The Wolfboygirl

Sideblog for the Tarathia system. I’m Jace

[genderweirdwolf]

Hello to yall that know me and don’t. I’m Jace, a werewolf alter from the @tarathia system.

This is just a side blog for me, I will be horny on main, but I’ll mostly just post dumb shit.

I use he/she pronouns and I like the term Genderweird to describe myself, idk, gender is dumb.

Uhhhhh, I don’t know what else, eh, ask me shit if you have questions. I might answer, I might see it and never remember to answer, whatever the fuck.

[tgirl-tamag0tchi]

[genderweirdwolf]

My pretty girlfriend <3333

[genderweirdwolf]

Me: I’m so tireddddd, I don’t wanna get up and showerrrr.

My gf: If you get up, I’ll send you a picture of my tits.

Me *instantly getting out of bed*: Ok, I’m up.

My gf: That worked?????

I can’t believe that she doesn’t understand that her tits are fucking beautiful as fuck and that I love them and want to suck them and and and…

[tgirl-tamag0tchi]

Princesses wanna grind against the armored legs of their loyal knights.

[the-ivy-grows-regardless]

Yes

[tgirl-tamag0tchi]

0>0

Good to know Princess

[genderweirdwolf]

Cute princesses~

Well, I don’t have two legs for nothing, now do I?~

[genderweirdwolf]

Fuck, I need to fuck my princess so fucking badly… I need to lift up her dress and pound my fucking cock inside of her over and over until she is begging me, too far gone to even know what she’s begging for.

I need to grab her by her throat and tease her drenched pussy with the pommel of my sword.

I need to be on my knees for her, sucking on her clit as she tangles her fingers in my hair, holding my face so close to her cunt, as if I would ever back away.

I need to taste her on my tongue, deep in her as she contorts in pleasure and clamps down around my tongue.

I need her juices, her cum all over my face, so fucking desperately.

I need her so badly.

[the-sensitive-sadist]

For the millionth time I don't fuck with Conservatives. Your beliefs are abhorrent, you don't understand consent, and you're terrible at sex. Block me or I'll block you.

[enbybutchbf]

boobs bouncing as she rides your cock, facing you, with her wrists tied behind her back, bark if agree

[genderweirdwolf]

Goddamn

[ashes2caches]

transfems get a +50% cuteness multiplier when adjacent to another transfem. yes this stacks.

[tgirl-tamag0tchi]

A toned down but hot girl fit for getting my hair cut.

Fuck you social anxiety…. I can get a wolf cut lol.

[genderweirdwolf]

Wolf cut for the wolfs plaything~

[estrogen-chalk-blood]

Let's talk about talking.

Don't censor yourself. None of the star substitutions, no cutesy euphemisms. Suicide. Kill myself. Sure, it can be scary to say stuff like that out loud.

I remember the first - and last - time I tried to talk to my mother about depression. I tried to be vague, and it got me nowhere. She got so frustrated with me that I just blurted out that I thought I might be depressed. She laughed in my face, asking what a teenager had to be depressed about. I remember feeling lucky that she didn't tell my father.

I then spent many years hiding my depression and cutting. It was punished any time it was brought up or found out, so I got even better at hiding it. So good at hiding it, in fact, that I almost killed myself a couple of times. Once, I was about 90% of the way geared up to slit my wrists and bleed out. My dog came up and licked at the hesitation marks. The worry of him drinking my blood kept me from finishing. The other time, I was just lucky.

There are a lot of things like this. Sexual assault and pedophilia. Self harm and suicide. Substance abuse. Domestic abuse. I'm sure I'm missing many others. When you censor your language around these topics, you only grant power to the people who would seek to abuse. Say what you mean, mean what you say.

[genderweirdwolf]

I fucking love being posted about

I wonder why

[genderweirdwolf]

Holy shit, a hot girl just called me a cute boy!!!

[tgirl-tamag0tchi]

Dork.

[genderweirdwolf]

Shut up, nerd.

[tgirl-tamag0tchi]

^>^

Never.

[genderweirdwolf]

Good, I love your voice

[genderweirdwolf]

Holy shit, a hot girl just called me a cute boy!!!

[tgirl-tamag0tchi]

Dork.

[genderweirdwolf]

Shut up, nerd.

[genderweirdwolf]

Holy shit, a hot girl just called me a cute boy!!!

[tgirl-tamag0tchi]

….

I came thinking about a guy tonight…

For the first time…

I would say that’s gay of me

But nope… fuckk……

[the-ivy-grows-regardless]

Oh? May i ask?

[tgirl-tamag0tchi]

Jdjsjjsjjsjskskkskskkskskksks

I was flirting with a friend on a call… and her headmate switched in

And like

His voice was sojsjjejsjsjsjsjjskskskks

[the-ivy-grows-regardless]

Understood 😌

[tgirl-tamag0tchi]

I guess I have a thing for guys with hot voices ugh…

Seems this recent “working through of trauma”… has made me less uncomfortable with my own bisexuality….

But like… sigh

My lesbian cred…

[genderweirdwolf]

Me me meee!!! That was mee!!!!!

[worst-egirl]

weirdly enough i think it's easier to accept non sexual nudity if you're a bit of a a pervert. like people think "boobs are too sexy, people can't be normal about them", and it seems like a compelling argument, boobs are sexy. but when you realise that other things are sexy as well, things like stomachs, thighs, feet, back muscles, and you can normal about them in a non sexual context, so there's no reason anyone can't be normal about any other part of the body.

[udntnome]

Actually we need to have everyone cover everything. With body suits and gasmasks we will finally be free from perverts and their kinks

[genderweirdwolf]

Uhhhh, boss, I have something to tell you…

What? Noooo…

Ignore my boner

Please

[terrania]

tw assault

She finally looks back at you. “Okay, why me?”

You sputter a little. She’s hot, she’s interesting, she’s really cool-

“Sure. But why me.” You don’t follow? 

“Plenty of people are hot and mean. You’re young, you’re cute, you could get yourself a dozen girls ten times meaner.”

But it’s the way she makes you feel. You look forward to every shift you share with her. She steps in for you when someone’s on your case, makes you feel small and safe. And god, you get so infatuated talking to her! You just want to know more.

She sighs. “Maybe I make you feel nice now. But that’ll change when you’re with me. I mean, you’ll change.”

You look in her eyes, soft but forceful. You wouldn’t betray her like that.

She flicks ash off her Marlboro slim. The pack sits to her left, big white SMOKING WILL KILL YOU in Arial on the front. “You misunderstand. I’m saying there’s only so much to know about someone. Maybe you think that’s what loving someone is, knowing them, but that only works up to a point. Then all you can do is change yourself to fit their needs.”

You balk. You’ve gotten through all your relationships by being yourself. Hasn’t everyone?

“Sure, it’s just “yourself” changes. I mean, everyone has an idea of who you are. Your friends want you to be fun and dumb so you act that way with them. Your parents want you to be polite and soft so that’s who you are when you’re with them.”

You still feel like yourself, either way. Just a different version of yourself.

“Exactly. Their version. And if they control that version of you, and if that’s who you are, then the closest you can be to someone is letting them control you completely.”

Winter breeze above you. The packing truck backs out, the sun is threatening to set. You sip your to-go coffee cup. Painfully sweet, leaving your throat slightly burned.

You place a hand on her shoulder and swear that you don’t need her to be anything other than happy.

She gives you a little Cheshire-cat smile. “So you want me to be a happy person. If I wanted to be with you, I’d have to act positive, like you really make me feel better. You’d want me to get manic when I fuck you, right? Be your perfect little emotional support top who holds you tight and never has her own problems?”

….Okay, you don’t need her to be anything. She can present herself however she likes around you.

She thinks for a moment, then sighs wistfully. “You still have that idea of me in your head.”

Maybe. But you don’t need it satisfied. You lean your head in until your noses almost touch. You tell her that she hasn’t pushed you away, you still feel good around her, and you still want to love her.

She goes quiet. Then she sighs and breaks her cigarette on the curb. “Okay, you’re coming with me.”

You meekly remind her that your break’s nearly over.

“You ate something bad and got food poisoning. You were too weak to drive so I took you back to your place. Now let’s go.”

She drags you across the lot and shoves you in the passenger’s seat. Pulls out quickly but measuredly, the little turns pushing you back and forth. Then you’re on the town’s shitty little main street, and a few minutes later the residential area.

She finally drops her shoulders as the ride nears its end. “I’ve been implying all this is a lot more violating than it really is. That’s how everything feels after you get raped. Suddenly it hurts to be loved and you can never trust anyone.” You never knew, but you probably should have guessed. You give a few lame condolences.

“Yeah, whatever. It’s been years. I actually can’t believe I’m starting over again.” You smile. You have that effect on people.

“Yeah, yeah.” She smiles back wistfully, then stops, looking sick all of the sudden. “God, you’re already changing me.”

You remind her, at any moment she can drive you back. You don’t want to change her, just understand her.

She swallows, then glances back wearily. “Do you understand what I told you? Did it make sense?”

Maybe you don’t know how it feels for everything to be violating, but you know that she deserves to feel better. And you know enough to know she’s a good person.

She laughs bitterly. “Right. So you actually know jack shit.” She parks the car at streetside, run-down brownstone towering over you. She leads you up the stairs to a tiny apartment, dark with clothes across the floor and a grimy kitchen station. Bills taped to the fridge, open bedroom and bathroom doors. Clear line of sight through the bathroom door to window showing no fire escape and indeed no other exits. Bad smell.

“I don’t think you’ve been paying attention. I’m depressed and bitter and I see human connection as selling your soul. Did you wonder if there’s something wrong with me when I said you love someone by letting them own you? What does that imply for you, if you want to love me?”

You give her the same platitudes, she’s not a bad person, she can’t push you away that easily. But somehow those words don’t come as strongly as they’re meant to. It hits you, you’re stuck in this girl’s house, you’re alone with her, and she’s blocking the door. You told yourself you were letting her drag you here, but did you really have a choice? There’s a wild look in her eyes now, she’s breathing heavy like she’s scared of her too.

No. You’re not giving up on her like that. You walk up to her and say, she’s right, you don’t know what it’s like to be raped. But you want to understand her so, so badly. And she can’t convince you to be afraid of her.

She gives you a manic laugh, grabs your face tight with both hands. “Yeah? Will you feel fucking better when you know what it’s like? Do you want to be a victim that bad? You make me fucking sick.” You say it’s okay to feel sick after what happened to her. It’s natural. She’s still a good person.

She steps back from you, that mania turning to fear. Then you hear her mumble a “fucking fine.” Her hands grab your wrist and the back of your neck, tighter than ever, forcing you into a kiss.

Her mouth is warm and tastes of smoke. Her teeth glide over your tongue, giving it little bites. She’s sucking on you uncomfortably hard, and when she pulls away the skin under your tongue is very sore.

Words stumble out of you, something like wait, you’re still a good person, it’s okay, stop, you’re safe, no, please, no, no, but she’s not listening anymore. Your vision darkens as she drags you into her bedroom.