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ART IS GOING TO REFLECT PARTS OF LIFE BACK TO THE AUDIENCE.

I struggle to grasp how these purity pearl clutchers can complain about ANYTHING in a fictional book. DON'T LIKE STORIES OF CSA AND INCEST.... STOP THAT FROM HAPPENING IN REAL LIFE. Like the problem isn't that it's in literature. The issue is that they're uncomfortable and heaven forbid their privilege gets even get glanced at.

Stop trying to sanitize art and human expression.

when internet people are like “i love gothic literature but i hate anything that discusses incest, sexual violence, oppression, misogyny, abuse, torture, gore, murder, or death”

#witing #art #on art #on writing #gothic horror

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when i say i like hiking, i don’t mean “eight mile backpacking trip with special gear and an emergency beacon” sort of hiking, i mean a three mile loop to go look at pretty things and then a huge brunch after.

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im cooking

#bg3 #gale of waterdeep #astarion #karlach #shadowheart #lae'zel #wyll #halsin #i must be overtired or something because i laughed so hard over this

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Could you please write a loki x reader. Reader gains weight on accident at first but loki likes it so he gets reader to gain more. Fem reader.

If not it’s okay <3

I love writing about men discovering they like reader chubby <3 This is my first time writing third person limited focused on the male lead, so any feedback would be cherished

Contents: 1.1kwords, love mentions, weight gain and associated body changes/insecurities, giggly sex

Minors DNI

You are responsible for your own media consumption

Loki’s never been… particular, shall we say? 

Sex was nothing to him. A means to an end, no care for any specific physical form for his partner to have, let alone prefer it. Love on the other hand was something he’d never dreamed of having for himself - some abstract concept that didn’t exist, at least not for him. He never thought for a second that love was something he would hold in his arms every dawn and dusk, or that he could taste it in homemade cooking and smell it in the bathroom after you’d showered. 

In that aspect, you’d managed to exceed all the expectations he’d never had.

“Fuck!”

Loki never knew how terrible love could be. How his heart could drop out of his body just from a vulgar word in the other room, or how he could be so worried he could completely forget about using magic to get to you faster. Not until he was running through your apartment (which he was slowly and methodically laying his own claim to, until he was so ingrained in your life you couldn’t get rid of him. Naturally.) Why would anyone subject themselves to something that could hurt so much?

And then he laid eyes on your half-nude form and remembered.

Because you were standing in the middle of your bedroom in your undergarments (“please just call them panties,” you’d always beg) and he had the absolute privilege to stare at you as perversely as he desired. If another man thought of you the way he did, he’d have to reconsider world domination. Put the fear of the gods back into those mortals. 

But when you spun around to face him, you had a sour look puckering your lovely features. “You,” you accused, jabbing a finger at him, “are at fault here!”

“Probably,” he conceded instantly. “What have I done?”

You threw some of your clothes at him. He recognized them. You called them the good jeans. He called them infernal invention that keeps me from your sweet pussy. “They don’t fit anymore!”

He tried not to show his pleasure too much. “Oh?” He immediately knew he’d failed, your glare furthering. 

“Oh,” you mocked, a thick British accent on the word. “This is your fault, y’know? Before you, I ate pretty healthy. Now I’m going out every other night to restaurants that smother everything in butter and wine-”

“You’re upset about going out?”

Loki could practically watch memories of the delicious food you’ve been sharing dance through your vision, inducing a small dreamy sigh. “No,” you decided, “no, I’m not. No, I just-” You huffed, falling against his chest and trusting him to both hold you upright and comfort you - which he did happily. “I’m just frustrated because now I have to actually put effort into working out or find new jeans.”

And, well, Loki was adamantly against more jeans, so he may have gently swayed you to the other option. After all, he wanted you happy, and he didn’t care what your form looked like to make that happen.

Until he got you undressed in a different circumstance. 

Until he was bullying his way into your sweet cunt with your soft form pressed against him. Your breasts bouncing against the hard plane of his chest, thick thighs hooked over his slim hips, heels pressed into the small of his back. You felt like velvet all over - from the soft skin pulled taut over wide hips in his hands to the wet heat wrapped around his cock. He hasn’t been so close to blowing his load so soon since his first time between your thighs. 

“Look so beautiful, my love,” spilled from his lips like a waterfall. He simply couldn’t hold it back, and besides that, he wouldn’t want to. His Queen deserved to know just how stunning she was, every minute of the day. Especially when it made you moan into his ear, hand snapping over your mouth like you could take it back, turning away from him even as your hips met his with every thrust. 

His Queen was so shy. 

Loki took the soft tendon on your neck between his teeth, gently working a mark onto the skin, groaning against you as your walls fluttered around him at the sensation. “Don’t hide from me, love,” he coaxed. Long fingers wrapped around your neck from behind, rubbing gentle circles into your hairline, completely contrary and yet perfectly befitting the way he hammered into you. His other hand traveled your body like he was discovering you all over again, caressing every new dip and pudge of skin like you were the most amazing sculpture. People across the world would marvel at your beauty, whisper that man wasn’t capable of creating such magnificence - that you were instead made by a god. 

“Stop,” you slurred through the pleasure, his rolling hips working your sensitive clit against his dark hair. Your hand on his back clawed the pale skin, leaving your mark on him as it curled into a fist, beating the breadth of his shoulders with no force. You giggled through the moans as his fingers danced over your sides, hissing, “that tickles,” at him as if that would ever implore him to quit. “Stop fondling my rolls!”

“What a cruel world,” he lamented theatrically, the only way he knew how, “when a man can’t even fondle his dearest love!” 

“Be serious when you’re in my guts!”

“I am serious, darling!” A sharp tug pulled you higher up on his lap, cock spearing even deeper into you, pushing out a whine from deep in your chest. “Don’t you feel how well we fit? You’re perfect, my love, and your body’s no exception.”

He let you hide away in his neck, nipping your own small marks onto him as his thrusts turned slower, more sensual. “Even when I’ve gained-”

“Don’t you Midgardians have a saying about that? ‘In sickness and in health?’” 

Your lips stretched against him, betraying the way you tried to sound less eager as your hips rolled against his. “Those are wedding vows, Loki.”

He guided you to his lips, devouring you with a smile. “I’m practicing for the future, then.” 

He delighted in the way you giggled as you came on his cock, holding him close as he fucked you through it. He craved the way you no longer shied away when he groped your waist, pulling you harder against him as he used the way your cunt sucked him in to chase his own end.

He had a standing reservation made before your legs stopped shaking.

#starsstarship #starsoriginals #loki laufeyson #loki x reader #loki x you #loki x y/n #loki imagine #x reader #x reader smut #fem reader #female reader #afab reader #smut #loki x chubby reader #loki x plus size reader #x chubby reader #x plus size reader #loki laufesyon x reader #loki layfeyson imagine #i see reader with this delicious chocolate skin and blonde tight natural curls #oh she really is the softest most beautiful woman #im in love with her too

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One aspect of Halsin's epilogue dialogue with a solomanced player that sticks out to me is Halsin saying that he fears coming will turn out to be a mistake, before explaining that he took the player from a life of high adventure to one that can be described as anything but. And then after being reassured, he says that he still expects to stir from the dream, or that part of him fears something MUST go wrong, depending on the option the player chooses.

Meaning... he had thought about this before and had wondered if it as a good idea, and had concluded that it possibly wouldn't. That going would quite possibly- maybe even probably- make the player realize they weren't happy with him anymore, leave him, and return to their life of high adventure. That he'd "stir from the dream" and be alone once more, because surely no one would actually continue to choose him? Surely he's too happy, surely something in his life must go wrong eventually?

He literally fears that going to the party could result in the player leaving him, and he still does it anyway not only because he loved and missed their traveling companions that much, but because he knows if that is what the player chooses, he'll have to respect it, even if it will utterly gut him in the process.

"You could have done anything. Gone with anyone. Yet you chose me."

And in that is an unspoken question- why? Did you really mean it?

And then... the player reassures him. They promise him they're happy. That they never looked back, that they chose him for a reason.

And maybe he's still afraid of stirring from the dream, but he at least knows it's going to last a bit longer.

#halsin #halsin silverbough #bg3 #baldur's gate 3 #Husbandos #so... apparently i romance Halsin and Astarion because they both have deep aspects that relate to me #and my tav romancing them is healing my own broken self #oof.

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Ok I don't understand programming. But damn I love space shit.

Y'all, the world is sleeping on what NASA just pulled off with Voyager 1

The probe has been sending gibberish science data back to Earth, and scientists feared it was just the probe finally dying. You know, after working for 50 GODDAMN YEARS and LEAVING THE GODDAMN SOLAR SYSTEM and STILL CHURNING OUT GODDAMN DATA.

So they analyzed the gibberish and realized that in it was a total readout of EVERYTHING ON THE PROBE. Data, the programming, hardware specs and status, everything. They realized that one of the chips was malfunctioning.

So what do you do when your probe is 22 Billion km away and needs a fix? Why, you just REPROGRAM THAT ENTIRE GODDAMN THING. Told it to avoid the bad chip, store the data elsewhere.

Sent the new code on April 18th. Got a response on April 20th - yeah, it's so far away that it took that long just to transmit.

And the probe is working again.

From a programmer's perspective, that may be the most fucking impressive thing I have ever heard.

#for science!

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i'm sorry but this is the only submission to this trend that i'll consider giving any thought to

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I loved making this mothman because like from the front he's just a cute lil mothman

But then you spin him and find a surprise booty

#mothman #cryptid

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Compilation of Lois Lane being terrible at spelling.

Bonus:

#i know so little about superman comics #but I love this characterization #lois lane and i share shit spelling in common.

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You have been lied-- THIS is Snow White

As usual, prints are avaible here <3

#Baldur's Gate #Baldur's Gate 3 #BG3 #Halsin #Archdruid Halsin #art #fanart #digital art #digital painting #Husbandos

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Ill never get enough of my husbandos.

You are safe. The winds of fate blow you to the warmest of hearths in the most cordial of inns. The touch of the sun comforts your flesh, but never burns it.

#astarion brainrot #astarion #astarion my beloved #halsin #Husbandos #bg3 fanart

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I've seen a lot of fanart of Astarion dressed like this. This is from the BAFTA Games Awards 2024 event where Neil Newbon, his interpreter, wore this costume. 🖤

#digital painting #digital art #bg3 #baldur's gate 3 #astarion #neil newbon #bafta games awards #astarion brainrot #astarion my beloved #astarion fanart

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Jumping on the bandwagon a little late but I had to find the time to draw Astation in Neil Newbon’s delicious outfit at the BAFTA’s ❤️

(Plus some extra doodles)

#bg3 #astarion #bg3 astarion #astarion fanart #astarion my beloved #astarion brainrot

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Sketches 🕊️ °˖➴

#art #plus size

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#baldurs gate 3 #bg3 #astarion #bg3 astarion #bg3 screenshots #astarion imagine #astarion ancunin #baldur's gate 3 #astarion ascended #astarion my beloved #astarion brainrot

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i rest my case

#bg3 #astarion #astarion brainrot #astarion my beloved

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If this doesn't sum up what it feels like at 40 with boomer parents, I'm not sure what does.

the older I get, the more the technological changes I've lived through as a millennial feel bizarre to me. we had computers in my primary school classroom; I first learned to type on a typewriter. I had a cellphone as a teenager, but still needed a physical train timetable. my parents listened to LP records when I was growing up; meanwhile, my childhood cassette tape collection became a CD collection, until I started downloading mp3s on kazaa over our 56k modem internet connection to play in winamp on my desktop computer, and now my laptop doesn't even have a disc tray. I used to save my word documents on floppy discs. I grew up using the rotary phone at my grandparents' house and our wall-connected landline; my mother's first cellphone was so big, we called it The Brick. I once took my desktop computer - monitor, tower and all - on the train to attend a LAN party at a friend's house where we had to connect to the internet with physical cables to play together, and where one friend's massive CRT monitor wouldn't fit on any available table. as kids, we used to make concertina caterpillars in class with the punctured and perforated paper strips that were left over whenever anything was printed on the room's dot matrix printer, which was outdated by the time I was in high school. VHS tapes became DVDs, and you could still rent both at the local video store when I was first married, but those shops all died out within the next six years. my facebook account predates the iphone camera - I used to carry around a separate digital camera and manually upload photos to the computer in order to post them; there are rolls of undeveloped film from my childhood still in envelopes from the chemist's in my childhood photo albums. I have a photo album from my wedding, but no physical albums of my child; by then, we were all posting online, and now that's a decade's worth of pictures I'd have to sort through manually in order to create one. there are video games I tell my son about but can't ever show him because the consoles they used to run on are all obsolete and the games were never remastered for the new ones that don't have the requisite backwards compatibility. I used to have a walkman for car trips as a kid; then I had a discman and a plastic hardshell case of CDs to carry around as a teenager; later, a friend gave my husband and I engraved matching ipods as a wedding present, and we used them both until they stopped working; now they're obsolete. today I texted my mother, who was born in 1950, a tiktok upload of an instructional video for girls from 1956 on how to look after their hair and nails and fold their clothes. my father was born four years after the invention of colour televison; he worked in radio and print journalism, and in the years before his health declined, even though he logically understood that newspapers existed online, he would clip out articles from the physical paper, put them in an envelope and mail them to me overseas if he wanted me to read them. and now I hold the world in a glass-faced rectangle, and I have access to everything and ownership of nothing, and everything I write online can potentially be wiped out at the drop of a hat by the ego of an idiot manchild billionaire. as a child, I wore a watch, but like most of my generation, I stopped when cellphones started telling us the time and they became redundant. now, my son wears a smartwatch so we can call him home from playing in the neighbourhood park, and there's a tanline on his wrist ike the one I haven't had since the age of fifteen. and I wonder: what will 2030 look like?