so if that's an option y'all are interested in, feel free to drop a follow there. This is a topic I feel very seriously about. I always said that I wouldn't leave Tumblr no matter how bad things got, but I guess I'm eating my words now. To me, the ability to create art is a quantifiable aspect of the human soul and to have it stripped down and sold for corporate use like this (specifically: without the consent of the artist for data mining and ai training) is indescribably vile.

I think that AI can be used ethically, but this? This ain't it, chief.

[echoes-ofdawn]

why yes i do think i could fix nai with a hug and forehead kiss. think its impossible? sounds like skill issue to me, get LOVED IDIOT

[hxneyfarm]

.

[freakalot]

"did you just spank me?" ☆

choso has wide eyes in the mirror's reflection as they meet yours. glossy and blown out with lust, but wide—nervous, like a deer stuck in headlights. you're bent over, back arched down as your boyfriends hands rest gently on your hips. there's a sting that lingers over your ass, and choso is holding his hand out like he's committed a crime with it.

it's not like he's vanilla—you're being fucked ass-up in front of a mirror so that you can watch him take what's his—but he's frozen still like he's appalled at his own actions.

"oh," he's flushing a gentle pink. "i'm sorry, i don't know why i did that. it was just so much and you were so—i mean... i wasn't thinking and—"

"do it again."

he's still balls deep inside of you—hips pressed tight against the flesh of your ass: his cock pulses inside of you, each veiny ridge filling you out like you're made for him. "why would i do that?"

“because it feels good,” you shrug, pushing back onto his cock a little. "cho, baby, i'm asking you to spank me, not commit a war crime."

"might as well be," he mumbles under his breath, looking down at the curve of your ass at his face scrunches up into an expression you've never seen on him before. is that... restraint?

your poor choso has never been all that good at controlling his wants and whims. he's a man whose body often betrays him: he couldn't hold an orgasm back to save his life, nor can he ever stifle those pretty moans of his. much like how he couldn't stop his hand from smacking against the flesh of your ass.

so, of course, you goad him on. clenching tight around his achy cock as you meet his gaze in the mirror. "i want you to spank me again, choso. be mean. make it hurt when i sit down tomorrow."

"i don't want to hurt you."

"don't you? you spanked me first, cho. i think you want it even more than i do."

his eyebrows furrow. its devastatingly cute for a man balls-deep inside of you. "shut up," he says with no real bite. "i didn't mean to."

"your hand just slipped and landed on my ass?"

"...yes."

you roll your eyes, and offer choso a smile in the mirrors reflection. “you look all embarrassed. just like that time you came just from kissing m—fuck!”

a sharp sting radiates over your ass cheek, and once you blink the shock out of your eyes, you’re met with a very sudden snapping of chosos hips into yours. he somehow manages to fuck you even deeper than before. with every thrust he sends you forward on the bed, until you’re no longer holding yourself up with your arms and your face is pressed right into the mattress.

“you always-” smack! “-make me feel-” smack! “-so nervous around you.”

your face screws up. “what?”

he stills, leans forward to take the sheet away from your face so you can look back at him properly. “i’m punishing you.”

“for what, giving you butterflies?”

“yes.” the sweetest of smiles pulls at his lips—you’d think it endearing if not for the way his hand slaps down onto your ass again, and he resumes his mean pace.

live and let cum, you suppose. choso drills into you in such a way that you’re cumming both quicker and harder than you ever have with him. your orgasm, the sweet way your pussy grips him in pleasured need, sends choso over the edge right after you. “mmm iloveyouiloveyouimsorryforspankingyouiloveyou”

of course with another mean spank to your ass, choso pulls out and exhales the prettiest moan you’ve heard from him as he releases all over your tender ass. you’re spent, and fucked so dumb you don’t chide him for then using his fingers to rub his cum around in soothing circles over your ass. you won’t admit it, but it feels kinda nice.

“sorry,” choso whispers as he reaches for something to wash you down with. “you should slap me as payback.”

“you’d probably like it.”

“…yeah.”

[gallusrostromegalus]

This morning I came downstairs to discover that the dogs have invented a New Crime.

My husband get up very early for his Real Adult Job, and feeds Charleston (Black-and-cream Sighthound mix, mostly leg) and Herschel (40lb cardigan welsh crime tube), then lets them out into the fenced yard before he leaves.

I get up at the same time but take longer to boot up, so the dogs frolick about and discourage the local tree rats from lingering about the property while I get dressed/brush my teeth/try to not be psychologically crushed by The Horrors (TM)

Now it's pretty normal for me to find Herschel doing a high-speed yet startlingly efficient MC Hammer Shuffle on his stubby little legs around the base of the large honey Locust tree we have in the middle of the yard so he could keep his face pointed directly up the trunk at something in the canopy, because this his how he tries to herd squirrels.

...but Charlie is usually nearby, cheerfully play-bowing and encouraging the squirrel to come down, nothing bad will happen-!

This time Charleston is nowhere in sight.

I go outside to investigate and Herschel pauses to tackle me about the kneecaps as a greeting before returning to the tree.

Charleston is not behind the garden bins, nor in the side yard.

I am growing concerned, when I hear a telltale guilty scrape of claws above me.

Charleston is on the roof.

I shuffle out to the middle of the yard, until I can make eye contact with him.

He looks down at me, cheerfully wagging his tail, clearly anticipating praise for being such a clever boy.

I at least know how he got up there.

My house has a deck built off the second floor with a set of stairs leading up to it, and a large honey locust tree grows next to it. Part of the roof is easily accessible with a small hop from the deck.

The deck has only a minimal amount of railing ad the roof has none, so I blocked off the stairs with a board that was too high for Herschel, an inveterate explorer and criminal, to jump, but not Charlie.

I didn't worry about this at the time because Charleston is, in fact, The Best Dog In The Universe, and understands that even though he *could* easily jump various barriers, it would be *impolite* of him to do so.

Charleston is Extremely Polite and thus almost never commits any crimes.

...Almost Never.

Charlie has exactly two vices, which aren't even vices because his ancestors were bred for millennia to do these two exact things.

The first is that he is HIGHLY leash aggressive when I'm present (We were both attacked by a St. Bernard the first day I had him and Charlie has decided Strange Dogs Are Not Allowed To Approach Me)

The Second is that he has the Prey Drive From Hell.

He has chased bears and bulls with full murderous intent.

He almost got me arrested because he cut his leash to chase a pronghorn antelope in front of a park ranger.

It is only for the sake of my saftey and pursuit of prey that he will break the rules.

Today, he has his nemesis cornered

Charleston isn't clever the way Herschel is. He's never really explored using his toys as tools, whereas Herschel speedran the early stages of hominid tool use as a puppy. Arwen was a logistical sort of genius who managed to terraform my parent's yard into Rabbit Thunderdome.

Charleston's genius is... psychological.

If the Squirrels see both dogs, they run for the fence, but if they only see Herschel, they run for the tree.

Charlie is much better at tracking and guessing the route his prey might go, so Charlie runs for their preferred escape route of the tree instead of chasing them.

The squirrels compensate by running for the fence, which is farther away in general, but they have a head start on the dogs.

At Some Point, charlie managed to work out that if he stays in the shadows under the deck, the squirrels won't see his mostly-black body, especially when Herschel charges into the sunlight and catches it on his white ruff.

Charleston realized, long before I did, that there is only the ONE branch that overhangs the roof, and therefore if a squirrel runs up the tree, it only has ONE way out of the yard.

The real genius was combining all of the above into the realization that he could let Herschel charge the squirrels, run through the under-deck shadows and up to the deck and roof while the squirrels are distracted, and plant himself on the roof where the squirrels HAVE to land without them seeing him until it was too late.

-And so we stand this morning.

Herschel at the foot of the tree, preventing the squirrel from running back down and heading for the fence

Charleston square in the landing zone on the roof, at the ready

The squirrel paralyzed on the branch between them

...and me, only sort of awake and realizing that I'm probably the dumbest mammal here.

I need to figure out how to disentangle these beasts without anyone getting maimed. Charleston has the blood of his ancestors baying for the flesh of his nemesis in his ears. Herschel is dangerously close to figuring out how to get on the roof himself. The squirrel is contemplating some truly dire Maneuvers, including dropping out of the tree and assaulting me to buy time.

I haven't even had my coffee yet.

"Charleston." I say with a very aggravated sigh. "That's not where dogs go."

Charleston whimpers.

He has Disappointed (TM) me.

A fate worse than death.

He starts to walk back to the deck, but as he takes a step to leave, so does the squirrel, and he is pulled back by millennia of instinct.

This will require. Delicacy.

or delicacies.

"Stay. I'll be right back." I tell the dogs.

I go back into the house, and retrieve The Best Treat.

The Cat's Wet Food.

Both dogs crave this Most Forbidden snack with an irrational passion, and it is usually both out of reach in the cat tree AND defended by Mochi, who rules the dogs with an Iron Paw.

I return to the yard, and open the can in full view of both dogs.

"Charlie?" I call. "Do you want Wet Food?"

He is halfway down the stairs before I can finish the question.

Herschel switches his orbit from the tree to my person, and I have to shuffle to avoid tripping over them as we go back inside and the squirrel flees.

None of this is the new crime.

I go out with them later to pull Yet More Thistles, and a few minutes in, I hear a little 'huff' from Charlie.

I look up, and he's standing on the stairs, paw up to indicate he's going to jump over the barrier board and go right back up there.

You know.

...Unless there is wet food to be had.

The children have figured out how to commit extortion. I text my husband.

They're so smart! Do you think we can set them on the jackasses across the street? My husband asks, ever the practical man.

I'm going back to bed.

---

I'm a disabled writier who makes my living tellng stories. if you liked this, please consider giving me a Ko-fi tip, or pre-ordering the Family Lore book of stories on my Patreon. Thank you!