#I'm on my bullshit folks

[hackedhearts]

[gale-force-storm]

New Perspective

Rating: E Pairing: Gale x female!Tav Additional tags: pwp, face-sitting, breathplay (not intentional, Gale just gets a bit carried away) Word Count: 1.3k

Read it on AO3

"I hoped you might indulge me in something.” “Of course, my love. What is it?” she asked, excitement clear in her eyes. “I was hoping to taste you.” Tav's brows furrowed and she opened her mouth, doubtless to say that this request was nothing new. “I was hoping,” he interjected before she got the chance, “to do so from a... different angle than usual.”

Literally just 1300 words of face-sitting

It was lovely, these slow, heated moments together. Laying side by side, kissing, hands trailing where they pleased, clothing long discarded. Gale grasped Tav's waist firmly and rolled, pulling her on top of him. She happily followed the movement, settling in above him and grinding appreciatively onto the hardness now pressed against her core. The movement didn't last long though, as Gale gripped her hips to hold her in place.

“Wait,” he breathed against her lips. “I...” He hesitated, eyes glancing quickly to and away from her.

“Yes?” she prompted after a moment.

“I was- that is to say, I hoped you might indulge me in something.”

Tav's eyes lit up. She'd been trying to get him to ask for more in bed for ages, claiming he was too generous (as if such a thing were possible). He wasn't entirely sure what he was afraid of, if he was being honest. He knew by now that she wouldn't be upset over a simple request. Especially not when she'd been directly asking him to make more of them. But old habits died hard, and old anxieties and insecurities lingered. Still, a thought had been forming in the back of his mind, spurred on by faded yet compelling memories of youthful dalliances. Compelling enough for him to brave asking for it.

“Of course, my love. What is it?” she asked, excitement clear in her eyes.

“I was hoping to taste you.” Tav's brows furrowed and she opened her mouth, doubtless to say that this request was nothing new. “I was hoping,” he interjected before she got the chance, “to do so from a... different angle than usual.” He pulled on her hips, trying to move her up his body. He saw her eyes widen as she took his meaning.

“Are you sure? I don't want to hurt you.”

“Absolutely positive,” he replied, this time without any hesitation. “I...” he paused again, glancing away. “I haven't had the opportunity in quite some time, but I have done it before and I remember finding it quite enjoyable. Though of course if you would rather not-” He was cut off by a kiss, warm and affectionate.

“If you're sure,” Tav murmured against his lips, “and you truly would enjoy it, then I would be happy to oblige.”

Gale's breath caught and his fingers dug more firmly into her hips. He looked up at her and could almost feel the hunger in his own expression. He licked his lips and pulled at her again, and this time she followed. In moments she held herself above his face, bracing against the headboard as his hands trailed from her hips down to grip and knead at her thighs. He leaned up and kissed the inside of one, then nipped at it, startling a pleased little sound from her.

“Perfect,” he murmured. He pulled down on her thighs and she slowly lowered herself until she was barely an inch from him, his breath fanning over her already wet folds and making her shiver. He would never get used to how eager she was for him. How easily he could coax her into arousal. It was a gift and a wonder every time.

He wasted no time, briefly nuzzling against her folds before licking a broad stripe from her entrance up to her clit. Tav gripped the headboard tighter, her legs shaking slightly.

Gale was in paradise. Tav's thighs, so strong yet soft, surrounded his head. Looking up he could only see her cunt, already glistening for him, and the long lines of her torso leading up to her breasts. Her warmth and scent surrounded him, his whole world reduced down to only her. He moaned as he licked her again, savoring the sweet, salty, musky taste of her. He moved his hands, one drifting down so he could spread her open with his thumb, the other sliding back to grip her delightful backside and urge her further onto him. He licked down from her clit, sliding his tongue into her once he reached her entrance, and she moaned, her hips twitching towards his mouth. Gale hummed his approval and thrust into her with his tongue, hoping she would do it again. He licked deep, letting his nose nudge against her clit, and was rewarded with a whine and another twitch. After a minute or two he changed tactics, the hand holding her open moving down so he could slide one, then two fingers into her while he eagerly lapped and sucked at her clit. This got the reaction he was looking for: her hips grinding down as she rode his tongue. Her moans were almost drowned out by his own, muffled though his were.

He pulled away just enough to pant “That's it, love. Just like that,” before diving back in, burying his face in her warm, slick center. He relished every sound she made. Every grind against his enthusiastic tongue. Every clench of her core when he did something she particularly liked. She was everywhere, overwhelming, and he never wanted to be anywhere else. He felt almost dazed as he licked at her, chasing her pleasure. Nothing else mattered. He didn't need petty things like air, he only needed more of her taste, her scent, the soft slickness of her against his face, and her beautiful moans showering down from above him. Moans that might have been breathtaking if he hadn't already been a bit short of breath as it was. He didn't mind a bit. His own gasping breaths and the slight lightheadedness only served to enhance his pleased near-delirium. Stars burst behind his eyelids, and he genuinely didn't know if they were from pleasure, lack of air, or both. He thought he may be able to get off on this alone, and was more than eager to test that theory.

As it stood, though, he could tell that Tav was reaching her limit. Her moans had morphed into whimpers, and the rolling grinds of her hips had turned into desperate, arhythmic thrusts. He slid his fingers into her as far as he was able and drew her clit between his lips, flicking the very tip of his tongue against it as he sucked. She arched above him, her thighs clamping around his head and shaking as she crested her peak, moaning his name in a way that nearly had him tumbling over that edge with her, still untouched. He coaxed her through it with gentler movements of his lips and tongue, savoring her pleasure. He couldn't help his whine as she rolled off of him, though given the slight burn in his lungs as he gulped in a breath, he had to admit it was probably for the best. Besides, he couldn't complain about the way she moved to lie next to him, grabbed his face, and kissed him fiercely, licking and kissing her own wetness from where it had essentially coated his face from nose to chin.

“Are you alright?” she asked. “You got a bit quiet there towards the end.”

“Much more than alright, my dove,” he panted, grinning. “That was...” he trailed off, trying to think of how to adequately describe what he was feeling.

“Everything you hoped for?” she proposed after a moment.

“And more,” he confirmed. “You are magnificent. Wondrous. Perfection itself.”

Tav shook her head slightly, but she knew better than to argue with him when he got this effusive.

“So, I take it you want to do this again sometime?”

“Gods yes. I-I mean, if you are amenable, of course,” he added, catching up to his own overeager tone. Tav simply smiled, leaning in for another kiss.

“I would be very amenable,” she replied. “Though for now...” she reached down and slid a couple fingers lightly up his shaft, making him shudder. “How would you like to finish? My mouth? My hand? My breasts? My cunt?”

Gale groaned, rolling his hips into her touch. “However you want me. You've indulged me once already this evening, it's your turn to choose.”

Normally Tav might have argued, but instead she simply hummed thoughtfully. “That's true. I suppose I can give you this one. And in that case,” she said, kissing her way down his body, “I'd like to take my turn tasting you.”

[yardsards]

concept: grizzled badass action hero with a missing body body part

for a long time it's never explained how they lost that body part. maybe everyone's too intimidated to ask them. or maybe people do ask and they tell different, increasingly outlandish story every time. sword fight. rescuing a baby from a burning building. tortured for information. caught in a bear trap and had to gnaw it off.

eventually it's revealed that nah, there was no accident, it's congenital

[tes-trash-blog]

Baseless Headcanon: The Falmer were not ones for grand displays. Even during the height of Falmeri power and influence, one would be hard pressed to find an artisan who accredited themself to a grand mural or an architectural wonder. Priests and healers never claimed sole responsibility for someone's full restoration, nor would any warrior claim to be the leading force in a battle. Certain outstanding folk were recognized, naturally, but it was never a title sought after.

As it was seen by the Falmer, you give what you can when you can, not for glory but because it is needed.

[noswordinourlake]

Turning this one over in my head but one thing that's really been getting under my skin recently is the trend towards turning hobbies into habits

[dont-offend-the-bees]

Fuck I hate being an adult. I need a more adult adult to help with the volatile emotional situation.

[skrunksthatwunk]

you go to a lesbian blog and find it says women only!! no men allowed!!! and go oh! excuse me, um, what about other lesbians? plenty of lesbians are genderqueer... and they go well, okay, go fuck yourself tim chop off your sweaty dick and stop calling yourself a lesbian. you do not have a dick, actually. you think about that fact often, even though it does you no good. you do not tell this person that.

you go to another lesbian blog and it says women only and you try again, and this time they change it to wlw + nblw only (non-men who love non-men :D). and you'll say hey i appreciate that but gender's not really that cut and dry for a lot of people. someone could be both a man and nonbinary, for instance. i just worry that you're looking at nonbinary as a generic third gender, or an extension of womanhood. i mean yeah you include nblw in your tags but all your posts are about pussy-havers exclusively. what's with that? and they say go fuck yourself you pervy man pretending to be a lesbian. you tried to sneak in but i won't let you.

so you go to a lesbian blog with a dozen or so posts about queer people needing to be more weird about it and you sigh in relief. but you still see the men dni. that's odd. hoping for the best, you say hey! i know you mean well but please maybe don't put men dni at the end of the lovely posts on your lesbian blog bc some lesbians are men. and they'll be like ok!! well you're allowed ;) and you say no that's not. no. some men are lesbians not just me. you think about your own dicklessness and wonder if that's why you were given entry. and you add that even if male lesbians are allowed, there's no indication of that. how would anyone know without asking? and they're like ohh gotcha gotcha well men dni + this is for sapphics only!! and you'll be like ok well that treats the concepts of men and sapphics as mutually exclusive identities and i just told you that's not true and you agreed with me so.. i don't think that solves our problem. and they're like. ok. fine. men dni but genderfluid and multigender people are allowed! and you're like no see that's. that's still the same thing.. you're saying the same thing just with different words. if you don't want men to interact but you're fine with multigender/genderfluid/etc ppl interacting then you either don't see them as Real Men (because they don't reach a standard of Full Manhood) or Complete Men (because they're only Part-Time Men), both of which suggest that they are, in some way, not men or less-than men, which is invalidating and defeats the point of the exception in the first place (accommodation) OR that you don't really mean the dni which is confusing and inconsistent and makes guydykes feel weird and uncomfortable and excluded from the lesbian space you're trying to cultivate. and they're like um. ok. so. cishet men dni? and you're like well i think that makes more sense, but what if someone identifies as both a cishet man and a sapphic? again, if we're trying to accommodate the genderfucky populace then that has to be a possibility that is considered. and they say god you people are never happy. what do you want me to do? what am i supposed to say to keep the right men out? and you pause. you empathize with the need for a space free from dudes trying to fuck you straight and feminine. dudes who watch lesbian porn and joke about what they'd do if they were allowed into girls locker rooms. who look at you like a piece of meat, and like someone who looks at women like pieces of meat in the same way he does. you get it. you know. you want a space where you can be sapphic, too. that's why you came to these blogs in the first place. you brace yourself and you say well i don't know that there are "right men" to keep out. i don't know that there's any single label that would accomplish whatever it is you're trying to accomplish. you could go for "sapphics only" or "queers only" and i think that might be the closest thing to what you want, but it's never going to be perfect. creating any exclusive space is going to shut out people you didn't account for, and the broader the label, the more people will be shut out that you didn't want to shut out. and what about people who don't know if they're allowed? what of questioning transbians, where are they supposed to go? and, frankly, i think i might rather my dykey posts get read and appreciated by a gay guy who sees me as a man than a woman who only sees me as a sacred womb, pure from male perversions or violence or whatever. i think community might just be more complex than a dni can handle. and they look at you and say i don't want to not have a dni. i think you're too permissive. you can't just "what about" or microlabel your way into everything. go fuck yourself, i bet you're not even a lesbian anyway. go find a real problem to get mad about.

you go to a lesbian blog. you ignore the men dni because you know you probably don't even count to them. or maybe you do count and, out of respect for your manhood, they'd shun you accordingly. you try to feel okay about that. you scroll past dozens of posts about mediocre men and gagging at straight friends' boyfriends and how gross and undeserving men are of the beautiful women they couple up with and how all women should be gay so they can get treated right and and and and and. you finally find a post about curling into someone you love and feeling at peace and try to lose yourself in it. you know that feeling is what unites you, what makes you belong. you try to focus on it. you think about carding your hands through a butch's hair or lacing fingers with a femme and feeling warm and loved and more yourself than you ever have before. like this is who you're meant to be. you read about lesboys and butch boytoys and genderfucky dykes and big hairy deep-voiced wonderful women (like you want to be someday, like you wish you could make yourself) and you try to ignore the men dni underneath each and every post. and you daydream about meeting someone kind and earnest at a lesbian bar even though you don't think any such bars exist within three states of you and you can't drink and don't want to drink because you need to be in control of yourself at all times so you don't fuck up like you're always about to and here in the nonexistent lesbian bar you feel wanted and safe and in good company. you picture your ideal, happiest self. it is a mistake. ideal-you has a goatee. not the mascara one you smear on and call drag even though you know it's not drag, not really, the beard you call drag because you think everyone would look at you sadly if you told them it was just to pretend you had something out of your reach. a beard that's soft and that you grew and that cannot be smudged away if you get too comfortable with it. the dream shatters. your people pull away from you, their scoffs mixing with the mind-numbing gay girl bedroom pop you learned to settle for just to have something that almost resembled you, they all pull away and turn their backs and do not look at you. you're too close to being a man now, even though you're the same amount of man as before. and they know you're not supposed to interact with men, not as you would with dykes, at least. and it sours. it's all your imagination, all in your head, but it sours.

you sigh. you think about how small you are. how short, how narrow, how feeble. how your voice pitches up when you talk to strangers because it's easier to speak quietly when it carries more, and because you're nervous. because it's a chore to talk, like everything is. you think about testosterone. you think about how your family would look at you, the questions they would ask, your answers they would only pretend to accept. the uncomfortable glances and whispered questions they'd try to hide from you. you think about how small you are, and how small you will always be. how you don't know of a way to fix it, but even if there was one, no one would want you anymore. you'd be the only one thinking it made you a cooler dyke. you think about how you don't even want a T-voice all the time, how you'll never be able to switch it at will, because you don't know how and can't bring yourself to figure it out. you think about how your throat closes around every hint of your own attraction. how wanting is perverse, how wanting is invasive, how wanting is embarrassing and too vulnerable so it must stay anonymous, as an online witness, and how you can barely manage to form or maintain friendships because your brain makes you pull away, always spinning out and struggling to recover from the simplest of interactions. how they'll all leave you and you won't chase after them at all and how that will hurt them. how stuck you get. how it looks like nothing's holding you back, how that frustrates everyone who thought you were going to be more than you were. the people you love who understand except when it comes to being ghosted, being shut out. how you don't want to hurt them. how you can't tell them that because you're stuck. how you turn to stone when touched, how you never reach out, how you lose your speech and can't look at people, how your autism is fun and sexy until it becomes real and you never see them anymore, how much you longed for someone who knew everything without you having to explain, and who loved you anyway. how unreasonable you know that is to expect of anyone. you think about that not-even-real lesbian bar. you think about how you still can't drive. how you can't leave your home on your own, without dragging somebody into helping you. how you can't leave your body. how you can't leave your manhood behind.

you think about finding another lesbian blog and ignoring everything. about skimming it for the parts you can juice some meaning from. the parts men ignore and don't understand, and how typical of you it is to do so. or the parts where you're not welcome and you should accept that, because it's for lesbians only. how you are a lesbian anyway. how you're meant to choose lesbian or man, how each is a betrayal of some kind to yourself or your people, your family, your lovely strangers, your rare friendly acquaintances. about the parts that tell you you're not wanted, that you're ugly and lazy and gross and insert yourself everywhere without even asking. about the parts that tell you you are hated, and how lesbians are above it all by rejecting men. how lesbians are each blessed miracles. about the parts that say you should be ashamed of being whatever twisted confused freak you are, of everything, of looking and wanting or not looking or not wanting, of picking and choosing instead of taking it all in with a smile. after all, shouldn't you take it? or is your ego too fragile, as men's so often are? aren't you tired? good. we're not here for your consumption. and we sure as hell don't want your company or "community" or whatever. didn't you read the sign? no boys allowed. and if you want to come in you have to make up your mind. as if you haven't told them the only answer you have. you're both. you're both.

you know you broke the rule by interacting.

but it gets lonely sometimes. you wonder if they know.

[downtherabbitholewithlucy]

🥚egg head🥚

[mehoymalloy]

Challenging a Queen

[merge-conflict]

Chapters: 4/6 Fandom: Cyberpunk 2077 (Video Game) Rating: Explicit Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Goro Takemura/V Characters: Goro Takemura, V (Cyberpunk 2077), Johnny Silverhand, Alt Cunningham, Kerry Eurodyne, Rogue Amendiares Additional Tags: X/M, Non-Binary V (Cyberpunk 2077), Corpo V (Cyberpunk 2077), Hate Sex, Choking, Unsafe Choking, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Minor Violence, Recreational Drug Use, slightly stoned sex, Oral Sex, Light Dom/sub, Voyeurism, Masturbation, Hand Jobs, Overstimulation, Hurt/Comfort, Multiple Endings, transhumanism meets transgender, mild body horror, Identity Issues, Codependency, Transphobia, Angst and Hurt/Comfort Summary:

After V has fled from Arasaka with Johnny and Alt, she meets with Goro, who has come to bring her back. Their argument turns into passion, but there is more at stake than just their broken hearts.

*Now with multiple endings* where Goro does and does not succeed.

[sirenium]

I hate being loveless. Send post.

[imperatorrrrr]

I read one of your tags saying they want to take away Nico’s C?!? Wtf please elaborate 😱😱

sorry, sorry, don't mean to cause alarm, its shitass Devils fans over on Devilstwt stirring stupid fucking drama.

so this iteration of the anti-Nico as Captain stupidity started with this:

This was under a post Amanda Stein made of Chief Keefe changing his twtprofile to be all Devils themed. Amanda, a fellow Nico appreciator and person with a brain, shut this shut down easily as seen above.

thought this was the end of it until today...

This poll popped up and thankfully most people, again, have a solid head on their shoulders, but there is a loud minority who is being very irritating.

anyyyyyway, TL:DR: no one with any actual power, sway, authority, or within their right minds is taking away Nico's captaincy. I'm just annoyed by all the fuck asses that say this shit and then the usually normal folks on devilstwt that decide to give these bullshit takes any engagement.

let the weirdos who hate Nico be weirdos in their corner. there's no need to spotlight them, she says as she makes several Tumblr posts about them, lmfao.

its me. I am the problem.

[giantkillerjack]

Ya know. I spent most of my life with horrible painful soul-crushing social anxiety.

And after about 25 years of continuous hard work, suddenly, people started pointing out - to my utter bafflement - that I had, in fact, achieved my lifelong dream of being charismatic. I'm 29 now; I feel comfortable in most social situations, and it is a very rare person whom I cannot make laugh.

I am, undoubtedly, finally, charismatic.

But do you know what I found?

I found that now that I have an understanding of which social rules serve which functions -- Now that I have an understanding of just how much damage my awkwardness was doing to people, well,

I found that, actually, my awkwardness never really hurt anyone at all. People were just judgmental dicks to me about it.

Now that I have the skill-level to (most of the time) creatively vocalize what is in my head as soon as I think it and without fear, I can confirm once and for all what I had always suspected:

I was worth talking to when I was quiet.

I was worth talking to when I was awkward, and when the words in my head took time and patience to hear, and when most of my jokes didn't land. I was worth talking to the whole time.

So I just... I hope that if you've ever wondered whether you are worth communicating with, the answer is yes. Absolutely yes. Each of us has a soul worth sharing - and if you and I were talking, I would happily wait for you to speak (or communicate in other ways) without condescending, and I would never shame you for that harmless awkwardness that so many people feel the need to violently stomp out.

You are worth talking to. You just are. And you deserve people who will speak to you with kindness, with patience, and with the basic immutable respect owed to all people.

(I talk about this with some frequency, both on tumblr and in real life. At some point, maybe I'll gather all my thoughts on the matter into one post. At some point, I wrote about my personal experience trying to build my social skill. But I felt the need to say at least a little bit tonight after seeing this other lovely post, and I'm glad I did. It will happen again.)

[kaiju-booty]

[cienie-isengardu]

I’m currently catching up with the newest MK1 stuff and so far my two strongest impressions are:

- the game is not out yet and Bi-Han is already so done with everyone

- Bi-Han still has no respect for gods

...and sudenly 2023 got x10000 times better

[downtherabbitholewithlucy]

Fred, is this perhaps an invitation for a joint shower? Hmm?😏