#new muses!!!

[windy-trickster]

A couple new muses will be coming to the blog pretty soon. Anatae Iammom - Purple Blood, Female Felmay Vrolez - Lime Blood, Female Heileo Seskot - Myrtle Blood, Demigender

[secondhandbagofholding]

I say this with the utmost sincerity, but I hope you have the courage and space and freedom in the upcoming year to be the nasty little freak that you are. I hope you can find a place to realize that the things you think make you unlovable and disgusting are in fact very lovable and not disgusting in any way. I hope you find sincerity beyond your ability to even comprehend.

[herdemimonde]

i expect a lot from me in 2024.

[tinystepsforward]

idk how many of you remember this but a few years ago tumblr ran a universally panned ad campaign for (us american) pride month that went "the gayest place on the internet".

well someone planning that campaign dropped in to ask the queer automatticians for advice on that and universally me and the other trans people involved were like "don't do it. i am so serious. don't do it. people on tumblr won't understand that it wasn't automattic who instituted the porn ban, or they will, but they'll recognize that automattic hasn't done anything, hands tied or not, to reverse it. nobody will like this. it will be a disaster." and they thanked us for our thoughts and went ahead with it anyway and then had to do retrospectives about how badly it went and were like "we just didn't know" and [gestures] yeah [edit: i think the person who rbed saying it was queerest place on the internet was right, my brain is fried, sorry! and that's... even worse lmao]

[yuzuuu4]

jackpot

[daisyfield98]

[apollos-boyfriend]

look ok ok i know adrian IS almost certainly elon musk. but can you imagine if somehow he wasn't.

see. that’s the thing. it’s infinitely more insane if it’s not elon. because everything he says is still batshit, but makes sense if it’s elon behind it. like of course elon musk would praise himself for being a good father and so good at sex and twitter x’s lord and savior. it’s pathetic, duh, but it makes sense as to why someone would say that if they’re saying it about themselves

if it’s just Some Dude doing it for the love of the fucking game? now THAT’S unbelievably insane behavior

[gallaghersgal]

౨ৎ closer, luke hughes x reader

tags & warnings; nsfw, 18+. cockwarming, no graphic sex but mentions of it, soft luke!!

author's note; lukey 🥹🥹🥹 not edited at all uhhh

wc; 547

your chest is still heaving as luke scoops you into his arms, right after he cleaned up the mess he left between your thighs. he lays you on his chest, warm skin pressed against yours while his arms wrap around your middle. a content hum passes through your lips and the feeling vibrates against luke’s chest, one hand rubbing across your back. he watches curiously as you snuggle further into him, lips landing to smush a kiss against your temple. he pokes your side playfully with one finger. luke can’t help it, it’s just so fun to tease you, to hear your sweet laugh and the way you say his name. 

“lukeee, quit it!” you whine, but it morphs into a giggle as his other hand moves to tickle your side. you shriek, playfully slapping his chest as you move back. “come on! i was so comfy.”

luke chuckles, pulling you against him once more. “close enough?” he asks, his voice a gentle hum. the truth is you could never be close enough to luke. the smooth planes of his chest against your cheek, his legs tangled with yours, arms tucked under his back while he rubs your own gently. 

“wish i could be closer,” you murmur with a shrug and a little sigh. your cheek is pressed sweetly against his body, soft hair tickling his neck.

luke thinks over something for a moment, you can tell by the way he’s silent, fingers softly tapping your side. after a bit he kisses your cheek, then your chin, then the corner of your lips. he mumbles against your mouth, “i know a way you could be closer.”

his hands lift your hips just slightly and you quirk an eyebrow. “don’t want another round,” you tell him. in response, luke kisses your worries away.

“i know honey,” he mumbles against your lips, and you feel a tentative hand between your bodies. “do you trust me?”

“of course,” you whisper. 

his hand moves between your bodies, gripping his length and giving it a few, slow pumps before he slides in. he ducks his head, forehead resting on your shoulder until he’s pressed fully inside. you whine, running your fingers through his hair until he finally looks up. your fingers toy with the little curls at the base of his neck, peppering his cheek with kisses. your hips rest flush against his own, the girth of him stretching you gently. the feeling draws a whiny sigh from you, tired body coming to rest against him again.

luke smiles, watching at the way you cuddle into his chest. he knows how much you love this, his skin on your own, still smelling faintly of his cologne. “feels so good,” you murmur, kissing his pec once for good measure. 

“mm, bet it does baby,” he mumbles. one warm palm rubs your bare back, sending a delightful little shiver down your spine. “you warm?”

you shrug again, just happy to be in his arms. but luke feels the way your skin is cool under his hand, and tugs the blanket over you both. “so comfy,” you mumble, breathing already evening out. 

luke can’t help but chuckle, you look so sweet in his arms. “sleep tight baby,” he murmurs with a kiss to your hair.

© gallaghersgal, 2025.

THX 4 READING → my first piece for this cutie, lmk what you think!!

[timethehobo]

251 doodles of Emmy to end the year with! He’s got so much love, I’m so happy for him. 💚

[bkdkink]

If jayce had looked, probably

Ref from Khalil Gibran’s The Prophet

[returntosunder]

Masterpiece

[kserocopy]

"The Muse returns" The book of Bill

Well I guess someone would like this. Anyway, happy New year!

[grumpygilly]

do not reupload / edit w/o credit // do not tag as kin/id

(in tears) hes like a pomeranian

[northstarscowboyhat]

Peepaw Starlo struggles. Autism 2 autism communication struggles.

[lucabyte]

Different standards

[mellowdisko]

thinking, thinking about this so hard im going to throw up:

Prospector Saloon, so quiet so dim; Courier Six seated at the bar, flipping through a magazine, Trudy cleaning wine glasses, both complaining about the weather. Courier Six with his hand-me-down boots, holding a Varmint rifle, an old gift from an old friend, hunting geckos and coyotes. Courier Six, watching windmills spin in the distance, sitting on his own grave, smoking over it like that checkered-coated man did years ago. In his fuzzy daydreams, in his restless nights sometimes he sees him: in dusty memories so distant, so ancient now.

Courier Six, touching the small scar on his forehead, smiling with a mouth full of yellowed teeth.

Courier Six, who has only heard of the Legion in campfire stories, Courier Six who changes stations when the news sing about that antebellum giant held in Legion hands. Old World far away, unknown and redundant; Hoover Dam painted in crimson, so what?

Courier Six who does not know, who does not care about the bones of the Republic displayed on crosses, the martyrs buried in the sand, all that was lost, all that could have been- Courier Six who does not know because Trudy's beer is cold enough, the water is clean enough, home comfortable enough. Doc Mitchell holds ice over his bruises after a long day and his bed is warm in the afternoon. He watches from his window, his fate asleep, nothing but lone and level sand to be seen, streching for miles and miles, the wasteland resting soundlessly under the lazy autumn sun.

Courier Six in Goodsprings, small and familiar world, hunting geckos and coyotes. Courier Six in Goodsprings, holding an old friend's gift.

He, the nomad who has finally come home. He, who have doomed Mojave with his passivity, his absence. He, growing old in ignorance.

Sometimes, a familiar voice crackles through the saloon's radio, telling tales of a dam bathed in crimson hues, of a war long lost. Tales of twelve-year-old desert boys wearing uniforms too big for them, of bloodstains on the walls of Californian clinics, of red-clad soldiers dying in their twenties for a man who has burned their futures so that his own torch could blaze over New Vegas.

But Courier Six in his little hut, his little town... A simple life of a simple man closing his eyes under a starless sky and into a dreamless night.