#invisible pearl

[onlylonelylatino]

Plastic Man parody, Elastic Man, meets the Fantastic Four parody, the Fantastic Fear by Gil Kane

[goryhorroor]

“Look close enough and you'll see inside my soul.”

[mister-celery]

happy monday

[oatm3al-c00kies]

if everlark is taylor swift-coded, odesta is so mitski-coded

[cafenervosa]

🎃 Highlights from Drawlloween 2023 🎃

DRACULA'S DAUGHTER (1936) | THE INVISIBLE MAN (2020) THE OLD DARK HOUSE (1932) | THE UNINVITED (1944) THE BIRDS (1963) | THE BROOD (1979) PEARL (2022) | THE BLACK PHONE (2021) SPELLBOUND (1945) | I MARRIED A WITCH (1942)

See the rest on my Instagram! ID in alt text.

[smtown-tourist]

Ever since Taemin came out with his own lightstick, I’ve been fantasizing about what the other SHINee members’ lightsticks would look like 🤔💎

[withlovebinnie]

Something about a pearl

The story behind Irene's pearl necklace!

I like to think Kai got it for her sometime between The Lost Plot and The Mortal World. It was supposed to be something to enhance their disguises, but he always meant for it to be a gift, and Irene never got rid of it. I mean, how could she? It was a gift from Kai

[reniadeb]

[bjorkshire-pudding]

Now Microsoft Word, you know good and damn well I have typed the word Geto enough times for you to know it. Please don't disrespect me by autocorrecting it to Ghetto

[rebloggingrexan]

#im so sorry this made me think about black hat

i actually dont think dating a vampire would be fun imagine dating someone 200 years older than you like what do you talk about... steam engines

[loptrcoptr]

I’m glad people are talking about this on good ol tumblr dot com, because I swear I only took a hiatus from this site for half a year, after a solid decade or so of daily tumblr use, and in that time I can already see an enormous change in attitudes toward shipping/fandom/interests in general that kind of worry me. So for those of yall who are young or maybe not so set in your ways…

your interests are your own and you don’t owe anyone shit. That includes explaining yourself for posting about your interests. No, no, babe. It’s your blog, it’s your rules, you do what you want.

You can’t judge a person by their tastes. Not just “don’t judge”, I’m saying you fully cannot. You can tell a lot about a person, sure, but you can’t know entirely what they are like and what their “morals” are based on the media they consume or things they are into. has a friend or partner ever told you about something they did in bed and you were like “wow idk if I would do that”. Did you immediately decide it made them a bad person and server ties?? No. That’s not how life works.

To be “interested” is not automatically to condone, and you can be fascinated with something without agreeing with anything about it. That girl on your bus who listens to serial killer podcasts and reads murderer autobiographies is not the same as a serial killer. One kills people, and the other is fascinated by it. it’s okay to inform yourself about taboo things because the taboo is inherently intriguing. The point is that you’re not out there breaking the social agreement and doing Bad Stuff. It’s kind of like saying anyone who’s into rape fantasy is inherently a rapist and that the existence of the subject is an afront to rape victims. But I gotta tell you, as a rape victim: go off queen, that’s your business. My lived experience is not relevant to your fantasy. No one’s is.

And for the love of all the gods I am begging you: there is no hierarchy of queer shipping that is more or less gay, makes you more or less gay for enjoying it, or makes you a disrespecter of the internet lgbtqiap2s+ community at large for enjoying it. I have seen so much of this type of shit in the last few months, and it genuinely frightens me. Sure, ship wars and anon hate and all that crap have always been a thing in fandom. However, this escalation into some kind of Queer Ship Pyramid of Objective Goodness is at best, whack, and at worst harmful to people’s self-worth and the next generation of kids coming online and figuring out their sexualities and identities. it used to be you just defined tropes, genders, gender identities, sexualities, and sexual acts in your tags and called it a day and that’s just… that. Now I’m finding this pattern reflected from old school anti-bi, anti-trans spaces; do not ship bi couples, they’re basically straight, even if one is trans, gender fluid, or enbi; shipping two hetero men is really just for basic straight women and is in and of itself an isolating act that ignores the needs of the queer community; ships that don’t include anyone who is trans show you have no imagination and that you are a disrespectful terf on the inside; ships that are monogamous are inherently Not That Gay, regardless of any identities or sexualities therein, because polyamory is the real pinnacle of queer evolution and something every queer person should aspire to. and I want to make it very clear that absolutely none of that is remotely true.

And it worries me that there’s this sliding scale of Nothing Being Gay Enough in fandom now. Like we’ve taken a good thing so far that now people don’t know how to enjoy it and still want that oldie but goodie gay-one-upmanship from the mid 2010s on tumblr: “I’m a better gay than you are, and I know that, because look at your tastes”. And I just hope that teens and folks in their early years of adulthood or early years of discovering their sexualities and identities know that none of that shit is real, and you are gay if you decide you’re gay, and it is not a ladder you have to climb, with monogamy, same sex relationships, and pan and bi identities on the bottom and only-trans cohabitational polyamory on the top. That is not how you support people, and it is not how you support yourself. what you’re saying is “my trans friend isn’t as trans as I am because I have two partners and he is monogamous”; “I’m a lesbian but im a better lesbian than my ex because her girlfriend is cis and mine is a butch demiboy”. This kind of shit is just an extension of the age old “you’re gay, but not that gay, because you’ve only slept with one person of the same sex, and I’ve slept with loads”.

You’re queer because you say you are, and the best way to be a queer ally to others is to not project your own self hatred upward and attempt to win an “uwu more oppresssed than u” battle online. The only person you’re fighting is yourself. It doesn’t make you less poly to read a fic with a monogamous ship. It doesn’t make you less gay to read a fic with a straight ship. It doesn’t make you less trans to read a fic where someone doesn’t have the same headcanon about a trans character as you do. your fandom preferences don’t affect your queer street cred, and it costs you nothing to ignore your friend’s ships instead of convincing yourself you’re better and gayer than they are. All that kind of attitude does is hurt you farther down the road. You’re not what you consume, and fic is for you, not for what you think will somehow make others online think you’re “gayer”.

(Sorry to bandwagon so extensively, op, this topic just concerns the hell out of me)

I really think everyone needs to truly internalize this:

Fictional characters are objects.

They are not people. You cannot "objectify" them, because they have no personhood to be deprived of. They have no humanity to be erased. You cannot "disrespect" them, because they are not real.

[genericminecraftpotato]

So obviously Martyn wasn’t going to win because he just won in Limited Life, but what a way to go that was.

[rainrot4me]

Don’t Close Your Eyes Yet

Summary: From the first moment he laid his eyes on you at the fairgrounds, Jack knew he needed you. So going about it the only way he knew how, he began to give you dreams of him, preparing you for the night he would eventually take you himself.

Characters: Laughing Jack x Female Reader

SMUT WARNING MINORS DNI

TW: Obsession, stalking, somnophilia, non-con, clawing, biting, size difference, vaginal, creampie, cunnilingus, desperation, Jack doesn’t take no for an answer, dream manipulation, kidnapping, begging, Jack is very talkative

Words: 5.2k

A/N: Did I make LJ a yandere accidentally? Yes. Just roll with it lol

To him, he had never seen something more beautiful.

Flashing lights danced across your face, hair whipping as you skipped to the nearest ticket booth with your friends. Loud giggles echoed to his ears, making his painted lips curl into a blushing smile as he watched you become antsy with excitement.

Jack had been rummaging around these fairgrounds for a couple of days, scoping out potential victims coming in to enjoy the seasonal summer event, lurking behind food stalls and blending into the crowd. He was good at that: staying hidden until he wanted to be seen, practically going invisible until the time was right. Humans had such a hard time with noticing things, noticing him, so even standing amongst them, their eyes never glanced at his towering self. It just made it easier to slip kids away from their occupied families, dragging them away with the promise of a game or a prize to be won, only to become giddy with the panic that ensued afterwards, mothers and fathers losing their grip as they scoured for their already deceased child. The clown was here for the fifth night this week, the summer breeze ruffling his feathered costume as he scanned a large group of elementary schoolers rushing towards a ferris wheel, picking his target out of the litter and moving in.

Until he spotted you, elbows wrapped tight around another girl’s right behind the kids, eyes wide as you picked out which rides you wanted to try first. A couple more friends filed in behind you, obnoxiously loud as they tried to impress you, daring each other to try the more frightening ones. Jack grit his teeth, jagged pearls clenching as he rolls his eyes, scoffing at the irritable sound of desperation. Your group pushed passed him, not a single eye batting in his direction as he tried to press through you all, distance gaining between him and the small group of children making their way to another set of rides. He looked down, making sure to avoid bumping any of you as even the tallest of your friends barely reached his chest, his size overbearing as he brushed past you, barely catching your eyes as you stopped.

Jack hesitated, feet planted into the ground as he turned over his shoulder, stunned as your eyes locked with his. At first, he wasn’t sure if you were just looking through him, neck craned in some odd position at something behind his head. But as you smiled awkwardly, nodding your head as a silent hello, Jack froze, eyes wide. You could see him. Before it became awkward, Jack nodded back, watching as you turned back and continued with your friends, all of them completely unaware of the exchange that just took place. There was no fear in your gaze as you glanced back again, smiling sweetly before friends pushed you towards the ticket booth and out of the clown’s sight.

He stood stunned, not knowing what to do but knowing he couldn’t let you slip, couldn’t let you out of his sight. It had felt like ages since someone had noticed him, actually noticed him. He had always chosen when he wanted attention, letting his appearance become visible to onlookers who otherwise wouldn’t have felt his presence at all, giving them a jump of fear at his arrival. But you saw him anyway, despite his invisibility, despite his ability to blend. For some reason, you weren’t afraid of his chilling appearance, brushing him off as another circus carnie and being more polite to him than anyone ever cared. Over the last several years, it had been nothing but screams and pleas, all music to his ears, of course, but some desperate tug on his nonexistent heart jumped at the civility you showed him. He needed more.

Pressing into the shadows of a taller fair ride, Jack watched you closely, the corners of his mouth jumping to a smile every time yours did. The group of kids he was after was long forgotten, intentions focused on following you towards the merry-go-round that sat in the center of the fairgrounds. He quickly followed, slipping through the unattended gates easily and hopping on the ride with you, seated on a plastic horse several rows back. As the ride started up, happy music played loudly as you giggled and slowly teetered up and down, joking with your friends. Your hair danced beautifully in the wind, bright lights and colorful tones dancing in your eyes and across your cheeks, a way that only really Jack could appreciate. 

There was no clear reason as to why you were able to see him when others couldn’t, pushing past his invisibility and meeting his gaze, but he didn’t care. For the rest of the ride and the rest of your time on the grounds, Jack made sure not to catch your attention again, watching you carefully how you interacted, your sweetheart personality pulling him ever-near. He couldn’t stand it, couldn’t focus anywhere else as he watched your group grow tired and begin to head towards the exit, a boy’s arm falling lazily over your shoulders and tugging you into his truck. 

Jack didn’t care as he left groups of potential victims behind, silently following you into the parking lot and hiding in the dark spots that even you couldn’t see him. He didn’t care as he followed you home, abandoning all instincts and mind becoming fogged as he watched you crawl into bed from your window, heart skipping as you curled in. You would be his. You had to be. You didn’t have a choice.

-

You had been unnerved for weeks.

It wasn’t anything serious. No traumatic experience or humiliating incident that kept you up into the late hours of the night, like most girls your age would’ve been. Maybe having to worry about what clothes you were going to wear the next day or who liked you at work would’ve been a much better thing to stay up and think about. No, it was something much more unenjoyable.

These dreams, wild and constant, happen every night at the same time. They would all start the same, you climbing into bed comfortably and snuggling in after a long day, desperate for a relaxing slumber. But then you would doze, senses leaving you in the darkness of your room, almost on the verge of slipping… and then you would hear it. The quiet, subtle echo of carnival music, almost like a music box was winding near your bed. You knew you were asleep, consciousness floating in that weird in-between, but you were somehow still fully aware, still active in your brain even though your body wasn’t. The first time it had happened, you were afraid, and confused if you were experiencing some weird lucid dream or having a seizure, but then it happened again the next night and the next.

After the music wound for what felt like forever, the same merry tune looping in your head, you would eventually see it, the tall figure. He would stay back in the haziness of your mind, in the shadows your brain couldn’t see, but you already knew who it was. 

The clown from the fair, smiling sweetly at you, stark-white face contrasted against the darkness of your dream. He was tall, like had to bend halfway down to reach your eye level tall, his limbs lengthy in comparison. He wore the same costume he did the first night you saw him, black and white striped and decorated with a feathered collar, like a sad recreation of a children’s entertainment piece. You didn’t know why you were seeing him, or why your brain was so focused on him, but it wasn’t like you could do anything to stop it.

The first couple of times, he just stayed at a distance, watching silently as you questioned him, trying to press towards him until you were abruptly awoken and left confused. Eventually, he started getting closer, refusing to speak but at least coming into clear focus, letting you see his painted face and chilling demeanor up close. But the more you talked, the more you questioned why he was here and why you were seeing him, the more eager he got.

The dreams started getting longer, more intense on your physical as you slept, constantly waking covered in sweat. The clown's hands began to roam, your body immovable against his curious claws as he rubbed and poked you all over, smiling at the reactions that came. They were sweet at first, tucking your hair behind your ear or caressing your small hands, but they soon became feisty. The touches grew to rubs, pressing his arms around your smaller body and pushing against your skin, gripping at your clothes and tugging them away, claws so realistically scratching against your warmth. With each dream, the intensity grew, your body waking up in a horny panic to settle itself out, panting against your pillow and trying to recollect yourself. It was boggling, so confused and pent up that you couldn’t do anything but fall right back to sleep, starting the cycle all over again.

Jack watched through every night. He perched in the corner of your room, lips curling to a smile with every flinch and tug of your body as he manipulated your dreams, making you see and feel what he wanted you to. He never let you see him, disappearing into the night whenever you would wake, but always arriving the next night to watch you again. It was his favorite, the little noises that squirmed from your lips when he would press his claws between your legs in your dream, making your thighs press together on your bed. He loved it, he loved you. But, he was becoming impatient, not satisfied with just having you in your mind anymore. He had coaxed you enough, driving you to expect him now, mind already conditioned to his looks and his touch; you would be familiar now. Your body would accept him now, even if your mind didn’t.

-

Pressed in the same corner as always, he was twisting your latest dream, giving you the wonderful experience of him licking against your neck, rubbing you through your panties as you wined and thrashed on your bed. Jack snickered, long arms crossed and claws digging into his clothes as he watched, licking his spikey teeth as you arched your back. 

He had decided tonight would be it, the first time you would see him outside of your slumber. Regardless if you were ready or not, he was, and he didn’t know if he could wait much longer to get his claws around you. The clown spent the better part of the day watching you, thinking about you, obsessing over your sickly sweet self. You were perfect, a complete contrast to him, but fitting his needs perfectly. 

When you suddenly rolled to your side, curling into yourself as you panted, cheeks flushed and dark as you whined, Jack’s attention came back. The darkness of your room was lit nicely by a small nightlight, the little sun and moon design shooting pastel colors across your warm skin and making you look so lovely, enough to make the clown press off the wall. 

Your bed was small, definitely going to be barely enough for the two of you as he kneeled onto your mattress, dipping the weight and making you shift, whining from your dream. “Hi, pretty.” Jack cooed softly, brushing your hair out of your flushed face and leaning down towards you, breathing in your lovely smell. He loved everything about you, every small detail that no human would ever notice, only his unnatural abilities could pick up on. You needed him, he could smell it, feel it. Pressing his body down onto the mattress, he curled around you, spooning you against him as he wrapped his arms around your small waist, tugging you closer. You immediately relaxed against him, back arching to accommodate his large stature and legs tangling with his long ones, breathing deep as he snuggled behind. The clown’s claws danced on your skin, tugging at your clothes and brushing against your hair, smiling as he placed small kisses against your tired face. You melted into him, mind completely unaware as he still mixed in your dreams, contorting your senses to automatically crave him. 

“So small… smells good…” He mumbled against the shell of your ear, a subconscious gasp slipping as goosebumps rose. Jack kissed against your neck, minding his long nose and nibbling against your skin, slowly fading your dream out and substituting it for real life. You whined, hands gripping onto his wandering arms and tugging at them, snoring lightly. Small mumbles fell from your mouth, little confused jabbers and sleepy questions that he couldn’t quite hear, but pressed his lips to the shell of your ear anyway. “Jack.” He whispered, kissing against your neck as your browns knitted, sleep heavy on your brain. “Jack…” You mumbled back halfway through a sigh, pressing your neck against his mouth, mindlessly feeding into the clown’s growing arousal. “Jack…” You whispered again, beginning to numbly repeat the name and let it settle in your mind, Jack’s excitement bouncing at the delicious way you said it. As you continued, he began to push your shirt up, palming at your tits and tugging the fabric over your head, letting the goosebumps rise as he ran his claws down. “Pretty girl.” He smiled, nibbling against your bare shoulder.

The clown’s cock was throbbing now, nestled comfortably against your ass as he began to slowly rut against you, long tongue lapping at your warm skin. He drew a claw up, wrapping it around your tiny throat and squeezing slightly, grinning at the sigh that he pushed out as he pressed his hips against your flesh. His cock slotted perfectly between your clothed asscheeks, hips jerking and stuttering as he chased his arousal, holding your hips still as he moved. Draped slightly over you, he pinned you in place, the sheer weight of the clown securing your hips as he moaned into your ear, panting his approval as he humped against you. Your body subconsciously pressed back against him, back arching to get a better angle of his clothed cock against you, letting his claw mindlessly rouse you from your deep sleep and slowly into consciousness. He felt you stir, wrapping a claw around your jaw and turning your head, watching as your eyes slowly fluttered open. He pressed his lips to yours, tugging your cheek and shoving your lips against his, forcing a desperate makeout that your tired brain couldn’t comprehend yet. Jack panted and groaned into your open mouth, lips occasionally catching but he was too focused on rutting his hips, grinding his clothed cock against your ass as you shifted, straining against his rough grasp.

“Jack…” You sighed again, the name repeating like a quiet mantra as your tired brain tried to figure out what was happening, hips instinctively leaning into it because you felt so good despite being so dazed out. “Jack..?” You began to question, hands pressing against his claw snagged onto your hip, cheeks squished together as the clown kissed against the corner of your lips, panting against the skin. Jack dug his heels into your sheets, long limbs contorting to fit around you as you began to squirm, trying to press out of his grasp now, trying to understand what was happening. “Lay still, pretty girl…” He hissed, tip catching on the band of your panties, tugging them up as he rutted, nails digging into your soft skin. You whined, pushing on the sheets and trying to turn around, trying to see who was behind you, but the clown held you still, beginning to guide your hips with his.

It helped that you were already aroused from your dream, body already hot and bothered and easily coaxed into his movement, taking little persuasion for you to open your legs and let his cockhead nudge against your clothed entrance. You mewled, hissing against his teeth nibbling into your skin, little welts appearing across your shoulder. “Feel how hard you make me… Can’t wait to be inside… Can’t wait…” Jack was huffing, burying himself into the crook of your neck as he pushed his hard cock against you, practically forcing your panties into your entrance as he nudged at your hole, trying to make himself inside despite his slacks covering him. He throbbed, claws desperate and tongue curling against your neck, lapping at your sweat and scent of excitement. You didn’t have to look anymore, didn’t have to guess as the ruffles of his collar pressed against the back of your head, long limbs swallowing you, dreams had revealed enough for you to know, enough for you to grind down against him. How he was here, how he had gotten into your bed, how he even knew where you lived, you were too tired to guess, too tired to do anything but let his claws guide you under him, his body sliding down yours. This dream was more intense than the others, it felt real, you tried to convince yourself you were still asleep, still dozing alone in your bed during this wet dream.

But as claws slipped into your panties and desperately tugged off of your soaked cunt, pulling them off of your ankles, you began to question. Jack’s large claw snagged around both of your ankles, holding them in the air as he kneeled, sliding his suspender straps off of his shoulders. You watched through sleepy eyes, eyelashes fluttering as he let the straps fall at his hips, unbuttoning his slacks and tugging them down, letting his angry cock slip out, balls tugged out and laid heavy between his legs. You gasped, whining as he kneeled closer, prying your legs apart and grinning at your sopping pussy. “Gonna eat you out, pretty girl. Gonna make that pussy cum, m’kay?” He chuckled, bright eyes roaming your tiny body compared to his, laying down on his chest as he wrapped his long arms around your thighs, dragging you closer.

You squirmed and whined, letting your hands run down your body and to his wild dark hair, snagging in the mess and tugging his face closer, letting your thighs press open. You had no fear, blissfully unaware of how real this situation was as Jack licked your folds open, long tongue twirling and flicking against your lips. He groaned, kissing against your soaked arousal before pressing his tongue in, nudging the muscle into your entrance and letting your back tug off the bed, curling your hips down onto his tongue as you moaned. Jack was so into it, so focused on pushing his tongue as deep as he could that he could hear you begin to panic, tugging his hair back as you realized that tongue was far longer than you anticipated. It jolted you out of your tired haze, the sensation of your walls stretching around the clown’s large tongue made you keenly aware of just how little this felt like a dream anymore, how real this all seemed. Jack just continued, curling and twisting his tongue along your plush walls, wanting only to soak in your lovely taste and get you ready for him, what he knew you needed. 

You began to jabber your sobs, mumbling against your moans and whining for Jack to stop, hips twitching against the overwhelming feeling. You could hardly breathe, every press of his tongue against your g-spot making you suck in a ragged breath and cry out, gasping for relief. Jack began to thrust his cock into the bed below, rutting against the soft sheets as he became so turned on by your noises, bright eyes clenched shut as he worked. He whined into your cunt, sloppy and messy movements pushing slobber and arousal against his chin, smearing it along your thighs and cheeks, Jack losing himself in your taste. “So tasty…” He babbled against your folds, sucking your lips as he gushed into your cunt, cock whining to be buried inside and stretching you open. You were clawing at the sheets, pushing against his head as you pleaded for him to stop, overstimulation rushing over you as you stuttered, clit pulsing as your thighs shook, begging to close. Jack wouldn’t listen, he could barely even hear you over the roar in his ears, his primal urge to stuff you ruling out any remorse he felt for your aching pussy. 

Despite your pleas, you were cumming quickly against his tongue. Walls clenching and hips spasming around the girth of his tongue, clenching down tight as your arousal soaked in. Jack whined, moaning loud into your folds as he sucked and lapped at your juices, claws dug tight into your thighs as he moved his head with your flinching hips, refusing to let up until he tasted every drop. You cried, sobbing into your hands as he held you still, breath heavy and chest panting as you rode your high, overstimulation pinching at your senses. Jack had rutted a wet spot into your sheets, cock leaking profusely as he lifted off, sliding his soaked tongue out of your dripping cunt and grinning, panting against your thighs. 

You could barely look through hooded eyes at the mess he had made, white face paint smeared across your thighs and folds, sweat and arousal smearing the paint against your skin. It was enough to make Jack cum, his cock twitching hard in the air as he sat back, admiring his paint all over you. You whined, pushing against his claws wrapped around your thighs as he tugged them open again, positioning his hips against yours.

He nestled his cock against your cunt, gripping the length and slapping it down against your clit and making you jump, sensitivity pulsing through you. “No… please…” You whined, trying to clench your thighs together but he held your ankles easily, holding them arm's length apart. “Why are you this turned on if you don’t want it, pretty girl?” He mused, dropping one of your ankles to line his tip with your entrance, the girth much bigger than any cock you had taken before and making your skin chill as he began to push. You frantically clawed at the sheets, trying to push away from the clown. “It won’t fit.” You whined, pushing your hands to cover your aching cunt as Jack laughed, abandoning your legs to wrap a claw around your wrists, pining them above your head as he repositioned, nudging himself in. “You’ll learn to take it…” He chuckled, using his free hand to hold your soft hips down as he pushed in, the tip popping in against the wetness and warmth of your cunt. It probably wouldn’t fit as comfortably as you wanted it to, but when your tightness began to squeeze around Jack’s already-about-to-cum cock, he didn’t mind hearing your desperation if it meant he got to feel you. 

“You were made for me, lovely.” Jack hissed against your ear as he lay on top of you, slowly guiding your hips down as he pushed in, stretching your cunt impossibly wide as you cried, sobbing into the lips that began to press against yours. This wasn’t a dream, not anymore, you realized. A claw held down your wrists above your head, the other sliding under your knee to push your leg back, opening your entrance wider to give the clown a better angle. He moaned loudly, laughing through whines as he began to shallowly thrust, the first couple inches pushing in and out of your cunt as you sobbed, straining against him. “That’s it. Let me in, let me fuck you like you need to be…” He smiled, lazy laughs and heavy groans filling your open mouth as he sucked on your lips, nibbling his teeth into your jaw. With every thrust he aimed to go deeper, to push his cock in further than the last one.

It was devastating for your cunt, the poor sensitive thing struggling to balance out the pleasure and pain that was wrecking you as you arched, trying to open up more. “Can you feel me inside? Do you even know how good you feel?” Jack laughed, moving to bite down against your neck, hissing as he licked against the wound, kissing down your shoulder. He was getting deeper down, cunt relaxing the longer he thrust, walls fluttering around the desperate length that begged to bottom out, getting ever closer. It was so deep you felt like you couldn’t breathe right, gut flinching and contorting with every press against your sensitive gut. 

Loud skin slapping echoed as Jack’s cock began to press against the deepest part of your cunt, nudging against your womb and fucking you open quickly. His balls slapped your ass, the heavy mounds smacking down as he leaned back, letting go of your wrists to cup his hands under your knees, pushing them back as you began to paw at his chest. “Mngonna fuck you so full… Milking me like you need it.” He panted between thrusts, tugging his hips out as far as he could before pushing back into your gushing cunt, loud squelches and soaked folds coating his length. He was close, bright eyes rolling softly as you gripped his ruffled collar, tugging against it as he snapped his hips, moaning against your skin. “You were made for me, pretty girl. Need to cum… Mngonna cum and show how good it feels in you…” He smiled, blubbering against his swollen lips as he pressed his lips with yours, whining into your mouth as he spilt.

His cum was hot and thick, pumping into your ruined cunt desperately like he truly needed you full, big with his seed. He groaned loud, eyes clenched shut as he thrust through his orgasm, milking his cock of all it was worth inside of you, twitching deep into your warmth. “That’s it… So good… Knew it would be…” He hissed, clawing into the underside of your thighs as he raised off of you, licking a stripe across your cheek and nibbling the flesh before leaning back.

You waited for him to pull out, to let his thick cum spill against your sheets, but he didn’t. He only turned you onto your side, leaving his still-hard cock nestled in your cunt as he tugged your right leg onto his shoulder, relaxing back against you. You watched through heavy, panicked eyes, clawing at your pillow as he began to thrust again, sensitive cunt screaming at you as his nudged his cum back in. You immediately began to kick your legs, pushing him away as he just pressed deeper, claw wrapping around your thigh as he wrapped around the other, tugging your body to his with every thrust. Tears spilt, the air from your lungs gasping out as Jack cried out, clenching his sharp teeth as he watched you come undone again, relishing in the way you stared back at him, eyes pleading. “Don’t close your eyes yet, pretty girl… Just one more, I need it, just one… You can take it, I know you can, yeah?” Through every thrust, he chanted some desperate coax, your answering whines and sobs combatted against your cunt that fluttered against his words, fucking his cum deeper into you. Even though your mind refused, Jack had conditioned you, preparing you for him. Even if you didn’t know it, your body wanted him, beckoned for him, needed him. He couldn’t let you down.

Pushing his chest down, he bent your leg on his shoulder, pushing it down and opening your cunt wider, shoving his hips so deep even he gasped against the tightness. “Jack-” You cried, palming against his claws and scratching at his shirt, trying to ground yourself as your body racked under his tugs, bones going limp under him. You were so tired, so delusionally overstimulated you couldn’t physically resist, only your unheard begs falsely wishing for relief, but you knew better, knew that every time your cunt strained around the girth it was a heavenly feeling. “What, pretty? C’mon, talk.” Jack whined, kissing against your calf and nibbling at the skin, turning you onto your back to tug your other leg up onto his opposite shoulder, pushing them both back. With every thrust of his hips, his cum leaked out of your entrance, pooling between your cheeks and mixing with your arousal.

You cried at the deepness, every slap of his hips pushing his cock against your g-spot, nails clawing against his shoulders as his claws rested on your tits, massaging the mounds as he thrust. “So big… Deep…” You gasped out, arching into the feeling as your stomach coiled, your orgasm teetering at the edge. Jack grinned, jagged teeth shining against your nightlight as he continued, spreading his knees to get a better push, skin slapping loud enough to echo against the small room. “Can you cum again, lovely? Cum for me?” You nodded, running your hands into his messy hair and holding stable, tugging as he grinned, speeding his thrusts to a nauseating pace.

You were cumming around his cock hard, hips jerking and slamming against his as you writhed, eyes rolling back as your cunt swallowed him deeper. “Just like that…” Jack mewled, letting his own thrusts become lazy as he grit, whining against the tightness of your cumming walls. The clown was quick to follow, spilling yet again deep inside, fucking his orgasm into you as he refused to stop, pushing your senses into overload as you sobbed, tears running down your cheeks. Jack let your ankles slip off of his shoulders, pressing his chest down against yours as he licked into your mouth, pressing his lips down as you milked his cock dry, tugging the last of his orgasm through with your own. 

You both panted heavily, desperate touches continuing against each other’s skin as you both made out, lying the afterglow of your mutual ecstasy. “So pretty… my pretty girl… mine.” Jack slipped between kisses, letting his cum leak as he slowly pulled out, popping the tip of his cock out of your tight rim. You whined, letting his claws feel your soft skin as he tugged you against him, letting your eyes flutter closed as you felt his cum spill onto the sheets below.

Sleep overtook you, the early hours of the morning tugging at your sore bones as you relished in the feeling of no more perverted dreams keeping you stirred. But when your bed lay empty the next morning, sheets askew and cum stained into the fabric, your friends would have no clue where you went. They would have no clue whose arms you were draped in, carried closely through the woods and out of sight and reach of anyone who wanted you. You were special, different from the mindless humans he preyed upon, you were his. He had claimed you fair and square.

No one wanted you as Jack did. And no one would ever get the chance to again.

This was an anonymous request!

Comments and reblogs are appreciated! 𐚁₊⊹

[luminousnotmatter]

Well. Like. Damn, Fe. @blue-aconite 😳‼️🫣‼️😭‼️

That was absolutely b r u t a l. In the most absolutely b e a u t i f u l of ways. ✨

I ADORE the way you dropped us right smack dab into Jake’s story and the utter crumbling, heartbreaking ruination of his whole world with this Prologue. Just yoinking the rug out from under us from the word go, and, Lady, I have nothing but love for that. 💯♥️💯♥️💯 As always, the voice with which you bring Jake Seresin to life is *chef’s kiss* exquisite, immaculate, incredible, etc. (AND HE’S A SINGLE DAD?!? 🥲🫠😭 brb swooning in the club) I’m already so, so, so excited to see the journey on which you take Jake to heal his big ol’ sweet heart, ‘cause as we Jake Girlies™️ (gn) know to be true; it’s a soft one, with heaps of love to give, and he deserves nothing but love in return. The supportive, ceaseless, accepting, for-life kind. 🥹🫶🏻🩵

On a related note: Sarah can take the longest walk off the nearest and shortest available pier. Yesterday. ‼️‼️‼️

fields of dandelions || prologue

Summary: Jake's life falls apart in less than an hour and he's left trying his best to pick up the pieces.

Warnings: Swearing, cheating

Word Count: 1.6k

Pairings: Jake Seresin x OC

Authors Note: And we're back with a new series! This has been sitting in my drafts forever and I finally found the motivation to finish off the prologue. I just think the world needs more single dad!Jake, don't y'all agree?

Thank you to my betas @a-reader-and-a-writer & @green-socks and for letting me ramble on about this!

Jake spent a good twenty minutes staring at his own house through the windscreen. He remembered when he and Sarah first bought it. A lot had happened since. And now it looked like it was all coming to an end. 

Sarah was on the phone as he entered the kitchen, talking quietly as she flipped through a magazine. He shoved his hand into the pockets of his jeans, leaning against the doorframe and waiting for her to notice him. When she didn’t acknowledge his presence, he cleared his throat.

“Sarah.”

She looked up, eyes widening as she saw him. “Jake. I didn’t realise you were going to be home yet.” She ended the call without saying goodbye and Jake noticed how she chose to put the phone with the screen down. 

He gave her a tight smile before sitting down across from her. “Half day. They’re running drills with the kids so Mav sent us home.”

“That’s nice. Did you pick up the boys?”

Jake shook his head. “Javy picked them up. They’re trying out his new pool.” The boys had been on their case since they found out their uncle Coyote was installing a pool in his backyard. 

She hummed but offered no other answer. An uncomfortable silence filled the space, neither of them speaking. Sarah shifted in her seat, eyes darting back and forth between him and her phone. 

Jake felt his stomach turn but decided to jump the gun. “I think we need to talk.”

He had expected some sort of fight, some sort of protest, so when Sarah only sighed and twisted her face in what resembled a smile, it was like a punch to the gut. 

“How did you find out?” she asked, completely unbothered as she inspected her nails. She didn’t bother denying it, even though Jake hadn’t asked about it directly. But it was enough to confirm what Jake already knew but hoped he was wrong about. 

Jake dragged a hand through his hair, baffled at her lack of reaction. “How did I find out? Is that all you have to say?” 

“What do you want me to say?” Sarah shook her head, manicured nails tapping the table. Jake dragged a hand down his face. 

“I want you to say that you didn’t fuck him. That you didn’t invite him into our house while our boys were home. I mean, what the fuck?!” 

If his words affected her, Sarah didn’t show it. She twisted her wedding band round and round, her silence telling him everything Jake needed to know. 

“If you’ve been unhappy -”

“It’s not about that. It’s complicated, Jake.” Sarah sighed. 

Jake scoffed, clearing his throat. “Uncomplicate it for me then. Tell me why I had to find out from our son that you’ve been inviting another man into my house. How many times, huh?”

“How many times what?” she countered, staring at him. Jake could barely recognise his own wife. She didn’t seem to care that their five-year-old had seen her with another man. 

“You know what I’m asking, don’t play dumb. How many times did you bring him here?” Jake pushed away from the table, unable to sit still anymore. Sarah’s disinterest only served to make him more agitated. 

As if his question finally affected her, Sarah looked up at him but her face showed nothing. “Just one time. And the kids were supposed to be asleep.”

“How long?” It hurt to ask but he needed to know. How long had she been cheating on him? He could piece it together, track back to when she started to become distant but he wanted her to admit it. As if it would feel better. 

Sarah pressed her lips together, hands clasped on top of the table. “Couple of months. I don’t know.”

He laughed at the absurdity of the situation. Of all the possible scenarios he had of the future when he asked Sarah to marry him after high school, this one had never crossed his mind. How had they ended up here?

“Why? “Tell me why.”

She shrugged her shoulders. “I don’t know.” 

Shaking his head, Jake gripped the back of the chair he vacated earlier. “Stop saying that. Tell me the truth. If the last 18 years have meant anything to you, you’ll be honest with me,” he paused, drawing a shaky breath. “You owe me that much.”

“I don’t know what to say, Jake! It’s done, okay? I can’t pinpoint the exact fucking moment, alright? One moment everything was alright and then it wasn’t. And he was there for me. Stop questioning me, this isn’t an interrogation.” Sarah spat, anger seeping into her voice.

“No. You don’t get to be angry. You’re the one that fucked up. You do not get to tell me I don’t get to ask questions.” Jake spat back, his own anger surfacing. She had no right to play the victim. 

Sarah rolled her eyes, a humourless laugh leaving her. “Alright, fine. Do you want the truth? I’m so fucking tired of this life. I’m tired of staying home all the fucking time whenever you get deployed, putting my own career on hold for you. I’m tired of it all. I’m tired of you. For once, I want to do something for me,  have something for myself.” 

“And to achieve that you decided that cheating on me was the best course of action? Why haven’t you talked to me about this?” Jake demands all the anger and hurt clashing together. 

Sarah shakes her head. “Like talking would do any good.”

He thought it would hurt more, to hear that his own wife was tired of him but all he could feel was a numbness spreading through his body. 

The woman sitting in front of him wasn’t his wife, wasn’t the mother of his children. She sounded cold, detached, almost like Jake felt. 

Jake scoffed. “Well, you could have said something, instead of fucking someone else. We could have tried couples therapy -” 

“It wouldn’t have made a difference. And now it doesn’t matter. What’s done is done.” Sarah interrupted. 

He stared at her, trying hard to remember the girl he once had fallen in love with. But she was nowhere to be found. Instead he saw someone he didn’t even recognised anymore. Sarah stared back, neither of them breaking eye contact. He knew it was the end. She knew it too. 

“Are you leaving?” 

Sarah lowered her gaze back to her hands. “Yes.”

“What about the boys?”

Sarah didn’t say anything. She stayed quiet, once again twisting her wedding band round and round. Jake sat down again, exhaustion seeping into his bones. “Sarah. What about the boys?”

“What about them?” She kept her eyes on her hands, refusing to meet his eye. 

Jake threw his hands up in frustration. “What do we tell them?”

Sarah pulls the wedding band off along with the engagement ring he’d given her all those years ago. He could do nothing but watch as she ended twelve years of marriage right in front of his eyes. Eighteen years together, right down the drain. 

She leaves them laying on the long abandoned magazine and Jake couldn’t make himself pick them up. He didn’t want to touch them. “We need to tell them.”

“They won’t understand,” Sarah argues. 

“So we shouldn’t say anything? They’re old enough to understand that something is wrong. We need to sit down together and talk to them,” he reasons but Sarah seems disinterested in continuing their conversation.

“No. You can tell them whatever you want. I’m not doing this,” Sarah snaps, blindsiding him. What the fuck is she saying?

When he asks her as much, Sarah simply shrugs her shoulders, that cold, hard exterior back in place. “I’m leaving. You can tell them whatever you see fit. It’s honestly not my problem.”

Jake explodes. “You’re not even going to say goodbye? How am I supposed to go pick up our children and explain to them why their mother isn’t home? How is that fair? To me? To them?!” He wants to grab her by the shoulders and shake some sense into her. 

The chair scrapes on the floor as Sarah stands and Jake follows suit, anger coursing through his veins. “You can’t just leave.”

Sarah simply levels him with a glare, challenging him to make another move. After a tense minute Sarah folds, shoulders slumping. “Fine. Pick up the boys and we’ll talk.”

“I swear to God, if you’re not here when I get back -”

“I’ll be here,” Sarah promises, sitting back down and flipping the magazine open again. The rings clatter onto the table and down onto the floor but neither of them makes an effort to get them.

As he pulls out of the driveway, Jake prays that she’ll still be there when they get back. He doesn’t believe her but at this point, he doesn’t have a choice. He chooses to believe that she wouldn’t abandon their sons. She might be tired of him, their marriage, but Jake knows Sarah loves Josh and Levi. She wouldn’t just leave. She couldn’t.

After exchanging a few words with Javy and making sure the boys are safely strapped in their seats, Jake rushes back home. He drives slower than he’d like to but with the boys in the car, he’s not willing to risk it. 

Dread fills him when he pulls into the driveway. The garage is open and Sarah’s convertible is gone. After bribing the boys with ice cream if they promise to stay in the car just a little while longer, Jake jogs up the porch, heart sinking in his chest. 

The house is eerily quiet when he steps inside and he berates himself for trusting Sarah to stay true to her word. Because all that is left of the woman he’s loved for eighteen years, the mother of his children, is a note on the fridge.

“Tell the boys I love them.”

Taglist: @wildbornsiren​ @ryebecca @imjess-themess @reels-and-wheels @antiquitea @writercole @hederasgarden @yanna-banana @bobfloydsbabe @hollandorks @anniesocsandgeneralstore @ereardon @luminousnotmatter @roosterscock @thedroneranger @fandomxpreferences @top-hhun @princessmisery666 @bradshawsbitch​ @a-reader-and-a-writer @green-socks @angstybluejay @seresinhangmanjake @ayorooster​@notroosterbradshaw​ @indynerdgirl @gigisimsonmars @girl-in-the-chairs-void@bradshawbabes @unhinged-btch @horseshoegirl @sadpetalsstuff @bradshawbaby @ahopelessromanticwritersworld @ummjustfics​ @septemberrie​ @somenamewithepineapple​ @seresinsweetie​​ @crescentwolf​ @seresinhangmanjake​ @waklman​ @roosterforme​ @rosiahills22​ @dempy​ @i0veless​ @ilovewriting06​ @kmc1989​ @demxters @amortentiadrops @teacupsandtopgun @hangmanscoming

[sweptawxy]

This wasn't the first time Risen King Chrom had clashed blades with the living. It was by Lord Grima's command that he felled his foes. This battle would be like all the others -- that's what he told himself. Then he sees his opponent hesitate at the sight of him, and the memory returns to the undead king's mind in an instant. "Frederick?" Chrom whispers. It is a herculean effort to defy Grima's power -- and, yet still, Chrom manages to fight it long enough to force himself to lower his blade. His glowing eyes gleam with remorse. "Frederick, run."

There's no getting around it now. He could hear other members of the shepherds falling, and with Grima's army of Risen falling as well- it meant the highest likely chance of seeing Chrom in the state as well. Hearing the now fallen Exalt remember his name- calling out to him in that raspy other worldly voice hurt. It hurt even more knowing he was violating the most sacred promise he kept to Emmeryn before she died.

Protect Chrom and Lissa.

He failed at one. He would not fail Lissa more than he had. So when Chrom ordered him to run, the knight stood his ground, bracing in a defensive stance and holding his axe out to swing with.

"I will hold the line." He said this a million times, but knowing he was about to kill someone he loved, it made the words harder to say. "I can not run while Lissa remains safe, I will protect her and I will stop you M'lord."

He wanted to cry, scream, curse himself. He wanted everyone to remember him as the worst knight in all of Ylisse.

[kaciidubs]

Pearl Necklace

❣ Summary: In which Chris gives you a personally made pearl necklace. ❣  ❣ Word Count: 1.2k ❣ Warnings: Smut, no plot, blowjob, cum play ❣  ❣ Female! Reader [No use of Y/N] | You/Your pronouns ❣  ❣ Additional Tags: Chan is referred to as Chris, Baby, Channie, Lover Boy, Reader is referred to as Baby, Pretty, Princess, unedited, ive been so busy with life and stuck in a writing rut so please take this as an unnecessary apology ❣ Stray Kids Masterlist ❣ General Masterlist

“Baby…” 

Your dramatic drawl came with the equally dramatic act of draping yourself over Chris’s body, effectively gaining his attention from whatever video he was watching on his phone as he happily welcomed your weight sinking him further into the couch. 

“Can I ask you something?”

He laughed, tilting his head, “I’d be surprised if you did all that with the intention of not trying to get my attention - what’s up, baby?”

“Can you give me a pearl necklace?”

The twinkle in your eyes did nothing to explain away your sudden request - you weren’t the type to usually wear accessories as it was already, so the desire for a pearl necklace out of any other form of jewelry had him raising an eyebrow.

“Pearls? Like, pearl beads? I mean…” Glancing at his phone, he swiped at the screen to pull up Google, “We can look up some places that sell them if you really want it, I think I can find a few stores that-”

Your hand swiftly slipped his phone from his hold before locking it and stashing it near the couch pillow underneath his head, dismissing his growing confusion with a charming smile.

“Actually, I was thinking that we could make it together.”

“Oh?” 

Do-it-yourself, of course - he loved when you had little projects you wanted to include him in, even if the outcome sometimes didn’t go to plan, it was the quality time that mattered the most.

“Sure, I’m down for that,” he sat up while you rose to sit in his lap properly, his hands resting on your bare thighs, “did you buy the stuff already? Do we need to go shopping?”

You shook your head, pink tongue peeking out to wet your lips, “Nope, everything we’d need is right here.”

A devilish swivel of your hips, loose pajama shorts almost becoming an invisible barrier against his worn basketball shorts, and his confusion spiked up once again.

“Pretty, what- Wait a second-” Hands gripping the width of your hips, he tried to will away the near instant reaction his body always had when it came to you, “What’s going on? I thought you wanted to make a necklace-”

“I do.”

Normally, your nod of agreement would’ve been enough to clear the air, but when you pulled your oversized t-shirt up and off of your body, the layers only deepened.

“So why are you taking off your clothes? Not- Not that I’m complaining, I just…” His train of thought began to trail off with the drifting of his eyes down your neck, following the contours of your collarbones to the swells of your chest he’d been acquainted with time and time again. “Are we actually making a necklace here or…?”

“We are,” leaning forward, you placed a featherlight kiss to his pouty lips, “we just need to do a few extra steps first.”

Chris designed a few pieces of jewelry in his lifetime, and though he wouldn’t say he’s an expert when it came to the actual crafting of the pieces, he’d be inclined to assume that the process of making a necklace didn’t involve his girlfriend on her knees, giving him the best head of his life - granted, he always considered everything she did for him as the best in his life, but his point still stood.

“Fuck… Just like that, baby- Oh, god-” His head fell against the back of the couch, a shiver running down his spine when he felt the tip press against the back of your throat again. “‘S so good, baby - you’re so fucking good, pretty girl.”

You hummed around his length, hollowing your cheeks as you slowly pulled off of him with a wet pop - lips glistening in a mixture of saliva and precum that put any form of lipgloss to shame.

“Just ‘good’, Channie?” Voice laced with teasing allure, you held the base of his cock as you laved your tongue along one of his balls, sucking at the skin and smirking at the kick of his leg in response.

He choked on a moan, one hand gripping the edge of the couch cushion while the other ran through his hair “Baby, please - I can’t- fuck- can’t really think while you’re doing this!”

Giving his other ball the similar treatment, you littered open mouthed kisses along the underside of his cock, “Mm… Can you look at me then, lover boy?”

To be honest, he wasn’t even sure when he had closed his eyes to begin with, but lifting his head and directing his full attention to you made him realize why keeping them closed was working in his favor.

Hypnotizing sultry gaze behind lidded eyes, your lips resting perfectly against his shaft as your hand gripped the base of his dick with practiced perfection - if he even dared to look any further then he’d see the utterly filthy line of saliva coating your chin, or the way your free hand was making itself busy between your legs.

The twitch of his dick was all you needed to feel to know that you had him right where you wanted him, a satisfied smile curving the corners of your lips as you pumped your fist.

“Ready to make that necklace for me?”

His breath hitched, lips parting to let out a shivering moan as he frantically nodded, “Y-Yeah- Shit, yeah - gonna make you look so pretty, princess.”

Your eyes sparkled, a giddy expression almost overtaking the utter lust exuding from you as you doubled your efforts with your hand - the wet, slick sound floating through the air while you jerked him off.

Chris fought the roll of his eyes as he focused on your goal-driven face, bucking into the drag of your palm as if he were truly fucking you, until the pressure in his abdomen became too much to bear.

“I’m gonna come, baby- Oh, god, yes- Y-Yeah, yeah-” His hand flew from the couch and wrapped around your own, angling his dick toward your chest with panted breaths, “I-I’m coming - I’m coming, f-fuck-”

The first splatter of cum landed directly on your neck, dripping its way toward your clavicle and between your breasts. Tilting your head back just a bit, you felt the warmth of his cum land around the curve of your neck, painting a shaky line of white against your skin with each shivering pass of your combined hands.

He let out a strained grunt as the last few drops dotted your cleavage, using your hand to thoroughly milk himself of the final remains before effectively melting into the couch with a worn sigh.

“So…” Giggling, you dropped your chin to get a better look at your exhausted boyfriend, “How do I look?”

Looking down, he noted the way his release seemed to follow the downward curve before either spilling down your collarbones or further filling out the line down your clavicle, adding a sort of teardrop design to your necklace.

“Honestly?” A breathless giggle escaped him as he reached his non-soiled hand out toward his phone, “How about I take a picture to show you, then we can work on adding some accessories to go with it.”

Safe to say, this wouldn’t be the last pearl necklace you’d receive from him.

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