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wingedjellyfishflight · 2 months

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Harem in Reverse

"You're soon to be 26, Your Royal Highness. You must put together your harem soon or risk being married off to whomever the regent chooses for you." You sigh, nodding in agreement. Choosing a direct husband would be against the rules, and frankly, you weren't interested in interviewing for the perfect man. Choosing many for their adherence to various qualities, though. That would be a good choice. "Shall I put forth a call for certain attributes? Strong arms? Large chest? Impressive intellect?"

"No, I want to review the troops this week. I will find my consorts among the best our nation has to offer." The advisor looks stunned.

"Your Royal Highness, those are rough men. They do not have the breeding or training to handle you gently as a consort should. They are-."

"Advisor Williams, I know what attributes I am looking for. Schedule me to review the best of the troops, then. If none catch my eye, then I will consider others." The advisor nods, frustrated at not being heeded, but knowing they must follow a direct order.

The following week, you are almost nervous while getting ready, the beginning of butterflies in your stomach. If you weren't so tired, you're sure it would be worse, but the night before was yet another attempt on your life. They are becoming more frequent and more violent now.

Sighing, you hurry to the courtyard where your mount, Rosebud, is waiting. A gift that you feel had been meant to be another threat on your life. The mount was no ordinary horse or pony. Instead, it was the largest draft mule you had ever seen. If you had treated him like a horse, you're sure the thing would have stomped within minutes. He was a vain creature who had to be sweet-talked and treated with utmost respect before he would agree to do much of anything. He was covered in whip and spur scars, telling anyone that he was difficult to force submission from, despite their best efforts. Not that you thought anyone could force an animal born of a mammoth jack donkey and a Shire horse to submit physically. You loved each and every scar, the signs of his stubborn nature on display for all to see.

"Hello, sweet boy." You greet him and let him snuffle you over, waving off the over eager stable hand. "May I ride you today? I am to inspect the troops." He blows a huff of air and turns his head away. You slide your hand along his proud neck and across his withers to the saddle. Checking it over, you deem it done well enough and climb on his back. Your legs spread wide across his broad barrel. Your advisors turn away, knowing that you will refuse their most strident pleas to ride sidesaddle.

"Let us inspect the troops." With that, the company is off at a quick walk to the parade grounds. Your group of advisors and the personal guard that you only marginally trust join the General and his entourage at the front of the formation. You strongly dislike the General. He is somehow the worst mix of ass kissing and condescending.

"The army is excited to be inspected this morning, Your Royal Highness." You barely manage to cover your snort. There is no way they are happy to be here standing in the sun to be inspected on your whim. You move from company to company, looking over the men and pointing out individuals to be inspected, but seeing none you would consider as consort. Reaching the special forces, the rabid dogs as your advisors refer to them, the General is incensed to see that the leader of one is missing.

"Where is the Captain? This is not an optional inspection!"

A man steps forward, "He was injured in a skirmish this week and is still confined to the hospital, General Argus." Looking over the group, you see several still sport bandages and healing abrasions. You nudge your mount closer, his ears perked forward in a match to your curiosity. The General apologizes to you for the disrespect of the men for not appearing but is cut off.

"Your Royal Highness. Escaping the hospital took longer than predicted. For that, I sincerely apologize." You turn, seeing a man limping toward the formation at a quick pace. This must be the Captain. As he falls in, you dismount your mule, resting your hand on his broad neck. Your personal guard hurriedly surrounds you, standing much too close. Rosebud takes exception to being crowded, ears flattening against his head. He strikes out like a snake. His teeth click just shy of the nearest man, who stumbles back yelling and unsheathes a sword. Without a thought, you draw your own ceremonial dagger.

"Touch one hair on Rosebud, and I will gut you." Everyone around you freezes before slowly backing away. "I will not be crowded by your incompetent forms when I am here to inspect the troops." They retreat from your anger, not wanting to risk you calling for their death. Rosebud drops his head, relaxing, and you absentmindedly rub his long ear the way he loves. His lip twitches and his eyes half close for a moment before he pulls away. You step forward, and Rosebud matches your pace, keeping his shoulder just behind yours. It took months to build up a relationship with him, and now he is putty in your hands most days.

An advisor tries to signal you to stay back, but you ignore them, your eyes on the men, looking for the best of them. You memorize the name of the Captain and another likely candidate, signaling Advisor Williams to your side. He groans but carefully walks to you, eyes locked on the increased alertness of Rosebud.

"I will have an audience with this Captain Price and Colonel König. As soon as the men are dismissed. In private." You walk forward and give a cursory inspection to the man who had spoken on the Captain's behalf. His uniform is impeccable, you are happy to see. You don't want them punished on your behalf. The smirk on his face beneath his mask sends a thrill through you. Another man who is not cowed by your station. That is important in advisors. Lieutenant Riley, his uniform says. You nod and mount Rosebud again, rejoining the pack of advisors to inspect the remaining troops. No others catch your eye.

Walking into your State room, you signal for everyone except the two soldiers to leave. While unusual, they are compelled to do so by your haughty glares and Advisor Williams guiding them away, barring the doors behind him and standing guard. Sitting in your throne, you drag your eyes over the men. Colonel König is wearing his customary face covering, and Captain Price has the cover he is well-known for in his hands.

"I have a proposal for you both that I want you to carefully consider. This proposal will not be spoken of again if you decline and it will not leave this room." The men perk up, and you see heat in their eyes as they consider one of the possibilities of your words. "I need advisors who are not advisors." That throws them off, and you see the Colonel shift uneasily. "These advisors would be the closest of any man or woman to me. They would teach and protect me with their very lives. My life is under threat and has been since the King and Queen died, my uncle taking over as Regent. I need advisors who will help me oust him and take my rightful place on the throne without contest and without raising his suspicions. Thus, I need men who will join my harem." You pause, savoring the way their faces change as they process this.

"Your Royal Highness, are you asking us to find you men to join your harem? That is most unusual, but we will do our best." You shake your head at Captain Price.

"Yes, but not in the way you are thinking. I am asking the two of you to join my harem and to advise me on the best men to round out such a harem. To be advisors and leaders in removing the despot from his fake throne. To be my lovers, spoiled in every way and to guard me from all attempts on my life. I want you both, and I trust you to choose others and to bring them to me for approval. If you decline this position, we shall never speak on it again."

"Yes, I would be honored to be chosen for your harem, Your Royal Highness." Colonel König does not hesitate to agree. He feels he has loved you from afar for years, and this is an opportunity he will not squander.

"I would be as well, Your Royal Highness." Captain Price is confident that declining now would be a mistake, and he is not a man prone to mistakes. "I have a few men in mind that would be good additions. They are a bit of a package deal." You nod, expecting as much.

"Their names?"

"John MacTavish, Simon Riley and Kyle Garrick, Your Royal Highness."

"I have two in mind that would be good choices as well. Hiro Watanabe and Kim Hong-jin. They are foreign, but good, loyal and strong men, Your Royal Highness."

The smile you bestow them with is almost a surprise to the men. "Then, I wish for you to gather your men and their belongings. You will join me tonight, my consorts."

"Yes, Your Royal Highness." The men bow and leave, stunned at the way this meeting has gone. You order Advisor Williams to prepare the harem quarters and pack your own belongings secretly. It would be folly to live apart from the men who will be your new private guard and you would be lying if you weren't excited to see under those perfectly done uniforms.

#konig x reader #könig x reader #call of duty #cod smut #ghost cod #ghost x reader #john soap mactavish #kyle gaz garrick #simon ghost riley #captain john price #price x reader #soap x reader #gaz x reader #hiro watanabe #kim hong jin #simon riley x reader

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cosmiiwrites · 2 months

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·˚ ༘₊· ͟͟͞͞꒰➳ enemies to lovers

.ೃ࿐ adam x fem!reader .ೃ࿐

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ summary: in which you and adam find out you don't hate each other as much as you think you do cw: NSFW, fem!reader, p in v, oral (fem recieving), creampie, adam (he's his own warning), hair pulling, semi-public sex, cussing a/n: FINALLY DONE !! first smut fic though, so apologies if some things dont make sense :(

you hated adam. you hated his cocky attitude and his fuckboy persona. and most of all, you hated how everyone stayed quiet about it. him being the first man didn't mean jack shit to you. if he was being an egotistical asshole? you won't hesitate to put him in his place. even if that meant starting an argument in front of the promenade, putting your hatred for one another on display.

adam, on the other hand, loved someone who could match his abrasive attitude. and it meant more that you went out of your way to shout insults at him every chance you got. to be honest? it turned him on. but he would rather die then admit that. during meetings, you two would bicker non-stop, shooting daggers at each other from across the table. so yes, everyone and their mothers knew about you and adam's ongoing feud. what did everyone also know? the unspoken sexual tension between you two. the tension so thick it was tangible. the tension everyone knew about except the two idiots who claimed they hated each other. even lute was getting sick of it. "what a bitch, am i right?" "yes, sir." "she's just salty because i'd never go for a cunt like her," "mhm, sir." "maybe i sho-" "you know what i just remembered? sera saying she had something to discuss with me. ill be leaving now, sir." adam shot her a confused look. it wasnt like lute to walk out on a conversation so abruptly. (spoiler alert, she just didnt want to hear adam talk about you for the millionth time today) "well, uh, shit, okay." upon leaving, adam bumped into a familiar face. "well, well, well, if it isn't-" you slid right past him, ignoring any advance he'd tried making towards you. "what the fuck?" adam's face grew warm from embarrassment. did you just ignore him? he planted himself in front of you, hoping to make a statement. his tall figure hovered over yours. "ignoring me, hm? is that any way to treat the first man?" he teased. you sighed and rubbed your forehead in annoyance before answering, "if by 'first man' you mean 'overly-confident egomaniac' then yes." that's what adam liked about you; you didnt kiss his ass 24/7 like all the other angels. you didnt crave his approval. "i seriously don't understand how people can tolerate being around you," you groaned.

"oh fuck off, the ladies love me," he grinned. "especially in be-" you threw your hand to cover his mouth. "ugh, spare me the details, you gross fuck." your statement only widened his shit-eating grin. "why, jealous?" he teased, dragging on the s. "fuck, no! i feel bad for all the women you've slept with, they've probably faked all their orgasms as to not hurt your fragile ego." you retorted. adam's smirk dropped. he couldn’t BELIEVE you thought he was incapable of pleasuring a woman. luckily for you, his anger quickly turned to interest as an idea popped up in adam's head. he leaned into your ear, voice low and husky, "you wanna bet on that?"

taken aback from his sudden offer , you backed up until your back hit the wall of the alley you two were in. “what,” you breathed, “are you on about?”

“if i can make you cum,” adam started, “you have to admit that one; im the dick-fuckin’-master, and two; i AM capable of pleasuring a woman. deal?” adam's said a ton of dumb shit, but this? you let out a boisterous laugh. “are you serious?” but after a few beats of unearthly silence, thats when you knew he was. “well, shit.” you did want a chance at proving him wrong and taking down his ego. to be fair, no one’s made you cum in a long, long time. and you were always up for a challenge.

you grabbed adam by the collar and dragged him down to your level.

“deal.”

———————————————————————

thats how you found yourself up against a wall, being eaten out by the first man, the first soul in heaven, and your well-known rival.

you didnt want to admit it, but god, this man was good with his tongue. not to mention his hands.

he gripped your thighs tightly, spreading them apart and smirking up at you. your flustered face drove him mad, only fueling his desire for you. its not his fault you looked so fuckin’ cute. maybe he should get you like this more often…

adam shamelessly licked up and down your entrance, earning small involuntary whimpers from you. he dragged his hand down your thigh to rub circles on your clit, making you twitch under his touch. “taste so fuckin’ good,” he growled. wanting more, you tugged at his hair, forcing his tongue to prod at your cunt. “impatient, are we? and to think you hated me.”

it was like he was waiting for this exact moment; for adam ate like a man starved. like he hadn’t eaten in days, and you were the only thing that could nourish him.

suddenly, he sunk his long tongue into your clit, “shit, adam!” he smirked against your cunt. “enjoying y’self, babe?” “f-fuck—haah—you!” was all you can manage, before he sunk his tongue deeper into you, fingers now circling your clit twice as fast. “dont worry, tits, you’ll be doing that in a bit.”

it wasnt long before you had cum all over his tongue and face, panting like a maniac. you had already lost the bet, but you didnt care. nor had any of you two mentioned it. lost in a drunken haze, all you wanted was his cock buried inside of you.

you quickly recovered from your high and grinded against his painfully hard erection. “s-shit, babe, didn’t take you for a desperate whore,” adams words were slurred, his need for you fogging his brain. “s-shut up,” you retorted “looks like you can still talk back,” he grinned. “i’ll fuck that bratty attitude out of you.” “youve yet to do so,” you teased. “you bluffing, dickmaster?” oh, now you’ve got him in a chokehold.

those would be your famous last words, before adam would recklessly pound into you.

adam quickly undid his boxers, revealing his hard cock, precum already spilling from his tip. you thought he was joking when he called himself the ‘dickmaster.’ you silently wondered how that would fit inside of you. “see how fuckin’ worked up you get me, tits?” adam babbled.

he bent you over, your wrists just above your head.

you were about to reply with a snarky comeback when he pushed his cock into you, no warning beforehand.

“i fuckin’ knew it,” he said. “tight as shit. bet no one’s fucked you as good as im about to, huh?” you wanted to respond, to deny his accusations, but the only sounds that left your mouth were desperate moans and whimpers. it was like music to his ears, fueling him to fuck you brainless.

his large size stung, but pain quickly turned to pleasure when he began to move.

he picked up his pace, pounding into you brutally. it was oh, so sinful. but adam would go to hell anyday if that meant he could have your tight little cunt all to himself.

adam took a fistful of your hair, forcing your back to arch. when you didnt protest, adam threw a line of praise at you. “there we go, good fuckin’ girl, just like that…” the position you were in was a bit uncomfortable, but you quickly stopped paying attention to that when adam thrusted into you sharply. “s-so good f’me,” he babbled.

you knew he was almost at his peak when his thrusts grew sloppy. “shit, almost there, fuck!” he groaned. “m-me too, adam, fuck,”

in one deep thrust, he buried himself inside of you, spilling his cum. you felt your stomach grow warm, full of adam’s seed.

adam was still inside of you, even after you both had came. there were no sounds other than your pants and his huffs. thank god this was an empty street.

finally, he pulled out of you. you whined at the loss of contact, earning you a cheeky grin.

“so,” he said, breaking the silence. “how was that for pleasuring a woman, hmmm?” adam smirked. “still hate me?”

“always, just a little less now.”

#hazbin hotel smut #hazbin hotel x reader #adam hazbin #hazbin hotel adam x reader #adam x reader #hazbin hotel alastor #angel dust #hazbin lucifer #smut #dickmaster #hazbin hotel lute #sir pentious #charlie morningstar #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel x you #adam x you #x reader

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twistedwonderlandimaginesblog · 3 days

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MC uses magic for the first time and is so happy! It's nothing big, just a small spark, but MC is overjoyed with how cool it is. How would their friends react? Ace, Deuce, Epel, Jack, and Sebek?

Ace Trappola:

Ace is in disbelief, uttering an insensitive ‘wow I didn’t think you could do that’. You’re too overjoyed to take offense from his comment but he does backpedal as it wasn’t quite what he meant. He’d just seen you try for so long he didn’t know if you would be able to perform magic since there were plenty of people who couldn’t, but he’s glad that you’re tapping into your real magical power. He tells you that you did a good job but you still had a long way to catch up to him.

Deuce Spade:

Deuce is excited for you! He’d seen the way you struggled and how hard you continued to work, knowing there had been many nights of disappointment. Now that you’re finally seeing success he hoped you continued striving for more, for bigger sparks and perhaps even a whole fire with some practice. Deuce is always in your corner so you know his enthusiasm is genuine and not making fun of your excitement.

Epel Felmier:

Epel felt relieved that your training had amounted to something, knowing how it felt when countless hours ended with seemingly no change. He congratulates you on a good job with a smile, asking what your next step was going to be. Were you going to try a different spell, or expand your knowledge of this one? He doesn’t have a reason to be invested in your training but he still found himself wanting to watch over you.

Jack Howl:

It puts some things into perspective for Jack. While it is overall unimpressive as a feat of magic, for you who has never successfully cast magic, it’s the most exciting thing on the planet. All magic starts from a small spark, and the only way to improve was continuing to encourage you to keep it up. He applauded your hard work and congratulated you on your new achievement, embarrassed afterwards as he wondered if he went a little too far or if he laid it on too thick.

Sebek Zigvolt:

Sebek will applaud a job well done, but he makes it known there’s still much you have to do to excel at magic. You’ve managed to hit the first step, with a taste for how magic flows through your body, and now it was time to see what else you could do. It might seem abrasive but it’s coming from a good place, as Sebek had always believed in your ability to perform magic even if it took you longer than normal. He didn’t want you to stop as you now had momentum, and he’d make sure you stayed focused so you could reach your true potential.

#Twisted Wonderland #TWST #Twisted Wonderland Imagines #Twisted Wonderland x Reader #TWST Imagines #TWST x Reader #Jack Howl #Sebek Zigvolt #Deuce Spade #Ace Trappola #Epel Felmier #Jack Howl x Reader #Sebek Zigvolt x Reader #Deuce Spade x Reader #Ace Trappola x Reader #Epel Felmier x Reader

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cherubfae · 3 months

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Alastor's Lament || Jack Skellington!Alastor x Sally!AFAB!Reader

What if all this power as an Overlord has grown tiring for Alastor? Sure, he likes it. But can he even hope to yearn for something different? Could helping the hotel be his missing piece? Could you?

tags: gn!afab!reader, half-ragdoll!sinner!reader, Jack Skellington!Alastor, hurt/comfort, loneliness, implied abuse, blood/gore, protective!Alastor, friends to lovers

a/n: Tim Burton still has some of my favorite films and I'm also going to be working on a Victoria/Victor Al x afab!reader, so please look forward to that! ^~^ Sally's Song belongs to Disney!

From his little corner of Hell, Alastor could see the pale white moon embedded in the red sea sky from his radio tower. On a rare night where the moon could be seen so clearly, it left a deep sense of melancholy within his chest; even his dead heart ached.

All of his years as an Overlord seemed to drain him. Bartering souls had been his greatest pleasure, and sure, he was rather powerful but now that he had all this power; what was it worth to keep gaining? He was already one of the most feared. He sought out a new career path, to become Hazbin's hotelier to rehabilitate demons! It gave him a spark of interest that had been lost in him for centuries. Everything came easy to Alastor. Everything except you.

What a simply fascinating creature you were! Able to unstitch your limbs and sew them back together good as new! He considered you one of his dearest friends, a lovely thought always lingering in the back of his mind. Yet time and time again you seemed to slip away into the night before he could say anything, or even thank you for the lovely vintage wine you'd gifted him. Like a whisper in the dark, you had disappeared.

Not even Rosie had seen you. Which was growing more and more worrisome with the more the hours ticked on by. Where could you have gone? Were you alright? It was an uncommonly chilly night in Hell, thanks to an ice demon casting a spell over the lands as of recent. It was certainly no weather to be out and about in if one could help it.

The Radio Demon was aware of the unsavory living conditions you kept living with your adopted father and self-appointed 'creator' (which was wholly untrue), Dr. Twisttike, having invited you to live at the Hazbin Hotel. Even Charlie, Princess of Hell, had cordially invited you but the two were unaware of just how tightly you were bound to an over- controlling demon. One who claimed that he made you, therefore you were his.

Shaking his head, Alastor fretted over his blueprints for a new radio tower design, yet that inescapable feeling of dread continued to gnaw at his bones like a starved dog. He runs his hand over his face, down the red pinstriped suit, stopping to adjust his black buck shaped bowtie. Its glimmering red eyes blinked. This will simply not do. He needed to find you.

Hidden away, locked inside of your 'room' once more by the demon who held your chain so tightly, you weep silently to yourself. "And will he see how much he means to me?"

"Will you stop that dreadful singing?" Dr. Twisttike hissed, grasping your glowing pale blue chain and yanking you harshly. You fall to your knees, scraping your hands against the dirty concrete. Red abrasions collected on your palms, threatening to break the surface of your skin. "Your lover boy, Alastor, won't be coming for you, dear. You think you can keep up with a demon such as him? Look at yourself. You can't even keep your stitches together. Next time I make a ragdoll, I'll make one out of proper cloth and not flesh like you. All you do is cry and bleed." Clicking his tongue, he leaves you crying on the cold ground.

With your knees tucked to your chest, you sigh. That brute of a man--demon, oftentimes left you more undone than anything else did. Constantly pulling apart your stitches and not letting you put yourself back together. He almost let you catch fire a few weeks ago. Sure, none of this could kill you. But that didn't mean that it doesn't hurt when it happens.

Standing to look out your window, you hum to yourself. You could see the peak of Alastor's radio tower from here, the full moon rising behind like a great beacon. An immense sense of longing filled your body, you hoped he was looking at the same moon and feeling the same way as you. With a gasp, you slip through the partially opened gap and allow yourself to fall to the cobblestone. More abrasions and bruises from, your blood coagulating from your missing limbs.

Plucking out a needle from behind your ear, you begin to sew yourself back together, hissing softly around a particular tender area. Standing on rather wobbly feet at first until you break out into a sprint before your Overlord can know you've left. Your other arm was left behind, but you couldn't be bothered with that now. You needed to get away, heading towards the highest hill of town, near Alastor's tower.

Alastor frantically searches around town. There's still no sign of you anywhere. Dread continues to eat away at him, until he finds himself standing outside the gates of your home. The dread boils away into anger. Your sweet scent lingers in the air mixed with the scent of blood and fear. You were hurt. Bleeding. He wills himself to calm down, his claws bending through metal gates as he pushes them open with brute force.

"Ah, Alastor! Welcome, welcome, come in my dear boy!" Dr. Twisttike's serpentine tail swishes behind him, allowing the tall redhead into the cramped and dingey house.

Even for Hell's standards, the old and decrepit house was absolutely deplorable. A sulfuric musty smell hung in the air, damp with black mold and cobwebs clinging to every viable rafter.

Tension wafted through the air, Alastor's scarlet eyes turning into radio dials. In an instant, he's turned into his full demon form, mouth sewn by green stitches. A glowing green chain wraps taught around Dr. Twisttike, sending him to the ground with a harsh thud.

"Where are they?" Alastor's neck cracks at an ungodly angle, the echo of screams surrounding him. When Twisttike fails to speak, Alastor yanks the chain harshly, his heeled shoe slamming down onto the demon's claw, snapping it clean off. Black inky blood oozes from the putrid wound. "I won't ask again, good man. Where are they?"

Dr. Twisttike rasps, "Upstairs! Their bedroom! Please, stop!" Alastor snaps his fingers, the demon's limbs and extremities are bound by glowing green rope.

Alastor thunders up the spiral staircase. "My dearest! Are you here?" His eyes are frantic, wild. His ears stand alert, waiting for any sign of your lovely voice calling out to him. The only answer he receives is a perplexing silence. He rounds the corner to enter your door lies and snarls. "A cell? You keep my darling in a goddamned cell?"

Blowing the door off the hinges, Alastor surveys the small, cramped room. There's a bare bed with a single flimsy blanket and ragged old pillow. Small splatters of bloodstains stain those sheets. A tiny dresser to the right of the bed holding a single analog clock that seems to have stopped working long ago. The walls are bare of any color and character, with peeling paint and black mold scuttled around the corners of the ceiling like soot sprites. Everything he knows that you love and adore does not reflect in your room. There was no personalization, there was no you. It's uncomfortably damp. It was nothing short of a miracle that you weren't sick.

"You pitiful creature, keeping my beloved in such conditions. Why I should--," Alastor's sentence does in the back of his throat, noticing something half-hanging out the window. A dismembered arm, the thread of your stitches caught on a rusty nail. Carefully expecting it, he gently traces the stitch marks. "Hmm, it appears I have no more use for you, Dr. Twisttike."

A sickening squelch echoes throughout the house as Dr. Twisttike's body splatters all across the walls. Alastor's slithering tentacle removes itself from the corpse, shaking off the blood before retreating into his back. There isn't much left of the poor fool other than the remains of his guts and brain matter. Alastor carefully dabs his cheek free of blood, holding your severed arm close to his chest. He exits, form swallowed by darkness and shadow. Behind him, the home ignites into hellish green flames.

It did not take long for Alastor to find you. You nearly took his breath away. Your gaze is so beautiful and forlorn, sitting on a hill with the clearest view of the large full moon. The silver light casts delicate shadows against your skin as you hum a soft song to yourself. What a true, ethereal beauty you are.

"My dearest friend," rumbles Alastor, his tone a delicate purr. You stand in surprise, which quickly melts into a delicate smile. "If you don't mind, I'd like to join you by your side. Where we can gaze into the stars," Alastor gently reattached your arm, green magic carefully sewing it back on you.

"And sit together."

"Now and forever."

|| I DON'T GIVE PERMISSION FOR MY WORKS TO BE REPOSTED, RESHARED, OR EDITED. TUMBLR IS MY ONLY ACCOUNT AND THE ONLY PLACE WHERE I POST MY WRITING. ALL CHARACTERS BELONG TO THEIR RIGHTFUL OWNERS, THE STORY BELONGS TO ME. || CHERUBFAE © 2024

"For it as plain as anyone could see, we're simply meant to be." With a gentle embrace, Alastor presses his lips to yours, tugging you into his arms and off the chilly ground.

#hazbin hotel imagines #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel x you #hazbin imagines #alastor x reader #hazbin alastor x reader #alastor x you #alastor imagine #cherubfae 2024

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nasa · 1 year

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50 Years Ago: Apollo 17

Not long after midnight on Dec. 7, 1972, the last crewed mission to the Moon, Apollo 17, lifted off with three astronauts: Eugene Cernan, Harrison Schmitt, and Ronald Evans.

Experience the Apollo 17 launch and follow the mission in real time.

Meet the Crew

Let’s meet the astronauts who made the final Apollo trip to the Moon, including the first scientist-astronaut.

Gene Cernan: In 1972, Apollo 17 Mission Commander Eugene A. Cernan had two space flights under his belt, Gemini 9 in June 1966, and Apollo 10 in May 1969. He was a naval aviator, electrical and aeronautical engineer and fighter pilot.

Ron Evans: Apollo 17 Command Module Pilot Ronald E. Evans was selected as a member of the 4th group of NASA astronauts in 1966. Like Cernan, he was an electrical and aeronautical engineer, and naval aviator before his assignment to the Apollo 17 crew.

Harrison (Jack) Schmitt: Lunar Module Pilot Dr. Harrison (Jack) Schmitt joined NASA as a member of the first group of scientist-astronauts in 1965. Before working for NASA, Schmitt was a geologist at the USGS Astrogeology Center. He was on the backup crew for Apollo 15 before being selected for the prime crew of Apollo 17. He became the first of the scientist-astronauts to go to space and the 12th human to walk on the Moon.

The Blue Marble

“The Blue Marble,” one of the most reproduced images in history, was taken 50 years ago on Dec. 7, 1972 by the Apollo 17 crew as they made their way to the Moon.

Bag of Soup, Anyone?

NASA astronauts have an array of menu items to stay well fed and hydrated on missions. For Apollo 17, the menus allocated around 2,500 calories per day for each astronaut. They included:

Bacon Squares

Peanut Butter Sandwiches

Frankfurters

Lobster Bisque

Like anything going to space, weight and containment matter. That's why the Apollo 17 menu included plenty of soups and puddings.

Synchronicity

On Dec. 11, 2022, the Artemis I mission will be splashing down on Earth after its 25.5-day mission. At 2:55 p.m. 50 years prior, the Apollo 17 lunar module (LM) landed on the Moon, with Commander Gene Cernan and LM Pilot Harrison Schmitt on board. Ron Evans remained in the Command and Service Module (CSM) orbiting the Moon.

Experience the landing.

Planting the Flag

One of the first tasks the Apollo 17 crew did on their first moonwalk was to plant the American flag. There’s no wind on the Moon, but that doesn’t mean the flag has to droop. Did you know that a horizontal rod with a latch makes the flag appear to be flying in the wind? Gene Cernan carefully composed this photo to get Schmitt, the flag, and the Earth in a single shot.

So, is the flag still there? Images of the Apollo 17 landing site from the Lunar Reconnaissance Orbiter Camera show that in 2011 the flag was still standing and casting a shadow!

Moon Buggy

During Apollo 17, the Lunar Rover Vehicle (LRV), nicknamed the Moon buggy, logged the farthest distance from the Lunar Module of any Apollo mission, about 4.7 miles (7.5 km).

As a precaution, the LRV had a walk-back limit in the event of an issue; astronauts had to have enough resources to walk back to the lunar module if need be.

Grab the Duct Tape!

The right rear fender extension of the LRV (Moon buggy) was torn off, kicking up dust as the crew drove, reducing visibility. The crew made a resourceful repair using duct tape and maps.

For LRV fans, visiting an LRV driven on the Moon is a bit difficult since all three LRVs used on the Apollo 15, 16, and 17 missions were left on the Moon. But you can find an LRV used for training at the National Air and Space Museum in Washington. Read more about the LRV.

The Perils of Lunar Dust

After the first lunar EVA, Apollo 17 astronaut Harrison Schmitt reported that he suffered from “lunar hay fever” in reaction to the lunar dust. Unlike Earth’s dust particles which are rounded, Moon dust particles are sharp and abrasive, irritating astronaut eyes, nasal passages, and lungs.

Curious about how Moon dust feels and smells? Find out!

So What’s it Like?

After his return to Earth, Apollo 17 astronaut Harrison Schmitt (on the right) described his time on the Moon:

“Working on the Moon is a lot of fun. It’s like walking around on a giant trampoline all the time and you’re just as strong as you were here on Earth, but you don’t weigh as much.”

Splashdown!

After 12 days and 14 hours in space, the Apollo 17 astronauts splashed down in the Pacific Ocean at 2:25 p.m. EST on Dec. 19, 1972. It was the longest of all the Apollo missions, with the most photos taken. A recovery team was waiting on the USS Ticonderoga just 4 miles (6.4 km) away to pick up the astronauts, the lunar samples, and the Crew Module.

When Are We Going Back?

NASA’s Artemis Program has taken its first steps to sending humans back to the Moon with Artemis I, currently on its way back to Earth. The program plans to land humans, including the first women and person of color, on the Moon’s south polar region with its Artemis III mission, currently slated to launch in 2025.

Is aerospace history your cup of tea? Be sure to check out more from NASA’s past missions at www.nasa.gov/history.

Make sure to follow us on Tumblr for your regular dose of space!

#nasa #space #history #photography #moon #science #artemis #spaceblr #1970s #tech #technology #astronauts

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mcytblrconfessions · 5 months

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yeah these asks are mid i’m going to start sending in blatant misinformation. pearlescentmoon is my favorite british youtuber. fundy is my cousin and we go out for brunch once a month. purpled placed a hit on me and hired grian to kill me and i’m currently hiding out with jack manifold, whose abrasive aura is dirty enough to shield me from any family friendly youtubers who dare to come after me

#confession

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morallyinept · 8 months

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Pedro Boys & Kinks 🥴

Today we're getting kinky with the Pedro Boys...

NSFW due to the nature of the smutty talk.

Check out more of my Pedro Boys Rambles here.

I make no apologies for this. Well, maybe some...

Enjoy! 🖤

Joel Miller - Nylons.

This rugged old man with the bad knees loves to tear through your pantyhose like a rabid madman in the throes of a Cordyceps freak out! Le freak, c'est chic. He's drooling, darlin'. He loves to lick your pussy through them, watching the wet patch bloom into the silky mesh of your oozy camel toe. Feel the smooth slide of them against his morose face as he runs his scruff up your legs and into your parted thighs. Those thick, calloused fingers are soon tearing them open as he literally dives face first into your sopping cunt. I mean, he's been starving for a while now. Chef Boyardee ain't cutting it. Joel's a hungry man and it's not long after that, that he's planting his crimson capped mushroom deep inside you; fisting at the shredded hosiery around your thighs. In the days before the outbreak, Joel was an absolute sucker for a pair of black hold ups with a lacy top. And if they had little satin bows on? Well, that's a sure fire way to finish him off. And Joel Miller is fucking indestructible, right?

Well, mostly. Abby Anderson might have something to do with that… Sssh! 🤫

Francisco Morales - Gagging.

The best way to hook this Catfish line and sinker, is to take him right back deep into your throat and watch as he loses all his shit. Frankie's gonna start killing people! Lots of spit, sucking, drooling and if you cry those mascara tears from the strain down your cheeks? Even better, hermosa. You can bet that Frankie will bust more than just his nuts as you chow down at the all-you-can-eat dick buffet and swallowing all of that Fish yoghurt. (Urm, eww?) You'll have this handsome pilot flying high, and without the use of nose powder. Standard Heating Oil cap stays on. The whole damn time.

Ezra - Urophilia & Squirting.

Ezra is a kinky scoundrel deep down. We all know it. Don't be fooled by that doe-eyed, self-redemption of our ramblin' man. Even with one arm he can still get his freak on with vigour. And don't let the fact he has one arm hold him back either. Oh no, little bird. He'll fingerbang you so hard until you're gushing all over his arm and he's licking it all up greedily. S'better than mining for Aurelac. Ezra's biggest kink is railing you when you really need to pee. And you can bet he'll press down on your bladder so you let it out all over him as you cum wildly. Time for a golden shower for our sweaty prospector. Panties down, Birdie.

Dieter Bravo - Abrasion (Touch Sensations)

This trashy floof-panda loves to touch things, always feeling things up when he's high off his tits. Rubbing his face against the wall, fingering through the shag, even licking it on occasion. And don't give him bubble wrap when he's fucked up twelve ways to Sunday n' tripping balls. You'll never get it back. The same applies when you're fucking; your body is a touch soaked candyland for him to explore, mount and peak. And dribble over. He'll take his sweet time doing it all too with awed bloodshot-eyes and then indulge in a post-coital KitKat for a munchies treat. Dieter won't share it though; he's never giving this up.

Agent Whiskey - Impact Play

Ol' handsome Jack has an adept arsenal of kinky whips and lassos. Of course he's gonna use them on ya, sugar. We all know how good Jack is with a whip. He loves it when the skin breaks and you bleed a little too. Those thick, red welts criss-crossing over your pert booty that he'll slap whilst he fucks you like a bucking bronco get him staying hard for the duration, ma'am. But he likes spending time soothing you afterwards by rubbing cool and nourishing salves and lotions into your cheeks and kissing all over them like succulent peaches. Cowboy Jack is all about the aftercare, doll. A true Southern dandy indeedy.

Javier Peña - Quirofilia (Hands/Nails)

Javier always notices when you've had your nails done. Complimenting you on the colour, the shape; the glitzy gems on your pointer finger that twinkle at him as he fucks your fist in the file room tucked away amongst boxes of Escobar's reciepts and spurts down your skirt. Yeah, thanks, Javi. He loves it even more when they're raking down his back leaving pink claw marks in his tan skin that make him growl and bear his teeth, as he ploughs you deeper into the mattress, cariño.

Oberyn Martell - Wax Play

Oberyn loves making patterns on your skin as he drips the hot wax onto it and watches you sizzle. Peeling it off when it dries is the best part to reveal succulent pink nipples he sucks on and soothes from the heated burn they've endured. Fucking by candlelight will almost guarantee that the Red Viper will sink his fangs into your flesh to poison you all over again after he sets you aflame. Is it getting hot in here?

Marcus Pike - Cuckolding

Well cuck-a-doodle-do-me. Marcus loves watching you get taken by another, far more superior, person, and your pleasure at that suggestion only fuels his own further. He loves hearing how weak and pathetic he is and how he's never made you cum (even if it's a playful lie, I mean it's Marcus-fucking-Pike, come on. The man spends hours pulling them big O's out of you.) And if you poke fun at the size of his cock, (even if it is a whopper) he'll ruin himself right there fuelling your laughter as he watches you get railed without being able to touch. Guarantee it.

Dave York - Knife Play

Murder Daddy Dave loves to watch you squirm as he runs the whisper of a cool, sharp blade against your milky skin. A gentle nick or a subtle graze into the skin where the blood bubbles up, makes his cock harder than the thought of Carol's Sunday casserole. Holding it to your throat as he dicks you down is even better. Play victim for Daddy, Princess. And when you beg him to use the handle in place of his cock, well Daddy Dave is only too obliging for his good little cum slut. Good girl.

Pero Tovar - Sploshing.

I mean it's food, d'uh. Sit on a cake and let this hungry Spainard feast off of you like his enjoying his last meal. Fruit, honey, cream… okra. You name it, he'll eat from the serving platter of your tasty flesh, and will then eat you out afterwards. Either way Pero will be getting his fill one way or another. Better have some Pepto handy.

Din Djarin - Shibari

The Mandalorian can either bring you in warm or bring you in roped up. Taking his sweet, agonising time in tying the silk fibres of the Shibari rope around your limbs, Din prolongs both of your anticipation through adept fingers akin to wizardry. But it's worth it to see the pretty and intricate knots and weaves that leave their patterns indented into your flesh long after he's untied you. And it'll be hours and hours before he does, Mesh'la. With your back to him, he'll subtly push up his helmet to kiss his artistic handiwork and leave deeper marks etched on you still. This is the kinky way.

Marcus Moreno - Suspension.

Marcus loves nothing more than twisting your body into shapes whilst you're suspended in the air, manipulating you into all sorts of heroic poses. Pulling you back onto him as he pummels deep and hard, and you've no way to escape him. You can only float there, suspended in mid air and take what this sweet hero gives when he lets out his dark villainous side to play.

Max Phillips - Humiliation & Degradation.

Max loves the power of claiming his victims; a Vampire's hard-on. But this bloodsucker also loves it when a human gets one up on him and shows him who's the real boss by reducing him to nothing but a naked, quivering pale mess on the floor at your feet to walk all over, spit on or do anything else that you feel he's deserving of. Threaten him with an open window. Sharpen a 2B pencil. Well, he did bite you, babe. Time to get your revenge. Make him crawl naked to the staff room to fetch your lunch then use him as a footstool whilst you eat it. Just don't be surprised later when the dynamic shifts again and Max makes you his lunch. Nom.

Silva - Feet

This handsome Wrangler has travelled a long way to lay at your feet worshipping them. Stroking, nuzzling, kissing; sucking on that big toe you loathe, licking up the arch and groping the ball of your foot. He'll suck on your pinky toes whilst you suck on his cock. He'll be jerking his own gently and lost in the sensations of your intimacy as he fawns over your feet. Silva's in pedi heaven. Lord knows he'll need one himself after wearing them boots all that way, mind.

Comandante Veracruz - Voyeurism.

Veracruz has no qualms in fucking you infront of his men, claiming you and reminding you all that you're his plaything that he's kept hostage. Or instructing and watching his men take turns to fuck you when you misbehave whilst he lays back on the cot, dick in hand and blowing up. Both are equally pleasing scenarios to the eye for the Comandante. And the Comandante always gets what he wants.

Maxwell Lord - Electrostimulation

Attach the clamps on his nipples, on his balls and then charge up the juice and watch this man squeal and grunt like a Red Wattle hog. He also likes a shock wand when he's been a very bad man. And Maxwell is in dire need of a whole lotta punishment, considering he tried to take over the world. Charge him up like a battery and watch the sparks shoot out of the end of his cock. Better than fireworks.

Javi Gutierrez - Furries

I mean, sweet Javi G dressed up in an oversized, fuzzy teddy bear suit and pawing at you? I'll just leave you with that image to do with as you wish…

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elfqueen006 · 5 months

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Hide And Seek

Sunny Day Jack x Reader

a drabble i came up with on the fly. first person pov. suggestive.

---

It was only supposed to be a game of hide and seek.

“Sunshine.” He calls out my name in a coo. I hear him shuffling around. Moving objects and pacing the house with his large clown shoes. I’m quiet as a mouse all the while, huddled in my closet. I’m surprised it isn’t the first place he looks, inside my room. But the pros and cons of this hiding spot was that it was too obvious, so it’d either be the first place you looked, or the last.

I expected Jack to go with the first place. He was a bit of a strategist when he played games, and also a bit competitive, if anything. And when he got in the zone, he became determined.

I hear more shuffling, “Are you in… here?” I flinch at the distant sound of a door swinging open, clasping my hands over my mouth. The door slams shut harshly. “Drat…”

I stifle a giggle. He sounds like a cartoon villain.

A pause. More shuffling. A creak in the door of the spare room. Ian’s old room. There’s more shuffling, then a clatter. I think I hear something like angry sputtering. I feel a cold sweat coming on. Jack is rarely ever - if at all - upset or angry. He’s been disappointed, and I hate whenever he was like that, especially with me. But he almost never showed signs of abrasiveness towards anyone. It might be funny if I could see his face, but the muttering along with hectic shuffling gives an added tension to this once fun game.

“Sunshine. Where are you?” He demands. There’s a bite in his voice I don’t expect. I involuntarily squeak.

Another pause. Then heavy but sure footfalls approach my room.

“...Sunshine?”

I gulp. This man… he can’t have known where I was by a little sound, right?

I keep quiet, pursing my lips shut. I can’t stop the heavy breathing through my nose though; my heart races as Jack paces around the room.

I see his hulking figure through the closet blinds. At times I’m only mildly annoyed at our vast height difference, but from the position I’m in now, I’m flustered – in a state of unease. Like I don’t want him to find me not just for the game’s sake, but for a sort of primal instinct of self preservation.

The next thing Jack does astounds me. He rubs his hands together, rolls his shoulders and lifts up my bed. A low growl escapes him when I’m not there, and he drops it unceremoniously.

“Fuck.” I breathed.

The silhouette of technicolor fwips in my direction and stomps over to the closet before the doors swing open.

Jack looks so… different from this angle. Almost terrifying. His usually easygoing grin is strained and feral on his face. His eyes stare down at me with a crazed intensity.

“I found you.” He said it as if I were really lost. Like he’d been searching for a year before finding me hiding in uncharted territory.

I laughed weakly, “Yep. Let’s um… do another round! You’re it now.”

“No. No…” Jack lifts me off the ground, pulling me to my now disheveled bed. My nightstand lamp is still on, and in the light I can see Jack’s cheeks are flushed. I’m about to ask him if he’s okay, or if he could slow down, but it dies on my tongue; the muscle is like lead – heavy in my mouth, thus I can’t make a sound.

Though I let a soft moan out when Jack kisses my neck.

“You’re too good at this game.” He muttered on my skin. He kisses up to the lobe of my ear before turning to whisper in it, “I have another game in mind, though.”

Lightly, he pushes me on my back, undoing my pants with a wide grin on his face, “I call it, hide the pierrot!”

#somethings wrong with sunny day jack #sunny day jack fanfiction #sunny day jack x reader #sunny day jack x mc #sdj x reader #sdj x you #sunny day jack #my fics

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brujahinaskirt · 9 months

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You know, when it really comes down to it, the main thing that tears me to pieces about Arthur & John is encapsulated so nicely in the trope of the Lonesome Cowboy.

RDR2's storytelling is particularly masterful as it shows us that everyone is the mythic Lonesome Cowboy... but at the same time, I believe it manages to quietly suggest there is one true Lonesome Cowboy of the series.

And it ain't Arthur Morgan.

DEEPLY overwritten explanation below!

On the surface, Arthur is clearly set up by RDR2 to be our Lonesome Cowboy. He even sings the song. But is he really? Really, truly? Or is Arthur's brand of lonesomeness a clever model to help us, through comparison and contrast, begin to notice and understand another, deeper type of loneliness?

Arthur thinks he's unlovable and alone because he lacks one specific type of love, romantic domesticity, which he has dreamed throughout his life and consistently been denied. But though his pain is genuine, the idea that Arthur is alone and unloved is almost laughable. R* shows us every single game day that Arthur is surrounded by people who love him, live with him, and depend upon him.

But that's the great irony of the RDR Lonesome Cowboy, right? Arthur feels lonely and believes he is alone because he is a "bad man" and nonbeliever whom "no one will have" (not even God, and he remains true to his atheism through the bitter end [and thank god for that honestly because the last thing I needed was a Come to Jesus cowboy game...]).

But the inverse is true, and his depression is lying to him; Arthur is almost never alone and pretty much everyone in his family unit actively enjoys his company and wants him around. And yes, many of these people are damaged and have trouble communicating that (though fewer than you'd think). And no, it isn't the same as getting married to one person and raising a family with them for the rest of your life. But lonesome? As in, emotionally and/or physically alone?

Nah! Come on, man! Not even close.

Arthur is more than just loved and needed: he's actually understood by those he chooses to let in, because Arthur is definitely capable of telling his closest confidants how he feels and what is lurking in his heart. We see him do this many times. Sometimes with surprising ease and honesty.

When Arthur is physically alone in RDR2, he's wandering at the player's command, and if he wanders for too long, he's eventually retrieved & lambasted by the people at camp who quite openly/forcefully tell him they missed him and worried about him. Even Low Honor Arthur is a popular man at camp, in his own way, the support beam of his strange family (though LH Arthur is more likely to selectively deny that support, or to provide that support with the caveat of verbal cruelty).

A messy run-down of some obvious examples to illustrate my point:

Despite Dutch's deterioration and manipulations, Dutch and Hosea openly dote on him and relish telling embarrassing family stories about their Big Man Old Guard son to each other. Hosea especially frets about and tries to care for Arthur, mostly physically but sometimes emotionally as well. Susan can be abrasive at best, but she also clearly favors Arthur, thinks often about his well-being, and is one of the primary worriers when he's away from camp for too long.

Abigail and Jack completely rely on Arthur for a significant period of their lives, and though Abigail struggles greatly with showing affection & vulnerability, I would argue her primary and most extraordinary mode of care and affection for Arthur is allowing him to help her raise her son. Sure, she needs the help... but Arthur needs the nuclear family experience of being heavily relied on, too, and Abigail makes it clear she understands that about him better than anybody else. (I'd go on to argue that being relied on in a family way is essential for Arthur's self-esteem and is how he can continue to function despite the massive clash between his true nature and his violent lifestyle, for which he constantly berates himself. But that's neither here nor there...)

The Girls (Tilly, Mary-Beth, Karen) actively worry about his mental health and invite him to share his burdens with them, comfort him (each in their own unique way), play games, dance, etc. They do this for Arthur we don't see them do for anyone else in camp (apart from each other, which leads me to believe Arthur is sort of an honorary member of The Girls, though I won't get too much into that here).

Sadie: "Aside from my [BELOVED HUSBAND AND SOUL MATE] Jake, you're the best man I've known."

Though Arthur seems more likely to trust & befriend women/non-masc men, he has masc men friends & confidants too, and most of the men at camp seem to rank Arthur as somehow more reliable than other members. Charles very obviously loves Arthur & vice versa to the point where I tried to pick one demonstrative example and couldn't figure out where to begin. Uncle is a pain in Arthur's ass, but when shit hits the fan, he knows (and tells him) that Arthur is the best man of them all. Lenny, while young, enjoys Arthur's company (though I would argue Arthur feels more strongly about Lenny than the inverse due to Arthur's tendency to protectively fuss over young people). Hell, Sean constantly tells Arthur, word for word, "I love ya, Arthur Morgan!!! I really do!!! I love ya!!!!" He's being goofy, but he's not joking! He said that!

And that's just a surface-level sampling of gang members. These threads run much, much deeper and we could spend essays analyzing each one, but my god this has gone on too long already.

One could argue that Arthur's story aloneness is at the moment of his death, but I can't quite agree. With Save John + High Honor Arthur path especially, I would argue Arthur has never been less emotionally (even spiritually) alone than when he chose to change the very nature of his death from a random consequence of his hard life to an act of love that gives his surviving core family (John, Abigail, Jack) a chance at happiness. In less peaceful endgame scenarios, Arthur might not actually die alone, or even have time to linger on his approaching departure from the world.

So I posit that Arthur is not, was never the Lonesome Cowboy. Arthur is loved as much as he loves others.

I posit that the true Lonesome Cowboy of RDR is John.

John Marston, who on the surface has everything Arthur ever wanted... but who, due to the nature of his heart and what he's seen, cannot bring himself to fully open up in a way that enables him to be truly understood and embraced by anyone, not even the person he comes to love most in the world (Abigail). There's a reason the epilogue feels so shocking and lonely, and while I do think Rockstar could have done a better job on the transitional cinematics from playing as Arthur to playing as John, that crushing loneliness and sense of discomfort and incompleteness is vital.

It feels awful. It feels like we just lost a limb and were thrown back into everyday life with no fanfare, no true honorable sendoff, no closure, no greater understanding of the world, no peace or contentment. And it feels that way because that discordant, jarring dis-allowance of grief is the ONLY mechanism that helps us feel how John must feel now. Because unlike Arthur, John cannot express or unfold or understand his own pain and loneliness. Not to us, the player, and not even to himself. He never grieves.

Of course, when Sadie and Micah drift back into his life, John snaps. He's never grieved! He's been emotionally alone through all of that, even when he has his family and friends, because he can't open up and let them in! He risks destroying his family in a way that would have undoubtedly caused Arthur extreme horror and anger because John's family is not and has never been a cure for John's loneliness, even though John truly loves them more than anything at the end.

John can't express it, so it's these lyrics themselves that serve as the fount of his grief: I ain't got no brother. No wonder Abigail has her own quiet epilogue rendition of this song (and she, too, is a profoundly Lonesome Cowboy in her way, just like Karen, Hosea, Javier, Jack, etc....). Once Arthur is gone from the world, so too is the only person who knew this deeply damaged kid well enough from his wild childhood to really even hope to see into John's heart.

tl;dr: Arthur thinks he's the legendary Lonesome Cowboy, but he's not. He's just lonely, not alone. In reality, the character who is fundamentally alone, truly lonesome, has always been John.

#rdr2 #red dead redemption #john marston #arthur morgan #redmeta #long long long long post

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degendog · 2 months

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I would love to learn what it means to be a real man

trying to do it alone can be tough and it's so much easier when you just have to do as your told

for starters, seeking out advice on becoming a real man is a solid first step. that shit takes some serious balls. you’ve already started.

becoming a man is about gaining confidence in yourself. don’t make yourself smaller, don’t try to take up less space. be as unapologetically yourself as you want. cis people, and even some fellow trans people, won’t be comfortable with you being confident and secure in yourself, but fuck em. you exist for yourself, not anyone else.

becoming a man is also about presenting in a way that makes you feel powerful and enhances that confidence. if you haven’t tried wearing men’s clothes, get a couple things from a thrift store or hand-me-downs from a friend. try them on, wear them to a store. get a pack of boxers briefs and pin a rolled up sock to the front pouch. that’s your dick now—wear it as much as you can, even outside of boymode.

if you’ve already done all that, make sure the clothes you wear fit your personal style, whatever that may be. punk? jock? guy that works at geek squad? make sure the outside matches the inside.

start manspreading in public. sit with your legs shoulder width apart. it’ll be easier if you’re packing. it’ll be even easier when you start t—you’d be too sensitive to do anything else.

stop giving a shit about your height if you’re below the male average. tons of short guys exist and are hot as fuck because they own it. josh hutcherson is like 5’5 and tons of people think he’s sexy. part of that is because he doesn’t come off as insecure.

apologize less. be polite to people that deserve it, but don’t be subservient. dont apologize for asking questions, don’t apologize for correcting someone, don’t apologize for existing. don’t be afraid to be a bit abrasive, even.

try out more masculine hobbies. you don’t have to abandon any “girly” hobbies you may have—it’s 2024, men can knit. try out woodworking or shooting or fishing or computer building or working on cars or even growing chili peppers. ask your male friends what they do for fun and try it out for yourself. if you have a good relationship with your dad or any other male family member, ask him to teach you. if you don’t have someone irl to teach you something, pick a hobby you’ve always wanted to try out but were too scared to, and watch youtube videos on it. even if you don’t end up loving it, you’ve stepped out of your comfort zone, which is a big accomplishment in itself, and you might’ve even had a nice bonding experience with someone.

look into how to get t, and then do it, if you haven’t already. find a trans clinic in your area, go to planned parenthood if you’re in the states, hell even do diy if you need to. if you’re in an area where it’s unsafe to start t—especially florida jfc—work your ass off to get out of there as soon as possible.

start jacking off and fucking more like a man. stroke your dick instead of rubbing your clit. get a strap on and jerk that off. repeat, “i’m a man” to yourself on every stroke. try pumping your dick. picture yourself topping. actually top. experience your sexuality as something beyond cis society’s expectations for a “woman”—because you never were a woman, so why should you fuck like one?

if you’re scared to do something that’ll help yourself transition, ask yourself “why does this scare me?” and decide if your fears are as big as they seem. many things that seem daunting about transitioning aren’t actually bad, and sometimes end up being fucking awesome.

it’s not going to be easy and it’s definitely not going to be easier than “staying” a woman, but becoming the man you were always meant to be is the best thing you can do for yourself. being able to look in the mirror and like what looks back at you is the greatest feeling in the world. i hope you get there.

#mail #if there’s anything you want specific advice on my ask box is open #you got this man #forcemasc #autoandrophilia #force masc #greatest hits

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vanwritesfan-fiction · 10 months

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Ruin the Friendship

“Okay, last thing. We only do this once. No friends with benefits. You’re just doing me a favor, like when you helped me change my tire that one time.”

Word Count: 4.1K

Listening To: Ruin The Friendship- Demi Lovato

Warnings: smut, language, as always, DNI if under 18

A/N: I won't lie, this is a horny mess, but I missed writing smutty Jack fics a lot 😂😂

“I need to ask you a question.”

Jack looked up from his phone, the bright backlight of the screen illuminating his face. “What’s up?”

“You can’t say no.” You avoided eye contact, fiddling with the hem of your t-shirt. The seam felt abrasive against your skin. He sat his phone down on the coffee table, giving you his full attention. You finally looked up at him after what felt like an eternity, taking in his face. The chestnut curls on his head were tighter than usual, meaning he hadn’t been worried at all today. His hair became a frizzy mess when he ran his fingers through the coils, his tell that he was uncomfortable. His eyebrows were furrowed with unease, peaking up to meet at the middle of his face. You found it endearing how much he cared for your wellbeing, immediately concerned that something was wrong with you. And those eyes; those piercing ocean-blue eyes that you felt like you could fall into every time you held his gaze for longer than a second. They had almost gotten you in trouble more than once, the words daring to escape from your lips anytime the two of you were alone. You felt your stomach turn, the thought of possibly ruining your life-long friendship with your proposition enough to make you back out.

“Y/N, what is it? What can’t I say no to?” You cleared your throat, adjusting in your seat. “Sorry, I shouldn’t have said it like that, of course you can say no.”

“To what? You haven’t even asked me a question yet.” His voice was an octave higher, his patience wearing thin. He placed a hand on your thigh, a seemingly innocent gesture to indicate that he cared, but his touch burned your skin, sending a tingling sensation down to your toes. Your eyes trailed from his perfectly manicured nails, up to his forearm, the hairs sticking up mirroring your own. You shut your mouth quickly, stopping the drool that was forming in your mouth at the sight of his toned bicep muscles, each contour visible underneath his thin t-shirt. You wanted to touch him, graze your fingers against his skin, mold your touch against his chest, truly feel him for the first time, in a way that friends never dare to. You had imagined his bare body against yours many a times, mostly in your dreams, sometimes in a passing glance, but the thought of crossing that proverbial line tonight had you downright giddy.

Jack squeezed your thigh, jogging you out of your daze. You felt your cheeks flush red, the heat rising from your chest to your face, embarrassed that you had allowed your imagination to run wild in front of him.

“Y/N, you’re scaring me. What’s going on?” You felt a rush of pride wash over you, quickly standing up and gathering the few Styrofoam containers that once held some disappointing Chinese food within them from the coffee table. “Never mind. Just ignore me.” A small smile formed on your lips, hoping it was enough to convince him to drop the topic. You didn’t bother to look back at him as you shuffled away. You had a second alone in the kitchen to breathe, a rush of air leaving your mouth, before you heard his heavy footsteps following behind you. Jack watched you move about the kitchen from the doorway. “What is going on?” His tone was even, his words a simple question, but you felt scrutinized, interrogated even. You continued with your chores, ignoring his question as if you hadn’t heard it.

“Y/N, look at me.” You turned slowly on your heels, leaning against the counter. Jack walked over to where you stood, taking the spot opposite you. “Speak.”

“I-uh, want to have sex.” Your words were barely a whisper, but Jack heard you loud and clear.

“Ok, that’s not really a question, but I’m sure you could find someone to take care of that for you.” Jack chuckled, the thought of being a wingman for his best friend never having crossed his mind. It wasn’t really something the two of you had talked about, both agreeing to keep your dating life out of the friendship. “Aren’t you seeing that guy from your gym? What’s his name? Harold?” He snapped his fingers, attempting to jog his memory.

“Henry, his name is Henry.” You rolled your eyes, realizing you weren’t clear enough.

“Yeah, Henry, or whatever. He’s got to be single. The guy was the biggest prick I’ve ever met, but he might be good for a hookup.”

“I don’t want to have sex with Henry.” You held up a hand, hoping to stop that idea in its tracks. There was no way you were hooking up with Henry; he was also the biggest prick that you had ever met.

“Well, my friends are off limits. We created that boundary years ago after the whole Sunni disaster.” Jack shuddered. You sighed, turning your back to him, the sink full of dishes suddenly the most interesting thing you had ever laid eyes on.

“Jack.” You took another deep breath, realizing it was now or never. “I want to hookup…with you.”

It took a second for the words to register in Jack’s brain. “Huh?” was the only word that left his mouth. You turned to look at him again, wincing at the stunned look on his face.

“Jack, look, forget I ever said anything. It’s just been such a long time, and I really need to get laid. Ugh, I hate how that sounds, but I’ve never been one to just hook up with anyone, and I’d rather do it with someone that I know that cares for me, and you immediately came to mind. And it would just be sex, I’m not expecting anything else from you, but of course if you think its too much or it will ruin our friendship, then please say no.”

You leaned back with a huff, taking a breath for the first time since your word vomit had finally stopped. You could see the cogs turning in his brain, wires crossing, steam coming from his ears, everything that signaled he was actually considering your proposal.

“Jack, say something. Please.” Your heart was beating out of your chest, anticipating him to turn you down.

“We need to set some ground rules.”

“What?” He looked up at you, the calm finally setting in his mind. “We need to set some ground rules”, he repeated, holding your gaze.

“Are you saying yes?”

“I think so?” He ran his fingers through his hair; you had finally broken his day of peace.

“Jack, please think this through. You can say no.”

“I have thought it through. I’m saying yes, with some ground rules. First, we don’t tell anyone about this. Our friends would have a field day with this information.”

You let out a humorless breath, nodding your head in agreement. “Yeah, they always thought we’d end up here, no need to give them the satisfaction of knowing they were right. Second, no degrading. Don’t call me a bitch, or whore, I don’t like any of that.” You shook your head again, this time to indicate that you weren’t going to tolerate being insulted.

“Fine, I’m not into that anyway.”

“What are you into? In the bedroom I mean?” You shrugged your shoulders nonchalantly as if you were asking him his favorite color.

“I’m into the sex, Y/N. Everything else just happens.” You rolled your eyes, intending to push him further. “I mean, are you vocal? Do you like when the girl is vocal? How much foreplay do you like?”

“Well, the girl is always loud, I just have that effect on them.” You could see the smirk sliding onto his face, his ego getting a temporary boost as he thought about his past conquests.

“Haven’t you dated a lot of actresses?”

“I don’t see how those two things are related.” Jack moved on, not understanding your dig.

“Okay, third, don’t say anything you don’t mean. No heat-of-the-moment bullshit that we won’t be able to take back.” This was a reminder more to yourself than him, but it still felt important to mention out loud.

“Agreed.”

“Okay, last thing. We only do this once. No friends with benefits. You’re just doing me a favor, like when you helped me change my tire that one time.”

“Just a friend doing a friend for a favor.” Jack couldn’t help but laugh at his own joke, but you weren’t so easily amused. “Y/N, would you please just relax. Sex is supposed to be fun. We can’t do this if you’re going to take it so seriously.”

“I can be fun! I am fun!” You tapped your fingers against the marble countertop, your nails the only sound in the awkward silence.

“I’m not really sure-“. You weren’t able to finish your sentence before Jack closed the distance between you two, your lips crashing into a heavy and passionate kiss. His lips felt soft, softer than you were expecting, his tongue running along the seam of your lip as he forced his way into your mouth. You opened for him completely, in more ways than one. Your hands found the curls at the nape of his neck, your fingers raking through and pulling at the hair, making him groan into your mouth. He grabbed the back of your neck in retaliation, forcing your head back, breaking the seal your lips had created.

“What the hell was that?”, you asked, breathless, your eyes still focused on his red and swollen lips.

“You talk too much.” He responded, grinning.

With one swift movement he picked you up behind the thighs, your ankles wrapping around his waist as he carried you to the bedroom. He gently laid you on the bed, your legs still wrapped around him forcing him to kneel into the mattress. “That desperate, huh?” Your nipples hardened at the thought of him finally touching you after years of anticipation, and Jack noticed immediately. “Tell me how much you need it.” His eyes darkened, his voice deeper and more commanding than you had ever heard before. Your core twitched subconsciously. You remained silent, pulling him into you even tighter, feeling his hardened bulge against your covered pussy. You ground your hips against his pubic bone, his cock providing enough friction to begin to build your orgasm. “Does that answer your question?”

He leaned down to pull you into another kiss, this one hungrier and more demanding than the ones before. It was his way of saying he was in control, and you needed to submit to him if you wanted this night to end your way. His hand slid up your throat, gripping with the gentlest of pressure, just enough to drive you wild. He was still testing the waters, seeing what you were willing to put up with.

“Tell me how much you need it.”

“We promised we wouldn’t say things we don’t mean.” You returned his cocky grin from earlier, your body betraying you as you writhed beneath him. You weren’t sure how much longer you were going to be able to keep up the façade, your wetness drenching your panties. He caught your glance as you looked down at your crotch. “Fine, if you won’t say it, you’ll show it.” He backed off the bed, kneeling as he pulled you by the thighs toward him. He gave each of your inner thighs a gentle kiss, making you shiver. He rolled a finger against your clothed pussy, watching as you squirmed, the sensation too much on your sensitive bud. He was enjoying watching your body beg, even if you never said a word to him. “Take them off.” You whined out, quickly giving in. “What, these?” He toyed with the waistband, his fingers grazing along your lower stomach. “Ask nicely.”

“Please Jack, take them off.” Satisfied with your ask, he slid your panties down, allowing them to dangle off one ankle. You shook them off immediately, opening your legs to him. “You’re so wet, are you gonna be a good girl for me?” You quickly learned that while he wasn’t into degradation, he got off on praise. You were going to use that against him when you could finally think straight again. You nodded your head, shutting your eyes tight as he drug a finger from your entrance up to your clit, his calloused digit covering the entire bud. He quickly switched out for his tongue, latching on as he slid two fingers into you, the hooking motion as he thrusted in and out hitting your g-spot each time. “Oh my god, Jack.” Your hands found his hair, guiding him to where you wanted his mouth to go. “Don’t stop, I’m already close.” You were finally going to get something you had desperately needed for so long, your nerves tingling in anticipation. Jack gave your clit two final licks before he sat up, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

“What are you doing? I was almost there.”

He reached over to the nightstand, rummaging through your personal belongings. “What do we have here?”, Jack asked in a singsong tone, pulling out your rose shaped vibrator. “What are you doing? Put that down.” He rotated the toy in his hand, inspecting it. “Can you not rifle through my things, please?”

“I was looking for a condom.” He found the power button, jumping when the silicone flower vibrated. “Can you please stop?” You grabbed it out of his hand, throwing it back in the drawer with a thud. You could feel your face blushing again, unable to hide your embarrassment that he had found your private stash. “What are you so embarrassed about? I just ate you out and I’m about to be deep inside of you, me finding your vibrator is the least of your problems right now.”

“Oh my god, will you please shut up?” You hid your face in the crook of your arm.

“Y/N, will you please just try to enjoy yourself? It’s no big deal. Do you have a condom?”

“No, why don’t you have one?”

“Well, when you invited me over tonight, I didn’t expect to end up here. I came unprepared, I guess.” Jack shrugged, rubbing his eyes.

“I thought guys always kept a condom in their wallet, “just in case”.

“I haven’t been seeing anyone for a while.” His tone indicated that he didn’t want you to ask any other questions.

“We don’t need a condom, I’m on birth control.” Your response was covered in desperation , growing more and more impatient by the minute.

Jack laughed as he looked down at you. You were already a mess, it was so easy to turn you on. He honestly thought it was going to be more of a challenge. “I thought I’d have to work harder.” You sat up on your elbows, closing your legs. “What is that supposed to mean?” Jack shrugged as he slipped his t-shirt off over his head, tossing it onto the floor. “I dunno, out there, you’re just so tightly wound, everything bothers you. It’s like you have a stick up your ass.” He moved to hover over you, but you pushed him away with your foot. “Ow!” He rubbed his chest. “That’s going to leave a bruise.”

“I don’t have a stick up my ass, you’re just always pissing me off. I have real things to worry about.” Jack put his hands up in surrender. “Look, I’m sorry I brought it up, I didn’t mean to make you upset. Can I continue?” You opened your legs again, allowing him to move above you, resting his head on your stomach. “All I was trying to say was that, in here, you’re so much more relaxed. I thought it would be a lot harder to get you off. It’s a compliment.” Your body unclenched, your muscles relaxing at his reassuring words.

“I’m sorry, I’m just in my head so much about this whole thing. Did I ruin the moment?” He placed a couple of gentle kisses on your stomach, his nose grazing your breast as he looked up at you. “This is all about you, you’d have to ask yourself that.”

“Oh, please, this is just as much about you as it is about me. I felt how hard you were back in the kitchen, don’t pretend like you don’t want this.”

“It doesn’t take much for me to get hard, I really can’t control it.” You weren’t falling for it.

“Oh, so you haven’t thought about fucking me. Making my legs shake with orgasm after orgasm that only you could give me?”

“Honestly, not really.”

“I don’t believe you.”

“Ok, that doesn’t change anything.”

“Fine. Get up.” You moved away from him, shuffling up to sit against the headboard. Jack pouted as you forced him away. “What are you doing? We’re not done.”

“I’m not, but you are. Sit.” You pointed at the white boucle chair you had in the corner, a resting place for weeks of laundry when you couldn’t be bothered to fold any of it. Jack pushed the piles of clothing on the floor, sitting down, his elbows rested on his thighs. “Take your pants off.” Jack complied, making his displeasure known with a loud huff.

“What do you think you’re doing?” He sat back down, his bare ass against the rough fabric. “I’m proving a point. You say you’ve never thought about fucking me, never thought about touching me, seeing me cum underneath you. Then you should be able to resist me, no problem.”

“Fine.” Jack shrugged, running his hand along the edge of his beard. “Do your worst.”

You opened your legs, running your hands up and down your inner thighs. “You sure you don’t want this?” you teased, watching Jack shift in his seat, visibly uncomfortable. He simply flipped you off, earning a curt laugh from you. You put two fingers in your mouth, lubing them up, dragging out the tease before you finally pulled them out again with a pop of your lips. “Ok, now you’re just stalling. Whatever you’re gonna do, just do it.” Jack leaned back on the chair, draping his arms over the sides. He was attempting to maintain his composure, edging you on. Not one to back down from a challenge, you forwent any additional foreplay, sliding those same two fingers into your throbbing pussy, letting out a loud moan as you thrusted them in and out. You were already close after a few seconds, your body desperately trying to hold onto the orgasm Jack had denied you a few minutes earlier. “Oh, fuck! This feels so fucking good.” Your eyes closed again, this time out of pure pleasure, your core tightening as you brought yourself to the edge. You didn’t stop as you felt the mattress dip below you, your eyes slowly opening to see Jack back on the bed, not lasting more than two minutes. “Fuck, I want to be the one to make you scream.”

“Don’t say things you don’t mean. Remember our ground rules.” You looked into his eyes, your core clenching around your fingers. You wanted to believe his words, even if they weren’t true. “I would never lie to you, ground rules or not.” Jack watched as you came around your fingers, your orgasm face the prettiest he’d ever seen. “Fuck, you look so beautiful”, he whispered, his fingers ghosting over your body as you came down from your high. He pulled your fingers out of you, putting them into his mouth, taking the time to lick each clean, never breaking eye contact. “You taste amazing.”

You were at your wits end. “Just fuck me already.”

He teased your entrance, the tip of his cock entering just barely so you could get a taste of what’s to come. “Oh, shit.” The words left your mouth without much thought; you had never experienced a stretch like that with any of your previous lovers. Jack gave you time to adjust as he entered you halfway, moving your hips down against him to take all of his length. You let out a load moan, the fullness almost too much.

“Are you okay?”, he checked in, starting to thrust his hips in and out when you nodded. You quickly adjusted to his size, each moan representing a wave of pleasure as he hit against your cervix with each thrust. “Faster”, you edged out, grabbing onto his shoulders to steady yourself. “Is this good?” His pace was quickly sending you over the edge. “Yes, don’t stop.” He wrapped your legs around his waist, reaching over you to grab your vibrator. You didn’t even notice at first, your eyes rolling back into your head as you got close to your peak. The first touch of vibration made your back arch, your eyes shooting open when you realized what he was doing. “Shit, please don’t stop.” You whined out, begging for him to finally make you orgasm after what felt like forever.

Jack felt you clench down around him, the squelching of your wetness audible with each thrust in and out. “Let go, I’ve got you.” Jack encouraged you as you orgasmed, the release making your legs shake from fatigue. He slowed his pace, but you tightened your legs around him again, keeping him from pulling out.

“Don’t stop.”

“You sure you don’t want a break?” He grabbed each of your thighs, your legs still shaking. “I’m sure.”

His hips set a rough tempo one more time, each hit of his pelvis against your swollen clit threatening to make you cum again in seconds. “Oh, fuck, that feels so good.” Jack’s breaths were ragged, his words deep and gruff.

“I’m close to cuming again, are you close?” Jack just nodded, trying to stay focused. He moved your legs, so they were balancing on his shoulders, forcing your legs straight. “Fuck, you’re so fucking tight. You feel so good, Y/N.” His praise was enough to make you come for the third time that night, your whole body shaking in ecstasy. Jack was right behind you, his warm cum filling you up. You could feel it run out of you as he pulled out slowly, making you shiver.

“Fuck, I came a lot.” Jack chuckled, watching his release dribble out of you. “Don’t move.”

He got up and walked to the bathroom, returning with a warm wet towel to help you clean up. “Do you do this for all of the girls you sleep with?”, you asked as he wiped between your thighs, turning to clean himself up as well. “Yes, why do you ask?”

“You just never seemed like the aftercare gentleman to me. More of a hit-it-and-quit-it type guy.”

“Ouch!” He placed a hand over his heart sarcastically, giving you a face. “Is this how you repay the friend who just gave you the best sex you’ve ever had in your life?”

“Wow, aren’t we full of ourselves!” You got up from the bed, pulling out an old t-shirt from your drawer and slipping it on as you watched Jack get dressed in his t-shirt and boxers.

“Just admit it. At least top three, right?” You couldn’t help but grin, blaming it on the post sex endorphins coursing through your veins. “You’re definitely up there.” You shook your head, plopping yourself back down on the bed. Jack laid on his side, his fingers tracing the outline of your arm.

“Seriously, thank you, for being a good friend.”

Jack couldn’t help but chuckle, not sure what to say next. No matter what either of you told yourselves, this is not something that friends did.

You both sat in silence, your euphoric state quickly replaced by worry and regret. Jack could see it plastered on your face. He sat up quickly, taking your face into his hands. “Hey, look at me. This changes nothing. We’re still friends, I still love you.”

“I know. I’m good, I promise.” You stroked his knuckles.

“Good.” Jack nodded, trying to convince himself that he hadn’t just fucked up the greatest life-long friendship he’d ever had.

“Jack?”

“Yes, babe?”

“Do you mind if we just lay together for a while?” You ran your hands against the sheets.

“Of course.” You laid down, your back against Jack, feeling the rise and fall of his chest with each breath. “Promise me we didn’t ruin our friendship?” You couldn’t help but feel guilty, like you had tricked Jack into sleeping with you. Jack placed a kiss in your hair, pulling you in closer by the waist. “I promise you, nothing’s going to change.” He held you until you fell asleep, your breathing shallow and small snores escaping your lips. Jack laid awake for the rest of the night, not able to sleep as the thoughts of that evening ran through his mind.

Fuck, he thought to himself, tonight definitely ruined your friendship.

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