#sandpit sand

[chipped-chimera]

Today in fish nonsense! 🐟🐠- Tank is good to go! Cool wood piece is cleaned and time to spend way too long on a plan painting.

More below the cut.

Tank has been set up, leak tested so it's good to go (after I overhauled the layout of my office ... still dealing with the fallout of that though lol) and the piece of jarrah/mirra? wood that my Dad grabbed from the tree he cut down on a farm (noting this specifically because it's actually now illegal to commercially harvest Jarrah in my state - this was on private property so it's legal) has had the absolute crap scrubbed out of it - I mean literally, in the process I found yet another interesting hole in it so that's cool, then high-pressure blasted with water so I am finally ready to think about scaping.

Which apparently means spending longer than I should drawing a plan lol. This piece is super awkward to work with I think - while functionally interesting it has a silhouette that makes me oscillate between 'boring' and 'awkward'. After talking to some artist friends, generally it was agreed I'd need to put more stuff in there to actually make it look better, right now naked glass is super harsh. Problem is, rocks and wood? Well in the aquarium hobby that shit is expensive. We're talking 60 AUD+ for pieces of wood. I mean they are fully cleaned and treated (?) and selected for being interesting, but I have a budget and I'd like to save as much of it as I can for more than just harscape sooooo planning is just the right idea here.

Thinking seiryu stone because I looooove the white veining through it, and then for the branches to break up the shape it's probably going to be spiderwood or something (as much as I love mopani wood I don't think it usually sells branched like this - but I will watch out for it) but the good part is these pieces are all probably going to be on the smaller side since I have my huge hunk of feature wood for free.

I don't know how this piece of wood will interact with inhabitants, I've soaked it for probably a month at this point to get a large amount of the tannins out (and I know it waterlogs, which is great because I won't have to play 'how long will this take to sink') but also to help the looser material come off so all I'm left with now is the hard stuff. It's also now sitting in the sun (and I mean sun - it is going to be 40C today and the next few days so that shit is gonna bake 💀) but prior to that has been sitting in the sun either here or the farm for a total of about idk ... at least a month? Maybe more?

I've struggled to find information on whether Jarrah or Mirra wood is safe beyond one post on a forum where someone-who-knew-someone at a local fish shop had put a piece of this in his store tank and all the fish died. Beyond that? no more context. According to my freshwater ecologist friend I caught up with, she thinks it's probably going to be okay given the amount of time/work put in. I have not done a bleach soak and I don't think I really need to given the amount of time it's been soaking in regular tap water (so already contains chlorine) and sun exposure. There will still probably be tannin leakage into the water but I'm okay with having a mild blackwater tank after seeing one in my LFS, I actually like the slight tannin tint of water and how it makes everything a little 'softer'. But I do ACTUALLY want to be able to see though lmao. I've also seen Jarrah seed pods sold locally specifically for blackwater tank setups so it might be fine?

Either way the plan is going to be: Scape, plant, cycle and then introduction of some cheap shrimp as my poor guinea pigs to see if that wood actually is awful.

Right now I'll just have to painstakingly go through plant choices and placement and making sure it lines up with the planned parameters for the community. I absolutely will take suggestions btw.

More soon. Fish nonsense will contain fish ... at some point. I swear lmao.

[mushroom-for-art]

Discord Server advert call??

Hi you like clowns?

That's right it's me ya boy I'm the clown, fuck yea you wanna be in a silly server with the silly clown boy?? Look at that got a clown sona and everything.

So what am I advertising?? Well our funky little discord server of course!!

We have!! Many things!! Such as! A choice of chats for talking memes images both for irl and characters, opportunities to show your works and wips through said channels, getting sneak peaks at things in the making! Such as bases and art I'm working on for examples, potentially chance of first access custom adopt designs (wowie!), Poketwo discord bot with polite communications of who gets to catch the pokemon (huzzah!(well see how long that lasts as the server grows whoops(and you get to enjoy my beef with Poketwo))) aaaand we talk about the silly dragon site (flight rising) and other pet sites and show off dragons and such! You are not immune to prebby dragons no?

Plus you might get to enjoy watching me suffer struggle and fail when we do gaming nights listening to me slowly lose sanity on voice chat and watch me game from my YouTube live so you can make commentary in my ears and mess up my time trials in real time! (plz have mercy)

We'll (me and Admin @xhunterbeatsx) think we have a working link hereeeee, if there's issues uh I'll call my boss (It's hunter, he's my boss), hell why don't you draw ur own Pokeclownsona to join our circus of Misfits! Partake in the sillies! Link ahoy!

[sandpitturtlescove]

artistic rendition of this in as shitty of quality as we can bare - core + 🍾

[junebuggyyyy]

will definitely loved those curly yellow slides at the playground when he was a kiddo

[vaguely-pagan]

Roof Extensions - Patio With a roof extension, a large, trendy backyard brick patio is shown.

[emphistic]

Can't Relate to Desperation

A/N: requested by anon — i apologize for how long this took; this was fun to write

— just a heads-up: this is preschool!Sukuna

“—I was wondering if you could help me with a little favor.”

“Sure, shoot.” Your friend was surprised to see Sukuna — out of all people — approach them, but they didn't show it.

“Y/N’s birthday is pretty soon, and I don’t have any ideas on what to get her.” Sukuna had known you for a long while. But that didn’t mean he knew what you wanted for a birthday present. I mean, he obviously knows your likes and dislikes. Your hobbies and pastimes. Your favorite colors, foods, drinks, movies, even. But none of those gave him an idea for a meaningful birthday present.

“Ohh, yeah. I'm getting her a matching pajama set! Because we’re going to have a sleepover after her party.”

Sukuna mentally raised a brow at that, he thought you guys were already planning on having a sleepover. And he most definitely did not remember inviting anyone else to the sleepover.

“I didn't ask.” Sukuna wanted to get this questionnaire over with already, and go back to playing with you on the swings or something like that.

“Hey! That’s not nice. I’ll tell the teacher.”

“Can you help me or not?”

“No, because you’re a meanie. And meanies don’t deserve my help.” Your friend crossed her arms and turned away from Sukuna, emitting a little ‘hmph’ sound.

“Okay, okay. I'm sorry. Can you just help me?” He couldn't believe he just apologized to someone other than you.

“Fine,” your friend huffed out, turning back around.

All the while, you watched this exchange happen from afar. Earlier, you were back in the classroom, digging through your backpack to find the necklace you had purchased with your early birthday money from your parents. You had planned to give it to Sukuna, but it currently looked like he had acquired another friend.

And, what made it even more disappointing was the fact you spent at least ten minutes looking for him. You waited outside the restrooms, searched the playground, dug through the sandpit — in case he got buried, and even checked the cubbies. Then you took a lap outside, and found him talking to another girl, who happened to be your [second] best friend — (Sukuna being the first).

The smile plastered across your face immediately dropped, and so did the necklace in your hands.

It’s not like Sukuna wasn’t allowed to have other friends, it’s the fact that he doesn't — by choice, obviously — except for you. And it's been that way, ever since you complimented his hair, saying, “I love the pink! It is my favorite color,” which was contrary to many of your other classmates. Most kids actually made fun of him for it, albeit Sukuna would always glare in their direction and the laughter and teasing would stop in an instant.

You couldn't believe your eyes. He usually ignored people who tried to talk to him and pushed aside those who wanted to make friends. So why was he suddenly talking to your friend? Was he trying to replace you? Did he get bored of you? Why were they talking in such a secluded area behind the garbage cans? Was he trying to hide all of this from you?

You wiped your soon watering eyes with your sleeve, grabbed the necklace off the ground, and quickly ran in the opposite direction.

Coincidentally, as soon as Sukuna got all the information he needed from your friend, he saw your figure turning around. Why were you here? He thought.

“Thanks.” Sukuna ran away from your friend, and as soon as he caught up to you, he said, “Hey, where are you going?”

“Nowhere.” You didn't turn around to face him, continuing to run away.

Sukuna came to a halt, staring at your back. What's your problem? Sukuna decided it was probably nothing, and that you just wanted some alone time, so he left you to your alone time and resorted to playing in the sandpit by himself. But it didn't feel the same as when you played with him. The sand was too warm, the sandcastle was off-center with the hills made of sand, the birds’ singing was too loud. Nothing was right.

You had to admit, avoiding Sukuna was like avoiding the sun. You could hide out under roofs and loiter inside the restrooms, but you had to get out eventually. And eventually you did; recess had ended and you had to get back to the classroom to continue your lessons. And who did you sit next to? Take a wild guess.

When you sat down in your seat, you scooted your chair as far as possible away from the boy beside you — who stayed still, utterly confused at your actions, and wondering why the hell you were being this way.

Then, your class was assigned a group project. Sukuna turned to you, expecting the two of you to pair up, but to his surprise, you asked another classmate to pair up instead.

Okay, he thought. Maybe you just want to get social with other people; that's fine. That's normal.

What wasn’t normal was the fact that you continued to blatantly ignore the pink-haired boy even at lunchtime.

Sukuna asked you his usual question, “Do you want to share my juicebox?” And, thank Heavens, you finally looked him in the eye. But then you flatly said, “No,” before turning around and starting to eat your own lunch.

Sukuna frowned. “What’s your deal today? Are you allergic to apple juice now or something?”

“No.” Going back to what you did earlier, you didn't face him this time, choosing to eat your sandwich in peace.

Usually, you gave him the crust of your sandwiches to eat, because you didn’t like how they tasted, and he did, but you decided against that today. Which was a shame, Sukuna was looking forward to eating your sandwich’s crust.

“Geez, okay. Be that way, I guess.” Sukuna stabbed the straw into his juicebox and drank. But like the sandpit, it just wasn't the same.

This continued all day. And I mean all day.

Sukuna was starting to get real upset. This frustrated him deeply. He swore that if you kept on avoiding him and running away every single time he tried to approach you, he was going to end up with white hairs at the age of four.

Did you not want to be his friend anymore? Did you finally grow to dislike his pink hair that you once loved so much? He hoped the answers to those questions were a definite ‘no’.

He hoped the answer to those questions was a definite ‘no’.

Finally defeated and having given up on his searching for you all over school, he walked to the playground, hoping that swinging would clear his head. And God, he was so thankful he did just that. Because upon entering the play area, he found you, already sitting on the swings and swinging sadly, by yourself. You were swinging sadly on the swings, yes, indeed you were.

It was quite an amusing sight, to anyone who didn’t know the context. But Sukuna did, to an extent, at least. He knew you were upset, and that the likely cause was him. It was always him. Always. Good or bad, happy or sad, he was always the cause, for you. But you wouldn’t have it any other way, right?

Your head was low, focused on staring at the ground beneath you as you swung back and forth. Sukuna thought you looked cute like that — your braids dangling in front of your face, as you basked in the sun’s rays.

But then Sukuna remembered the task at hand, and made sure to approach you with caution and much needed confidence [in himself].

When he got closer to you — only a few feet apart — he quickly realized why your head was so low when you raised it to look at him, tears in your doe, yet angelically pure eyes.

He cleared his throat. “Y/N. What’s . . . wrong? What’s upsetting you? . . .Is it me?” He whispered the last part, to the point it was barely audible; but you heard him. You always did.

“Why don’t you go and talk to your other new friend, huh?” You spat out, stifling a hiccup as it came.

“Wait—what?” Sukuna’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

“Don’t play dumb. I know what you did. I know what you’re doing. You can replace me with whoever you want, I don’t care, not anymore. Now go away so I can play all by my lonesome.

“Y/N, I’m not replacing you. I know you’re a dummy sometimes but. . . Where’d you even get such a ridiculous idea?”

“Oh, so I’m the dummy?” you retaliated.

Then it hit him, you were referring to earlier this morning, when he was talking to your friend for advice on what to get you as a birthday present.

“I—you’ve got it all wrong, Y/N. All wrong. I wasn’t, I’m not, and I would never ever replace you. So get that stupid idea out of your head already. I was just asking her for help to . . . get you . . . something — for your . . . birthday, that’s coming up soon.” He didn’t want to spoil the surprise, but if it would make you feel any better, he couldn’t care less about keeping a silly little secret.

“Oh, Sukunaaa! You could’ve just asked me!” You jumped off the swings, swiftly wiping your teary eyes dry, and tackled Sukuna into a hug. The two of you fell into a giggling mess of tangled limbs on the ground.

And to your surprise, the following week, Sukuna gifted you a necklace at your birthday party. It was a cheap, dainty necklace, that much was obvious. But opening the heart charm revealed a poorly taken, bad quality, photo of you and Sukuna both. You two were smiling like idiots, embraced in a hug, and you recognized the picture to date back to when you visited Sukuna at one of his basketball games. The first game of his that you went to, actually.

The cherry on top was the fact that the necklace he got you was the same necklace you were planning on giving him before you saw him talking to your friend last week.

But, ah, it was whatever. You wouldn’t have it any other way.

Taglist: @beyond-your-stars @sad-darksoul @mochimoee @r0ckst4rjk @lillycore @deepchromatose @yinyinyinyinyinyin @fivehoneyharg @desihopelessromantic @taiyakii @hannas16 @acroso @msvalsius @call-memissbrightside

[eternalsams]

Hold My Hand ⇴ J.Seresin

pairing: Jake Seresin x fem!reader

warnings/content: fluff, childhood friends to lovers, divorced parents, smut, oral (fem receiving), p in v, protected sex (wrap it up kids!), cum eating, pregnancy, pregnancy and birth inaccuracies, angst, complicated birth, c-section, death, grief, depression, mention of child neglect

summary: 5 times you held Jake's hand and the one time you couldn't (+1 bonus).

word count: 6.6k

a/n: English isn't my first language, please take that into consideration. Also, this is my first time writing a smut so please be indulgent. Thank you!

masterlist

ONE

Jake and you met when you were four and him six. Forget about that whole "your moms were best friends" or "you were neighbors since you were born". No. Your mom and his first met each other at your wedding actually but that's a story for another time. Jake and you met at the park during a summer afternoon. You were playing in the sandpit, trying to build a sand castle with the little plastic bucket your dad bought for you the week before. You were trying to keep it standing tall but it would always eventually crumble and fall apart. The frustration started to build up in you and you threw the bucket away from you, crossing your arms on your chest and pouting. You were about to stand up and go find your dad but a little boy, a bit older than you stood before you. "You need to add a little bit of water." You frowned and stayed silent, watching the boy pick up your bucket and grab a bottle of water from the back pack on his shoulders.

You watched closely as he filled the bucket with sand and poured a bit of water. He stirred everything with his bare hands and he overturned the bucket on the ground before lifting it up gently. The pout on your face fell and was replaced by a surprised expression when you saw the sand stay still. You looked up at the boy with parted lips and then back down at the first tower of your castle. The boy slightly laughed at your expression and he started filling up the bucket with sand to make a new tower. You were quick to stop him by grabbing the bucket and filling it up yourself. When you were done, you reached to grab the bottle of water but he was already holding it. "Wait. You do the sand, I do the water. Team work." A smile took place on your face and you nodded excitedly.

The two of you worked perfectly together and you ended up building a big sand castle. The boy was nice, he did as he said, he let you build your castle and he only helped you with the water. When you were done with the castle, you turned to him and wrapped your arms around him, thanking him for his help. He hugged you back and contemplated your work. You pulled away from him and walk around the castle, admiring it. "I'm Jake." He introduced himself, drawing your attention back to him. "I'm Y/N." You smiled at him before you heard the ice-cream man unique melody. You turned around and saw the vending truck parking next to the park. You jumped up and down and grabbed Jake's hand before running to your dad to ask for an ice-cream. Jake smiled at the feeling of your small hand in his and he followed you, smiling politely at your father when he asked him if he also wanted an ice-cream.

TWO

You were now eighteen and getting ready for your second date with Jake. You realized you had feelings for your best friends years ago and you talked about it with him but you also wanted to graduate from high school before starting anything. You knew how much of a distraction he could be for you, even without trying to be, and you also knew that if you started a relationship with him before graduating, you wouldn't graduate at all. So you told him you wanted to wait, but what you didn't expect was that he would wait for you too. You thought he would have some dates with girls from high school and since he was two years older than you, you thought college would change his mind and that he would forget about you. But he didn't. You've never seen him with a single girl at his arm, never seen him look at any girl the way he looked at you. And when graduation day finally came, he asked you out, even asked your dad if that was okay with him if he brought you to a nice restaurant. And that's what he did, he brought you to a really nice restaurant but not too fancy. It wasn't awkward as you thought it would. You laughed, chatted and acted like you used to but there was something else. Some glances, some touches, that's what made the difference with all the other nights out.

And tonight would be your second date, he told you he'd surprise you, not to dress too fancy. So you opted for a nice sundress with a cardigan and some old school converse shoes. You heard the door bell ringing and smiled before running down the stairs, quickly kissing your dad's cheek who was holding the front door open for you. You locked eyes with Jake and smiled at him before he wrapped his arm around your shoulders and kissed your head. "You look amazing." He murmured against your hair. "Don't stay out too late, kids, okay?" Your dad made sure to remind you. "Don't worry, I'll bring her home in one piece." Jake smiled at your father, the two men always laughing together, you were glad the two of them got along. "12am, not later than. Understood?" The elder man said as Jake walked you to his truck. "Sir, yes Sir." He mock-saluted before you heard the front door close behind you. "So... Where are you taking me tonight?" You asked him as he held the passenger door open for you. "Get in the car and see for yourself." He winked and closed the door when he made sure you were comfortably seated. He jogged around the truck and sat down behind the wheel.

He turned to you and smirked before quickly glancing at the back seats. You frowned and turned your head, discovering a blanket and a bag full with food. "We're having a picnic?!" You asked excitedly when you turned back to him. He nodded, started the car and pulling it in drive before getting out of your driveway. The drive was silent but not awkward, only the radio was faintly playing the summer hits and Jake was tapping his fingers in rhythm on the steering wheel while you quietly hummed the melody. Jake eventually parked next to a lake, the sun set reflecting on the water. You grabbed the blanket and he took the bag before he led you on the lakeside, under a weeping willow. It was really nice, romantic and intimate, cutting you from the outside world. You settled everything and sat down on the blanket. Just like your first date, you laughed, talked and this time, you even cuddled on the blanket. Even though it was summer and the days were hot, the fresh air of the evening was giving you goosebumps and Jake noticed it immediately, wrapping you in his arms.

He checked his watch and saw that it was almost 11:30. He kissed your hair and leaned over to whisper in your ear. "I should get you home, I don't want your dad to cancel our weekly football training." Oh yeah, that was something else your dad and Jake shared. Since the moment Jake told him he loved and played football, your dad made sure to play with him. Jake was already part of the family at that point. You nodded and helped him getting everything back in the bag before walking to the truck. As promised, Jake got you home before 12 and he walked you to the front door. You were looking down at your feet, feeling your cheeks blushing hard by the proximity. You stopped on the porch and Jake cleared his throat. "That was really nice." You looked up at him and smiled softly, standing on your tip toes to kiss his cheek. At the last moment, Jake turned his head and your lips landed on his for a second. You pulled back, eyes wide and your face as hot as a grill. "It was." He smiled at you before taking a step closer, if that was even possible. He slid his hands on your waist and looked down at you. You realized just now how tall he was. "Was that okay with you?" He asked, a bit concerned about your silence. You simply nodded and put your hands on his shoulders. "Can I do it again?" You nodded again and he smiled gently before leaning down and tilting your head slightly back so he could have better access to your lips.

The kiss was oh so gentle, you didn't really know how to kiss him back properly so you just moved slightly your lips against his, tasting him for the first time. That only had a growl coming out of him and you grew eager to hear him do that again. You wrapped your arms around his neck and kept tasting his lips. You felt his fingers dig into your hips, earning him a small moan from your lips. And that's when he decided it was enough for tonight, he didn't want to lose control over himself on your father's porch. He pulled away and rested his forehead on yours, keeping his eyes closed. You, on the other hand, opened your eyes and searched to meet his gaze. You licked your lips, the need to keep the taste of him there, and scratched nervously at his neck. "Did I do something you didn't like?" Your voice was quivering with anxiety and he opened his eyes, finally having back the control over his own body. He smiled softly and crossed your gaze. "No... You did something I really liked, that's why I needed to stop for a moment." He felt his cheeks heating up. "Oh..." You tried to contain your cheeky smile but he saw it. "I'll call you tomorrow. Have a good night..." He whispered against your lips before pecking them and pulling away from you, taking your hands in his and squeezing them. He started stepping back but you kept one of his hands in yours, not wanting to say goodnight yet. You watched him step away from you but not looking away, the same stupid smile on his lips than on yours. You eventually felt his fingers slip from yours and he walked down the porch before glancing back at you. You smiled lovingly and waved at him before grabbing your keys and opening the front door silently not to wake up your dad. You looked back one last time and saw Jake raising his fist in the air before getting in his truck and driving away.

THREE

You grabbed the keys from Jake's hand a ran to the house in front of you, screaming excitedly. You were 26 and he was 28 at that time. You'd been together for eight years and Jake was a Top Gun graduate, you were starting your own little bookshop in town, everything was going perfectly. So you decided to finally settle down together and when you found that adorable little house in this amazing neighborhood, you couldn't resist. You and Jake moved in California, next to the Miramar base, it was easier for him and a new adventure for you. Jake followed after you, running and laughing, asking you to slow down and wait for him. But you just couldn't wait, that was your first house with Jake, the first time you would live together. And you really hope it would be your last too, that you would start a family of your own in between these walls and hear children laughter in the backyard. You unlocked the front door before feeling strong arms wrapping around your waist and lifting you up from the floor and swooping you in his arms. He opened the door and walked in with you bridal style. "Home sweet home." He said before kissing you and putting you down on the floor. You smiled against his lips and pulled back, looking around you. The house was still empty, the moving trucks would bring everything the next day. You made sure to have the necessary today, as in a mattress and some food in the fridge.

"I can't believe we just did it. We have our own house." You wrapped your arms around his neck and looked up at him lovingly. "Our own home." He said in turn before dipping you and kissing you, making you giggle. He brought you back up but kept his lips on yours, parting your lips to taste you. He gently tapped your thigh and you jumped, wrapping your legs around his waist as he held you against him, his hands firmly on your ass. "Where's the bedroom again?" He asked between two heated kisses. You laughed and indicated the way and before you knew it, he got on his knees and laid you down on the mattress. You could feel the hardness of the floor under it but you didn't care. In just a matter of days, this place would be perfect and comfortable for the both of you. Jake's lips travelled down your jaw until they reached the pulse point behind your ear, making you whimper. You grabbed his shirt and tugged at it, trying to take it off of him. You just wanted to feel his skin against yours. His hands were everywhere but nowhere at the same time, they were roaming along his sides, you could feel his fingers toying with the hem of you shirt, which was extremely frustrating. "Stop teasing, Jake..." You closed your eyes and tugged on his shirt to help him get rid of it. He only chuckled and unbuckled his belt before you opened his pants and slid them down his legs with your feet, taking his boxer briefs with them along the way. He stepped back and kicked them off before returning to you.

You looked at him up and down, mostly down. His hard length at attention against his stomach. "I think you're a bit overdressed..." He cocked his head to the side and smiled down at you. "Then help me, Lieutenant." You murmured in his ear and bit on his earlobe, making him growl. His hands were back on your body and he nearly ripped your shirt out of you before unclasping your bra and taking your breast in his mouth. He swirled your left nipple around his tongue while he massaged your right breast in his hand. You arched your back, pushing your chest into his mouth and he started undoing your jeans. He slid his fingers into your panties and chuckled against your sensitive skin. "So wet already..." Two of his fingers gathered up your arousal and he started circling expectedly your clit. A lewd moan passed your lips and you grabbed his upper arm, squeezing the muscle to anchor yourself. His lips left your breast and he kissed his way down your body, sucking here and there before soothing the bruising skin with his tongue. "Jake..." You whimpered, getting impatient. "What is it, baby?" He glanced up at you, applying just the right pressure on your clit to make you mewl. "Just fuck me already... Please!" Your hand went down to run through his ruffled hair and tug at it. "Right away, Ma'am." He kissed the skin right under your navel and slid your jeans down your legs, discovering the lacy panties you were wearing. "So pretty, baby." His fingers left your clit to slide your panties to the side and he kept his face right in front of your cunt or what seemed to be hours for you. You were about to push your pussy on his face when you felt his tongue tasting you a first time, having you gasp his name. His hands kept your legs wide open while he started devouring you like a starved man.

"This is getting on my way, actually." He said before ripping your panties and throwing them over his shoulders. "Jake!" You shouted at him but he was already face buried in your cunt. "I'll buy you others." He groaned against you and a shiver ran down your spine, the vibrations of his voice bringing you close to the edge. He wrapped his arms around your thighs and you planted your heels on his shoulder blades. You tried to anchor yourself but it was all so overwhelming you couldn't do anything other than moaning and screaming his name. His nose would occasionally rub your clit, bringing you closer and closer to your release. But it's when his thumb started rubbing your bundle of nerves that you found yourself clenching and arching your back in ecstasy. Jake stayed buried in your thighs until the last moment, lapping at your cunt and swallowing everything to last drop you would give him. He rubbed your thighs to help you come down of your high and looked up at you with a loving gaze. You eventually looked down at him and smiled when you saw him resting his cheek on your thigh. "You with me, baby?" He planted a kiss on the inside of your thigh before crawling his way back up. You slid your hands on his cheeks and saw the way his lips glistened with your release. It was awfully hot. You pulled him in for a kiss, tasting yourself on his tongue and moaned, feeling the tip of his cock against your thigh. "Jake...?" You whispered between kisses. "Yeah, baby?" His lips were back on your neck, sucking softly the skin there. "Condom, now." You breathed out and he grinned. "At your service, Ma'am." He pulled away from you and dug into his bag by the side of the mattress, taking out a condom. He ripped it open with his teeth and immediately rolled it over his already sensitive length.

You bit your bottom lip and pulled him down, kissing him and reaching down to line him up with your entrance. He looked at you one last time before slowly pushing in, making the both of you moan. You felt him stretching you open, but in the best way possible. You gently rolled your hips to take him deeper and you mewled when his pubic bone rubbed against your clit. "Please, move..." You whimpered and he slightly pulled back before slamming his hips into yours, hitting that special spot deep inside you. Your hands started roaming along his back, scratching his skin and trying to hold on his firm shoulders. But nothing seemed to do the trick. His hips were slamming into yours, his cock reaching so deep and his lips sucking at your skin so deliciously you couldn't think straight. It was all so good but never enough. Your whimpers drew his attention and he pulled back from your neck, peppering kisses all over your face. "It's okay, you're okay... You're with me... I'm here, it's okay..." He whispered and brought your hands up above your face, interlocking your fingers with his. You squeezed his hand and seemed to relax and abandon yourself into the moment. Jake simply grinned and kissed you deeply before he felt your legs wrapping around his waist and holding him as close as possible.

FOUR

You smiled at your reflection in the mirror, sinking your teeth in your bottom lip to stop yourself from crying and ruining the incredible makeup the nice lady spent an hour perfecting. Your beautiful white dress conforming your curves and the veil attached to your hair were gonna drive Jake crazy when he's gonna see you. You looked up at the clock on the wall and breathed out, knowing it was almost time for you to walk down the aisle. Knocks on the door behind you were heard and you invited in the person on the other side, already knowing who it was. The door opened and your mom stepped into the room, closing the door behind her as she brought up her hands to her mouth in awe. "Oh my God, you look splendid..." She teared up. "Please don't cry. I've been trying not to for thirty minutes now." You turned to her and opened your arms to hug her. Your parents divorced when you were two and your mom moved out of the state, preferring the East coast to Texas. You hadn't seen her as much as you would've liked growing up but seeing her on the most important day of your life meant a lot. She met Jake a few times when you two visited her and she knew he was perfect for you. After nine years together, you were more than ready to say 'I do'.

You pulled back from the hug and looked at her. "I'm so glad you're here." You sighed in relief. You knew your parents couldn't be in the same room, they didn't leave things on the best terms. "I couldn't miss this in the whole world." She stroked your cheek and kissed your forehead. "You're nervous?" She asked you, stepping back a bit. You shook your head and beamed at her. "Not at all. I'm so excited to marry my best friend." You trampled on the spot. Your mom laughed at your attitude, it was like watching a child on Christmas morning. There was no doubt you were excited for today. "I'll let you be. Your dad is waiting for you at the door. And well... Your man is waiting for you at the altar." She gave you one last hug and left the room, leaving you to your thoughts. You turned to the mirror and lowered the veil on your face before joining your dad outside so he could take you to the aisle. "You look amazing, sweetie." He complimented you before kissing your cheek. "Ready to go?" He asked, presenting his arm for you. You nodded with a grin and wrapped your arm around his, holding firmly the bouquet in your other hand. Just before the last turn to enter Jake's sight, you stopped your father and grabbed the dress just above your breast. Your dad looked at your surprise when you readjusted your dress and laughed softly when you winked at him. "Gotta make a great impression for the first look." You took a deep breath and wrapped your arm around your father's and the both of you took your first steps on the aisle.

Your eyes immediately found Jake's at the end of the aisle and you smiled. His lips slightly parted in awe and he grinned. He looked so beautiful in his dress blues, he looked perfect. If you wanted to tease him later, you'd only have to say he teared up when he first saw you in your white dress but you wouldn't. Because you too teared up at this magical moment. You reached the altar and your dad kissed a last time your cheek before giving your hand to Jake. Your soon-to-be-husband helped you walking up the few steps of the altar and you gave your bouquet to your maid of honor before taking both of Jake's hands in yours. "Hey..." He mouthed when the priest started his speech. "Hi..." You mouthed back, all giddy. "You look phenomenal." He then mouthed, looking you up and down. "You look great too." You smiled at him. It was a silent conversation but it was more than enough for the two of you. It was only the two of you, holding hands on the most amazing day of your lives.

FIVE

Few years have passed since you both said 'I do' and you couldn't be happier. Well yes, you could. But that's in progress. You were now 29 and him 31. He was one of the best pilots in the Navy, if not the best one. And your bookshop was quite successful. Jake was deployed few months ago for a secret mission you couldn't know anything about and when he came back, he was another man. For a few days, you couldn't recognize your own husband but you talked it out and now he was back to normal. Before he left, the only thing he said was that it was probably the most dangerous mission he would ever have to do and to give him an extra reason to come back to you, you told him you wanted to stop taking the pill. That night, you barely slept but then he realized how much more it meant. You wanted to start a family with him and he needed to be there for you through it all. So he made it his personal mission to come back to you. And that's what he did, he came back to you after a month of deployment and you told him you were pregnant. He couldn't have been happier than when you showed him the blood analyze.

You were now fourteen weeks pregnant and both you and Jake were waiting impatiently this very date, knowing you could discover the gender of the baby around that time. You were laying on the chair, your shirt pulled up to show your small baby bump Jake couldn't keep his hands off. You discovered a whole new side of the man you loved when you got pregnant. He was so protective of you, so gentle. Even when you had sex, it never had been this gentle, this tender. You absolutely loved it. The doctor moved the ultrasound thing around your bump, first checking if everything was alright before turning over to you. "You wanna know the sex?" She smiled at you. You looked up at Jake whose eyes never left the screen, trying to see by himself. You chuckled and nodded your head, seeing that your husband was nowhere able to answer her. She turned back to the screen and pointed to a little something. "It's a girl. Congratulations." Jake looked down at your with teary eyes and took your hand in his. "We're having a baby girl?" He asked you, scared that his ears betrayed him. You nodded and wiped his teary eyes. "We're having a baby girl, Jake." You confirmed before he brought your hand to his lips and kissed the back of it.

"I'll leave you two alone for a bit, I'll be back in ten." The doctor pressed a few buttons and three copies of the ultrasound came out of the printer in the corner. She gave them to you and left the room. "We're having a girl!" Jake exclaimed as soon as the door was closed, making you laugh. "I think you owe Coyote twenty dollars, baby." You chuckled. Your husband wanted a baby girl but didn't believe at all that he would get one, so his best friend made the bet that he would. "I've never been happier to lose money." He rested his forehead against yours and took back your hands in his, holding them close to his face so he could kiss them whenever he wanted.

SIX

You woke up sooner in the night with back pain and when you tried to go to the bathroom, you groaned in pain as you felt a contraction in your lower stomach. It wasn't unusual at almost nine months of pregnancy but this time it was more painful. But minutes later, you had to wake up Jake hurriedly, telling him your water broke. His eyes shot open and it was like he'd never been asleep. He grabbed the bag you two started to pack and added some last minute stuff before driving you to the hospital, holding your hand to reassure you and comfort you. When you were waiting in the waiting area, he texted Coyote, his parents and yours. Your eyes were closed and your head was resting on Jake's shoulder, the nurse at the reception asked you some questions and told you it was too early for you to go in the delivery room. So you waited, in pain. Jake's hand rested on your knee and his other arm was around your shoulders. Occasionally you would let out growls and moans of pain, people looking at you as if you were some sort of animal. Jake would glare at them and then kiss your hair, murmuring praises in your ear.

After almost two hours of waiting, you heard your name called and a nurse came to check on you, asking how long the contractions were apart. She smiled and told you you could join a room in the resting time. Jake stood up and helped you getting on your feet before he heard his name called. He turned his head and saw Coyote running into the waiting area. "Hey, sorry I didn't see your text." He apologized. "It's the middle of the night. I'm glad you didn't see my text." Jake tapped his shoulder and his best friend helped you walking while Jake went to pay for the room you would stay in before going to the delivery room. Coyote and you followed the nurse and he helped you laying down on the bed, making sure you were comfortable. Jake came back quickly and was fast to be by your side, his hand immediately taking yours. "I called Mav and Cyclone to tell them you wouldn't show up today, or tomorrow." Coyote explained, stepping aside to give you some room. Another moan of pain slipped from your lips and Jake's attention was back on you. "Thanks, man." He quickly glanced at his friend before squeezing your hand. "You're doing amazing, baby. You're amazing, keep doing this and we'll have our baby girl sooner than planned." He kissed your knuckles and a nurse stepped into the room. "Keep praising her like this and all of this will only be a bad dream." She smiled at Jake.

You stayed three more hours in this room, Jake never leaving your side and never letting go of your hand one second. Coyote was the one getting you water or food. You got used to the contractions, to the pain so now if anyone would walk by the door, they'd think you're asleep and your husband is just watching over you. But you weren't and your husband was begging any deity he could take your pain. The nurse had connected a machine to your vitals to make sure everything went according to plan. Jake kept murmuring praises and kissing your hand until he heard the worst sound he could ever hear at that moment. The machine your were connected to started beeping aggressively and a nurse came running into the room, checking something before running back out, calling for a doctor. Coyote came back with two coffees and a panicked expression on his face. "I just saw your nurse running in the hallway, what's happening?" He asked as Jake kept looking at you up and down, looking or anything looking wrong to him. But you seemed fine. Oh no, the baby. The nurse came back into the room with your doctor and she checked the exact same thing the nurse did and she grabbed the breathing aid before putting it on your face. "What's wrong? What's happening?" Jake started to panic, still holding your hand. "Her blood pressure is going down." The nurse and the doctor stayed active around you and set up an I.V. Jake is so glad he's able to stay by your side but he's also very scared anything bad happen to his girls.

An hour later, your blood pressure seemed to go back to normal and you're moved to the delivery room, only Jake is allowed to follow. Coyote would be waiting for you in the waiting area and keep everyone updated with Jake's phone. Your legs were now spread open, the doctor checking if your body was ready for the delivery but every time she would pull back, she'd give you a tight smile and tell you to wait a bit more. The contractions were more painful and Jake was standing right behind you, his hands on your shoulders but still holding one of your hands, never letting go. But when the doctor lowered herself between your legs for the umpteenth time, she frowned, called for the nurse with a whisper and the lady nodded her head in agreement. "What? What's wrong?" Jake asked, seeing something wasn't right. "Your daughter isn't in a head-down position, I won't be able to deliver her properly without risking harming her of your wife." The doctor explained. "So what are we doing?" You asked with a weak voice before groaning at the contractions. "I recommend a c-section." And it was like a bomb going off in the room. Just the idea of a c-section made you sick. Jake leaned down to kiss your forehead and murmured in your ear. "You got this, okay? You can do it, baby. Look on the bright side, it'll be faster and less painful. We'll have our baby girl faster." He gently stroked your sweat-wet hair. "Dad's right, you won't feel anything and your daughter will be with you sooner than with a traditional delivery. The only downside is that it'll take you a bit more to recover." The doctor promised and you nodded your head. "Okay, let's do this. Let's have our baby girl." You looked up at Jake and he kissed the tip of your nose, making you smile.

You were moved to the surgical block, Jake allowed to come with you since you'd be conscious. The doctor was accompanied by two nurses who would assist her during the surgery. They gave you anesthetics and you soon felt nothing but calm in your body. A cloth was stretched between your face and your lower stomach so neither you or Jake could see the bloody part. Jake still held your hand, you couldn't remember how long it's been since he let go of your hand but the simple touch of his skin was reassuring you. The surgery was going well, and the doctors kept you updated on everything they were doing. Jake murmured praises in your ear and you only looked at him lovingly, feeling nothing but pure love for the man above you. You were feeling a little bit weak but you put that on the fact that your lower half was cut open. "I love you, Jake." You smiled at him and he looked down at you. "I love you too, baby. You're doing great." He kissed your forehead and stroked your hair out of your face. "Dad? You might want to come and see this." The doctor called and Jake walked around you, never letting go of your hand. The woman was holding the tiny baby in her arms, the umbilical cord still connecting to two of you. "We have a baby girl..." He breathed out, squeezing your hand and glancing at you. "You gave me a baby girl, she's beautiful..." You smiled at him and squeezed his hand in turn before he looked back at your daughter and the doctor gave him scissors to cut the cord himself. He did it with one hand, still holding yours with the other and one nurse took your daughter to go and get her all cleaned up.

"Alright, Mama. How are you holding up?" The doctor called above the cloth as Jake moved to go back behind you. "I'm feeling tired." You chuckled weakly and the doctor smiled. "It's normal. With the contractions and the anesthetics, it's completely normal to feel tired and weak." Everything was going great. You and Jake had a daughter, she was fine and you would be fine in a moment too. But the frown on the doctor's face said otherwise. Jake looked curiously the doctor's movements becoming more rushed and he knew something was wrong. The machine next to them started beeping and he immediately looked down at you. "Hey, baby... Keep your eyes open, okay? We're almost done." He tried to keep you awake but could see how weak you were. "I'm tired, Jake..." You sighed. "I know, baby. I know... But you're doing so good... Doc! What's happening?" He looked up at the doctor who kept asking for gauzes to the nurse. She didn't answer him, focused on what she was doing and Jake started to panic. He looked down at you and stroked your cheek, trying to stimulate you to keep you awake. "Baby? Hey, Y/N... Stay with me, okay? You better stay with me!" His voice started quivering and his eyes teared up. He looked back up at the doctor and was about to ask her what was happening when he felt it. He looked down at you and more precisely at your hand slipping from his. He held it tighter but you were not squeezing anymore. And then the flatline.

BONUS

Jake didn't know how long the curtains had been closed or when was the last time he ate a real meal. Olivia would wake him up from his 2 hour night of sleep, crying and screaming and he would stay in bed for another hour, just listening to his daughters cries, hoping you would swoop in and feed her, change her diaper or just comfort her. But you never did, so he'd get up and go to the nursery, lean over the crib and take his crying daughter in his arms, purposely avoiding looking into her teary eyes because they looked just like yours. He'd walk to the kitchen and prepare her bottle, keeping her against his shoulder and swaying calmly to try and appease her cries. "Come on, Liv'. Be good for Daddy and shut your pretty little mouth. Please..." After the bottle was warm, he checked on his wrist if it wasn't too hot, just like Penny taught him and he went to sit on the couch, turning the crying baby in his arms and he led the pacifier right between her rosy lips. She stopped crying for a moment and Jake threw his head back against the couch, enjoying the silence. His eyes teared up and before he could wipe his cheek with his shoulder, Olivia started crying again.

He sighed and put aside the bottle before holding the baby closer to him and gently tapping her back. Just like Penny taught him. But he wished you were the one teaching him all of this. He wished you would both learn how to take care of a baby, your baby together, as a couple. But he was learning alone, and he was learning terribly. What kind of father would let his daughter cry for hours just because he didn't want to have a reminder his partner in life wasn't there with him? He tapped her back until she burped, making Jake slightly smile. "That's my good girl..." He walked up to the bathroom and glance at the bag with all the products you used. He couldn't throw away everything you owned, he just couldn't. He laid the baby down on the changing table and avoided looking into her eyes before he started opening her onesie, one that you picked at the store because there's a plane on it and you wanted your daughter to grow up with things related to her dad. Jake changed his daughter's diaper and dressed her up in a pretty little green dress. Just as he was about to grab her under her arms, he stopped in his tracks, completely frozen when he felt it. Her little hand, those tiny fingers wrapped around his big middle finger. The warmth of her hand was the same as yours, even though her skin was way softer and fragile than yours. His breath got caught in his throat and turned into a sob. His eyes teared up and he let out a whimper before falling to his knees. His finger still held so tight by his daughter. He just couldn't keep the tears to himself, so he let it all out, sobbing and weeping on the bathroom floor.

[gubbles-owo]

so @lilyblackdrawside and i were discussing how the heck manticore sleeps with that massive scorpion tail... sleeping on her stomach feels like it'd be uncomfortable, and it'd just leave her tail to drape off the bed. i didn't think a standard mattress could be modified to accommodate her comfortably (boring a hole in the damn thing ain't exactly feasible, yk?) so lily suggests that, rather than a traditional bed, she'd have a heated sandpit. IMAGINE IT lightly knocking on her dorm door with "hey manti, you awake?", u poke your head in and take a look... the sandpit in the corner appears to be empty. but suddenly the sand begins to stir and shift, and the two little headwings and tip of tail poking out fizzle into view...

she half-crawls out all sleepytired and rests her chin on the edge (i don't imagine she's a morning person), eyes crusted with sand and not at all ready to get up anytime soon. IT'S FUCKIN CUTE AAAAAAAUUAOIUEOHGOAHIGHSPAFH also! consider the following:

[ohtobeleah]

Was It Over? // Jake Seresin

-> Chapter Eleven: [The Man]

Summary: When Jake and Jensen go head to head over who means what yo you, things escalate to new heights, so much so that Jake lashes out and says something that may not be forgiven.

Warnings: Sick!reader. Breast cancer diagnosis. Jake Seresin x F!reader. Angst, hospital & medical inaccuracies. SLOW BURN ROMANCE/ Inaccurate medical information. Relationship turmoil. Mentions of religion. JEALOUS JAKE!

Word Count: 5.6K

Author Note: This chapter brings the total word count of this series to 50k....I cannot believe that an idea that began as a one-shot has turned into this. Thank you all so much for your support on this one. xxx

Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist

There was a brief moment right before your shower where Jake was able to step out into the hall to call his sister Jasmine. He knew the call he was about to make was going to be neither short, nor pleasant. But he also knew that deep down, you weren’t mentally prepared to tell your children you were sick. But the pair of you had to start somewhere. And that somewhere was Jake’s sister. 

“What the FUCK is going on!” One single ring. One dial. That's how long it took Jake's sister to answer, hell, Jake thought it would have been sooner but he gave her a little good grace for potentially having to step out of whatever family dynamic she found herself in. “Mum said Y/n’s sick?” 

“Did she say it like that?” Jake replied unamused as he found an empty chair to sit on in the waiting room area down the hall. He didn't want to stray too far away from your room. Although he knew that you were with the nurses, he couldn't find it inside himself to leave. If Jake tried hard enough, he could still see your bed socks at the end of your hospital bed. 

“Uh–” Jasmine's apprehensive silence confirmed all Jake needed to know. “She may have said it with a little hope in her chest, mentioned the words dropped and dead in the same sentence of wishful thinking.” Jake couldn’t say he was surprised after the way Janeen had spoken so poorly about you directly to his face. He couldn't really imagine what she’d been saying to other members of the Seresin family. “But what's going on? I'm keeping an eye on the kids as much as I can but holy shit mum's just on a warpath–” 

Fuck: Jake knew leaving the kids behind was a bad idea on his behalf. The guilt of running off on his children in the middle of the night was beginning to eat him alive. The idea of lying to them about your condition only made that guilt harder to rationalise. 

“Okay, can you just promise me you won’t tell the kids?” Jake groaned into the phone. “Y/n doesn't want them to worry so she doesn't want to say too much.” 

“Jake–” Jasmine's voice changed, the serious nature of the conversation at hand was beginning to shine through with ease. “She's alright, isn't she?” Jasmine asked as Jake let his elbows rest on top of his thighs. This whole situation, the newly found world of which you were living in was begging to give Jake the head spins. Keeping up was exhausting, but this wasn't about Jake now was it. “This is Y/n we’re talking about, she has to be alright.”

Unbeknownst to you, Jake had been reading all your files, all your reports, everything and anything he could get his hands on about your diagnosis. After all, he had been named your emergency contact not long after showing up. He’d made a convincing case. Jake knew a lot about your current situation. He knew the odds, chances, risks and possibilities. 

“She's been diagnosed with Stage three A, triple positive grade three invasive doctoral carcinoma.” Jake explained to his sister who on the other end of the call, sat watching his youngest try to eat the sand from the sandpit Jake himself used to shit in as a child. “The oral chemo they had her started on caused a stroke, apparently it's a common side effect, to me they shouldn't be pumping people full of that crap if its gonna cause a fucking stroke forty percent of the time.” 

Jake knew the silence on the other end of the line was due to an overload of information getting caught in his sister's cerebellum. It was a lot to take in, hell Jake still hadn’t really been given an opportunity to take it all in. since he found out he’d been go go go. He knew an impending moment of weakness mixed with overall exhaustion was coming. When that moment would come he wasn't sure. 

“You’re lying–” Was all Jasmine said. Jake wished more than anything he could say he was. 

“Fucked up thing to lie about Jas–” Jake responded softly as he listened to the hustle and bustle of the hospital wing his sat in. “She hadn’t been feeling well for a few months, Doctors say it's aggressive, feeds off her hormones and stuff.” Jake didn't understand a lot of it, but he was trying his best to navigate a field he wasn't an excerpt in. “She's in for a preventative double mastectomy on Christmas Eve. It would've been earlier but the strokes kinda set her back a few days.” 

“Jake– I don't believe you, the kids–what about the kids, what do I tell them?” Jasmine couldn't comprehend the devastation this would cause on the already struggling family dynamic. You and Jake were meant to be, everyone knew that. But this whole separation, the miscommunication and overall fractures within your marriage were all major contributing factors as to why love just couldn’t be enough.

“Don't tell them anything, please, for the love of God Jas don't tell them anything, I just–” Jake let out a sigh of frustration as he ran his hand free hand through his hair. God he needed a haircut. “We just need a little time to process what's going on and Y/n–she's been doing this for too long on her own, I can’t keep letting her down so just, take a moment to breathe for me.” 

“Holy fuck you aren’t kidding about any of this are you?” Jasmine with all her good graces and problematic marital issues of her own, looked over at where her husband sat with hers and Jake's father. The sight was enough to send a shiver down her spine. The man who raised her was not someone who Jasmine ever wanted her brother to become. Losing your wife to such a disease that was as unforgiving as it was inhumane could potentially be an origin story bubbling under the surface of Jake's skin. 

“Jake–You don't get to turn into dad if this ends anything less than Y/n walking away from this cancer free Jake, your kids deserve to have a dad that won't treat them like burdens and mistakes.” 

***~***~***~***~***~***~**

“Watch your step alright?” Our skulls are designed to cushion our brains. Our rib cages are specifically moulded to guard our hearts. The human body is built to protect our most vulnerable parts. At least, that’s how it’s supposed to work. 

The way in which Jake helped to guide you out of the bathroom with his hand pressed firmly against the small of your back made your heart skip a beat. You held tightly onto his forearm with one hand and in the other? Was your IV poll, still pumping you full of antibiotics and fluids. 

“I got it.” You tried to focus on just putting one foot in front of the other. That's what this whole thing was about right? This battle, this fight. It was all about putting one foot in front of the other. With Jake by your side, albeit with some underlying resentment still to be discussed, you felt as though those steps, small but meaningful in their own right, were made with intent and purpose to keep fighting. “Shit the air-con feels so weird on my head.” You chuckled to yourself as Jake shut the bathroom door behind the both of you. 

“Yeah holy shit it's like–” As Jake's eyeline faltered from you to the figure standing over near the door, his heart sunk into his stomach. His face turned to stone as the green in his eyes, usually an emerald colour, darkened to something more pine-like. The half finished sentence that left your husband's mouth and tailed off into complete and utter silence was what got your attention the most. It wasn't like Jake to not say what was on his mind. 

“What's up?” As you turned your head slowly, you saw the man who had been nothing but a pillar of support for you to lean on since your diagnosis. It was the man who had kept you above water when you felt like you’d been drowning in a sea of unprecedented mortality. “Jensen–” The shock and excitement in your tone was something Jake couldn't miss no matter how much he wanted to. “You came?” 

Jake made no attempt to move as you shuffled forward, he stood still with his heart hammering inside his chest. He stood completely still as his thoughts carried him away into a world where nothing made sense to anyone. Into a world where he didn't have you, a world where for the last year he’d tasted of that very misery and hated every last second of it. 

“I uh–” Jensen held out the bouquet of sweet peas, peonies and pansies he’d brought for you. The overwhelming colours and signature scents captivated the entire room with their freshness. “I wanted to stop by, see how you were doing, hope I'm not intruding?” 

The body tends to adapt quickly to new circumstances and pressures it’s put under. It knows how to protect itself. But it can’t close off completely, or well—we’re not really living are we? Biology tends to override our fears, so we leave the door open, just a little…hoping like hell that it's worth the risk. 

“Oh no, no we just finished up some DIY haircuts.” You beamed, the smile that ignited across your face was a smile Jake hadn't seen in years. A smile so pure and full of love that it couldn't ever be faked. “Jake, this is Jensen.” You introduced the two men who had played significant roles in your life, having no clue that they had both already met one another in the hall. “We met at the doctors office, as unfortunate as that sounds, it's been really nice to have someone who just, knows.” Jake slowly but surely aided you over to your bed before he made his way over to where Jensen stood watching idly. Assessing the situation unfolding before him. “Jensen convinced me to go to a few of those CCA meetings, although not my cup of tea–it's nice to know that that support system is there.” 

Jake eyed Jensen and his bouquet of flowers off as he stepped closer and closer with a look Jensen couldn't quite read in his pine green eyes. The betrayal of love often has boundaries that people end up living with for the rest of their lives. For Jake, his betrayal and the consequences of his emotional ineptitude inside his marriage was starting to play out right before his very eyes. 

He saw the potential that there was in fact another man. And oh boy did he hate it. 

“And Jensen, this is Jake, my husband.” Jensen took subtle notice of the way you introduced Jake to him as your husband, not your ex-husband like you'd been referring to him as since the two of you first met. Something had changed, Jensen could sense it. But for as much as Jensen could sense the chemistry between you and Jake, Jake could see the way your eyes lit up with overjoyous surprise when you realised that the flowers Jensen held in his hand were in fact for you. “Are those, are those for me?” 

“Oh–yeah.” Jensen beamed as he walked a little further into your room. “I thought they might bring a little light into your room but it seems that you have it pretty well decorated.” It was the small nod to the Christmas lights that hung around your room that made you smile even brighter as Jake made his way back over and helped you into bed. You could tell there was tension brewing just from his quietness alone. “And the new haircut suits you, good thing you don't have a weird ass head huh?”

“Hey Jarred–” Jake interrupted before you had a chance to reply, the way he intentionally called Jensen by a different name rubbed you the wrong way. The frown that cast itself across your face left little to Jake's imagination, but as he made sure you were as comfortable as could be in your bed, he kept going. “Nows, probably not a good time–” 

Jensen looked around your room carefully, he knew the system well and what times were more common than not for nurses to do their daily rounds and check-ins. He knew that by the looks of things you had just showered and were probably settling in for the afternoon. If Jensen was correct in his assumption as he looked back towards where Jake stood at your bedside, he would assume that he couldn't have picked a better time to drop by. 

“Seems like a pretty good time to me man, besides, why don't we let Y/n here make that call.” Jensen replied calmly as he went about finding a place for your flowers to go. Jensen could have played the safe card, he could have chosen to be the bigger person and not mention it, but he didn't really have a hell of alot to lose. After all, he was a dead man walking. What was the harm in stirring the pot a little where he still could. “Honestly, I didn't expect you to be here if I'm being completely honest.” Jensen smirked as he turned back to face Jake. You felt like your heart was about to explode right through your chest as you looked back and forth between the two men who had seemingly gotten into a mines bigger than yours contest on either side of your bedside. “Didn't think you knew your wife was sick–” 

The silence was deafening as Jake thought about all the ways he could kill a man in one single motion. The rage he felt inside his chest was red hot jealousy. Jensen could practically see the steam spewing out of Jake's years. 

“What my wife decides to share with me has nothing to do with you–” Jake growled, you could just see the way he was grinding his teeth. Jake's jawline had never seemed more profound. His knuckles were almost entirely white as he leaned against the railing of your hospital bed. Lowered down for convenience of getting in and out. 

“It does when I’ve been the one listening to how much she wishes you loved her the same way she loves you.” Jensen shrugged. “Come on man, don't play this game, don't pretend that I don't know what been going on–” 

“Enough!” You couldn't have shouted it slider if you tried. “Both of you, my god we’re all supposed to be adults here?” You sighed as you looked at Jake and then over to Jensen. Something was off with him, this wasn't the Jensen you knew. He seemed off, very off. “Can you two just back up, let's start over.” However, it was a plea that fell on deaf ears.

Remember that impending moment of weakness mixed with overall exhaustion Jake mentioned earlier? Yeah– about that. Guess it was coming around the corner sooner rather than later. 

“Nah–” Jake shook his head as he let out a sigh. This was bullshit, you really had him fooled. He really did think that there was a possibility here that maybe, just maybe, the two of you could fix what he had unintentionally broken while focusing on your health. “Nah, I'm not gonna put up with this dickhead.” Jake hissed as unclenched his hands from the railing on your bed. “I'm gonna go get a coffee, try not to catch each other's cancer cells while I'm gone.” 

“Jake, don't leave!” You begged as you sat up a little straighter in your bed. “Please—“ The panic that followed was something otherworldly as you watched Jake round out of the hospital room that had become your home away from home. “Please!” 

Jensen was if anything, enraged. He hadn’t helped the situation but he never would have left your side after making a remark so thickly lacquered with jealousy. He didn't think Jake would react the way he did, so quick to make assumptions. The small gift Jensen still held in his hand was quickly placed on your bedside table. 

“I’ll go talk to him—“ Jensen pressed his lips together as he let his hand fall gently to your shoulder. “My fault, I shouldn't have said what I did, I'm sorry.” Jensen didn't pretend to not see how upset you truly were. He understood what it was like to feel the weight of the world crushing your spirit. “He didn't mean what he said Y/n.” 

“He did–” You sighed as you wiped away your tears. “He asked me when he came to take the kids to his mum's house if I was seeing anyone–” 

Ah, Jensen thought to himself as he stood by your bedside and listened. 

“He wants to get back together, fix what's broken, change.” You sighed as you looked over to the open door that Jake hadn't long before walked out of. “He probably thinks you're more than a friend.” In another life, perhaps Jensen could have been more than just a good friend. In another universe somewhere he hoped that maybe you never had this unforgiving disease. But this wasn't another reality, this was right now. 

“All the more reason to fight for his girl.” Jensen cooed as he leaned in to kiss the top of your now very smooth head. “I'll go talk to your husband.” 

You caught onto the not so subtle subtlety of the way Jensen teased that title. Husband. Jake Seresin was still very much your husband. He was the very definition of a man who was supposed to be at your side through thick and thin. But right now? You were doubting his ability to fully comprehend what was happening to you. Jake’s focus shouldn’t have been on Jensen and who he was to you. But yet you couldn’t not defend him. 

“He’s not a bad guy, he’s really not—“ There was an awkward silence that lingered in the room as Jensen chose to take in what you’d said. “This is all just so much for him to take in.” 

“You don’t need to explain your relationship to me.” Jensen wanted to say that if Jake was such an alright guy, then you wouldn’t have left. He wanted to remind you of all the conversations the two of you had had over the past few months. All the times you’d cried about the man who didn’t value your time, your energy, your love. “But a woman like you should never have to beg a man to stay.” 

“I left him.” You felt the need to remind the man who stood at your bedside with an ora surrounding him you didn’t recognise. “I stopped begging him to love me a long time ago and you know that.” 

Jensen could have thrown the fact you just called out after Jake back in your face, that you’d begged your husband not to leave. But he wasn’t that mean. He was just looking out for you. Someone had to. Someone had to make sure this Jake guy had his priorities in check and that you were at the very top of that list where you belonged. 

“I know—“ Jensen pressed his lips together into a fine line. “But that guy just walked out the second things got a little more complicated, what’s gonna stop him from throwing in the towel if your health declines more than it already has?” Jensen shrugged his shoulders like he wasn’t being nasty. It was his version of tough love. 

“I’m sorry—“ You scoffed as your face contorted into that of a frown mixed with frustration. “Are you, are you testing Jake?” 

“Cancer is one of the world's most leading causes of divorce.” Jensen added like it was a statistic you should have known. He knew you knew it. “I just wanted to see how well he handled a little external pressure.” 

“You’re—“ Before you could finish your sentence, Jensen was smiling down at you from ear to ear. 

“A menace, I know, but I’m a menace that only has your best interest at heart.” Jensen explained as he sat down beside you for only a brief moment. “Your fight isn’t with Jake right now, he shouldn’t be fighting you or anyone else in your life that may come and go.” 

“Jensen—“ You knew Jensen hadn’t been well, but he hadn’t explicitly told you how bad it was. There was something in his eyes though, the way he looked at you like he was looking at you for the last time that had you worried. “What’s going on with you?” 

“I’m just making sure if you’re letting that man back into your life that he’s gonna stick around when things don’t go the way he wants them to.” Jensen smiled softly as he picked up your hand to bring towards his lips. He left a fleeting kiss upon the palm of your hand and let out a sigh he wasn’t aware he was holding in. “I’ll go track down your sook of a husband, make sure he’s aware that you’re hopelessly devoted or whatever you wanna call it.” 

“Please be nice—“ You pleaded gently as Jensen stood from your bedside. “Please.” 

“Anything for you Y/n.” Jensen replied, he knew that this would be the last time he ever saw you apart from in his own version of heaven. “Anything for you.” 

***~***~***~***~***~***~*

Jake Seresin had never been a fan of hospitals. That mentality first started when he broke his leg in kindergarten and needed a full cast, but it grew with him well into adulthood. Jake had never liked hospitals, even when all three of his children were born he still hated them. Not even the love he had for his children could override the hate he felt towards the sterile environment that gave far too many infections to people to be considered ‘normal’ 

“Seresin.” But Jake had never hated hospitals more than he did the second he heard his last name being called from just a short distance down the hall. Called by a man who Jake would happily like to never see again. “The hell is your problem?” Jake caught the sight of the man who’d brought you flowers coming right towards him with a fire burning in his eyes. The man you had kept somewhat a secret from Jake. Much like your diagnosis. 

“My problem is asking me what my problem is.” Jake groaned as he took a sip of his shitty ass hospital coffee. “Don’t you and my wife have things to talk about?” Jake asked as he took a few steps away from where Jensen had stopped in his tracks. “Things I’m not privy to as it seems? Like her health or new love life?” 

“You don’t even know who I am to your wife!” Jensen barked loud enough to have Jake stopping in the middle of the hall. The six foot something aviator turned slowly on his heels to give the almost matching in height bald dude the time of day he seemed to crave. “But I know all about you, because I’ve been there for Y/n while you’ve been busy playing part time parent across the country.” Jensen had nothing to lose, he was just a dying man who had no time left to cherish. 

Jake wasn’t about to stand here and take this. He didn’t need some guy who’d stepped into your life to tell him what to do. You were the mother of Jake’s children, you’d always be that to him regardless if he could fix what he broke. 

“Get out of my face before you need a plastics consult.” Jake growled through gritted teeth all the while Jensen grinned. He was standing his ground as Jake continued on his defensive. “Because so help me god, you may feel like god right now with your self-righteous heart and knight in shining armour attitude, but you sure as hell won’t feel all high and mighty when you meet him.” 

Jensen didn't want to fight with your husband, but he did want to make it known that time was forever fleeting, and if Jake kept going the way he was there would be no time left to fix what he broke. You needed someone to be there for you, Jake had to be that person. 

Because Jensen couldn’t be that guy for you anymore, he had no fight left to give you. He had no fight left in himself. 

“You know I sympathise with you Jake, I do, it must be hard being the guy who broke your own marriage to a woman who loves so fiercely and so much.” Jensen started as he let his elbows rest atop his sweatpants clad knees. “And now having to deal with the fact that said wife is dying must be a lot to work through.” 

Jake remained speechless as his eyes lingered down to the man who was almost out of breath from his walk through the halls. He held his half drunk coffee cup in his hand with enough rage coursing through his veins that Jake was actually surprised he hadn’t crushed the flimsy cardboard vessel. 

“But you know what the worst part of all that is? Is that your priority isn’t your wife, or fixing your marriage—“ Jensen continued on. “No, it’s on the guy who your wife chose to confide in when you were nowhere to be found.” 

“You don’t know what you’re talking about.” Jake replied with a hiss in his tone that mimicked the deadliest of snakes. “I couldn’t give a shit who you are to her or what you want, because she’s my fucking wife—mine!” 

“And yet here you are arguing that point with me in the hall when you could be at her bedside appreciating all the small moments you’ll be lucky to look back on one day.” Jensen grew more heated as Jake took a few strides his way, towering over where Jensen sat. “You threw a fit the second I stepped into that room without using any critical thinking skills you aviators claim to have in the heat of the moment.” 

“She told me she wasn’t seeing anyone! Come to find out that that’s—“ Jake didn’t get a chance to finish his sentence before Jensen intervened that train of thought. 

“She’s not! You’re wife fucking love’s you!! She kept her prognosis from you because she was so scared you didn’t love her back enough to fucking care! And you’re hung up on the idea she’s seeing someone? Me!?” Jensen scoffed as he stood, the few strides he took towards Jake were made with intent behind every single one. Enough to have Jake stumbling back every so slightly. “Here’s a concept for you man.” Jensen pressed his index finger into Jake’s sternum. “Maybe, just maybe, if I was sleeping with your wife, she’d remember her worth.” 

“You really don’t know what you’re talking about.” Jake sighed, there was no way he was entertaining this delusion any more than he already had. “I think you should leave.” The idea of you being with another man sent Jake into a blind rage of jealousy that saw no reason. But at the end of the day, he was the one who walked out on you. He’d strayed too far from your hospital room and couldn’t see your bed socks anymore. 

Fuck….

“Maybe, maybe I should—“ Jensen agreed. “And hell I don’t even know you at all, but from what I’ve managed to piece together? it’s that you're a crap husband who doesn’t have the emotional capacity to handle the fact his wife could lose this battle.” Jensen retaliated with a stone cold expression. “But something I do know is that no amount of prayer or candles or begging will reverse time, so put your ego side and focus on the fact your wife needs you now more than ever before and if you leave her side the way you did today ever again, trust me when I say you’ll regret it every day of your life.” 

“Y/n isn’t dying—“ Much like Jensen was taking his fear of the unknown out on Jake, Jake was just about ready to let loose on the guy who was picking apart his very character. Sure, Jake recognised he wasn’t the best husband, but he also knew you weren’t dying. Not right now, not while he wasn’t by your side. 

“I wasn’t either, but as it turns out we all have an expiry date.” Jensen replied. The atmosphere and energy surrounding the two men who were going head to head suddenly shifted. “Some sooner than others, but we all have one, and when yours is up yours is up and there ain't nothing you can do you extend it.” 

“You’re—“ Jake couldn’t bring himself to say it. 

“A walking corpse.” Jensen finished the sentence he knew Jake was trying to speak into existence. Although he didn’t care to beat around the bush. “So trust me when I tell you that wishful thinking does shit when your body decides it’s had enough.” 

“Does Y/n know?” Jake's first worry was how this news, how this detrimental turn of events, would affect you. His heart forgot how to beat inside his chest when he watched Jensen shake his head in response. 

“She needs to focus on her own journey, and before I go I need to make sure she has a support system because for a while there I was all she seemed to have.” Jensen explained. There it was, the truth of the matter. 

Jake saw it clear as day, the care, the worry, the intention to make sure you had someone there for you because Jensen wasn’t going to be there anymore. You may not have slept with the guy standing before Jake but if Jake knew anything, it was the look of a man who was unequivocally in love with you. He saw his own reflection of Jensen's eyes. 

“Go back, apologies, and you fix your marriage man because that woman? That electrifying woman who sees the good in everything doesn’t deserve to go through this alone—and you turning your back on her the second someone made things a little difficult for you isn’t a good representation of the husband she deserves.” 

“You love her, don’t you?” Jake asked as he took a second to truly take in Jensens whole argument. The world seemed to go on around them, with doctors and nurses carrying out their daily duties and rounds. Family members walking to and from rooms visiting loved ones. But for Jake and Jensen? The world stopped when it came to you. “You’re in love with my wife, say it.” Jake couldn’t hide the pain in his voice. “Tell me you love her, then this all makes sense.” 

“Maybe—“ Jensen tried to play his love for you down into something that was just a social construct. “Maybe I love her, but I don’t get a chance to explore that, you do though.” Jensen was truly trying to hide the pain in his eyes, but Jake could see it all too easily. Jensen knew that. “So if not for yourself, for her, pull your head out of your ass man—“

“I never stopped loving her though.” Jake sighed out in frustration as he sat down on one of the plastic hospital chairs that lined the hallway. Jensen followed soon after, both men decided that the heat of the argument was settling into something more valuable. “I just—I lost sight of what I had.” 

“That’s just not a good enough excuse.” Jensen replied as he let his head fall back against the wall. “Listen, I don’t plan on coming back after I leave today.” 

Jake didn’t respond, he simply waited for Jensen to explain. But the explanation never came and Jake never pressed. If anything he was kind of relieved in a selfish way. 

“If you truly want to fix what’s broken, if you really want to fight for her and be by her side when she needs you the most, you’ll get up and you’ll go back in there and you’ll be the guy who gets to hold her like no one else does.” Jensen pauses momentarily before he continued on. “Because there’s better guys out there Jake, and she shouldn’t have to settle for one who doesn’t appreciate what’s right under his damn nose.” 

“Is this your way of telling me you’re a better man than me?” Jake asked cautiously, a part of him didn’t want the answer to be yes. But Jake needed to know what the man sitting beside him truly thought. You saw something good inside him, inside both of them.

“I’m not a better man than you Jake—“ Jensen sighed as he stood from his chair. It was getting late, he had said his peace, he had put the fear for a dying man inside Jake Seresin. There wasn’t much more Jensen could contribute to your life besides what he had already given. 

The body tends to adapt quickly to new circumstances and pressures it’s put under. It knows how to protect itself. But it can’t close off completely, or well—we’re not really living are we? Biology tends to override our fears, so we leave the door open, just a little…hoping like hell that it's worth the risk. But for Jensen….He was ready to close the door and lock it shut. 

“I’m just a man who’s run out of time and has nothing left to lose.”

***~***~***~***~***~***~

Tags: @blindedbythelightt @starset21 @tayl0rhuynh @mamachasesmayhem @marvelogic @itsmytimetoodream @maverick-wingman @kodzukenmaaa @eternalsams @seitmai @nota-professional @jessicab1991 @hardballoonlove @senawashere @fanficfandomlove @withahappyrefrain @dizzybee03 @maisie-rebloging-blog

@goldenseresinretriever @a-reader-and-a-writer @sunlightmurdock @shelbycillian @memoriesat30 @accioprocrastination @the-aspiring-fanfic-writer @athenabarnes @eternallyvenus @emma8895eb @kmc1989

[diiaf]

Paranatural Theory: It's All Connected

Paranatural fans, how are we feeling?

I’m a bit late to the Peekaboo party, but in light of the latest reveal, I’m taking the opportunity to put my harebrained theory of everything out into the world. The evidence is tenuous, but if I was right about Peekaboo, then maybe there’s something to it–and the confirmation that Peekaboo is (somehow) connected to the wight is just more evidence.

Here’s my theory:

Peekaboo, Sandman, and the Shadow Spirit are all parts of Mayview’s Great Wight that broke apart after Spender [edit: and Davy, see the bottom of the post] shattered it. That Wight... is Boss Leader.

Let me explain.

Part 1: The Connections

this is 7 parts long so I put in a read more, click at your own risk

(I made this image before the latest chapter reveal but I don’t feel like editing it)

Tendrils: As seen in the merch store sticker, Peekaboo seems to have the same tentacle-y powers that Boss Leader does. Spender’s shadow also uses tendrils, albeit the shadows of tendrils. Is this just a hallmark of Wight powers, as suggested by King Catnine, or is there something more? I’ll elaborate on this later.

Black Tears: Peekaboo seems to have the same darkness inside that that shadow spirit does. It’s been pointed out that Peekaboo could fit neatly inside the hole in Spender’s Shadow’s face—maybe Spender’s blast separated the part from the whole. Spender drips this same black ooze from his eyes, as seen after he wakes from the dream where he met Dr. Burger and Sandman. That’s important for later.

Same Pose: Peekaboo and the Shadow are peeking out from behind their medium in the exact same pose. Coincidence? …yeah, maybe. But why does the Shadow have its left eye here? Why is it in the shape of a mask? A crescent moon? A human mask? What moon-shaped creature would want to appear human? I’ll get to that later.

Wrrrrr: Again, I made this image before it was confirmed that Davy somehow had Peekaboo’s powers, but that was obvious, what with their space warping using the same sound effect. However, Dimitri uses Peekaboo to warp himself, whereas Davy warps the space around him (unless maybe he warped his chin? He looks pretty different from his first appearance). So maybe Peekaboo isn’t all that’s in the locker.

Why do Davy and Dimitri have access to different applications of the same power? Peekaboo's spirit trance Halloween decorations resemble the PTA members, which it could see if it were somehow Davy's spirit too. What’s odd to me is that the Burgers' key didn’t seem like it would fit into the locker—did it open up the dream door? Is that door “real?” Real in the spirit world? Maybe that’s why the locker’s padlock has an eye on it: because the real keyhole is kept in Boss Leader’s dream, behind the door that the Witch eventually summons. Lots of unanswered questions here.

Sand: The locker is either buried in sand, or rising up from it. Sandman seems to rise up from the sandpit in the dream in much the same way. Knowing that Peekaboo is the locker spirit is more evidence that there’s a connection between Peekaboo and Sandman.

Moon Motif (there’s no yellow text highlight): Spender’s shadow is shaped like a crescent moon. Sandman’s whole design is crescent moons. This ties into some other things that I’ll explain later.

🏳️‍⚧️: Sandman is Boss Leader. Sandman didn't choose its name. Boss Leader is the name and form she prefers. Do I really have to spell this one out? I'll address this more in part 2.

To recap: Peekaboo, Sandman, and the Shadow all share some important aspects, namely reality-warping powers and design motifs. Peekaboo seems to be the spirit in Davy's locker, a.k.a. the Great Wight, that was also sealed behind the door in the Consortium's dream.

Part 2: Large Subterranean Insect

How many people remember this thing?

It swoops in for ONE PAGE, saves Max from falling off the ghost train, and departs. Paranatural’e biggest unsolved mystery… until now.

Suitsie Zipper: The Large Subterranean Insect appears on chapter, 4 page 105 to save Max. Boss leader shows up for the first time 8 pages later in Max’s dream. The zipper on the insect’s body resembles the zippers on the consortium’s suitsies. Could the insect merely be a consortium agent? Maybe, but it’s a spirit, not a medium, and all the agents are mediums.

Crescents: Look at Sandman’s head. It’s the same shape as the LSI’s spiky legs. Now look at Spender’s spirit’s tendrils! Have we been confusing insect legs for squid tentacles this whole time?

Granted, when the spirit breaks loose and attacks Max and Isabel on page 138 the tendrils are more octopus-like, but Boss Leader’s dream-tendrils are squiddy as well. The spirit is spiky, the powers are squishy? I know this is a stretch.

Injury: Why does the LSI have that red mark? The Paranatural wiki claims that it's an eye. Maybe. If you ask me, it looks like a scar. A scar shaped like the sparkles that Spender makes when he uses Lucifer’s light powers. When Spender blasted the Lake Spirit (stripping away a shadowy disguise?) maybe it left a scar…

Reddit user DeadMountainDaughter made the connection between BL and the LSI (and compiled a lot of other information that inspired this theory) in a post on the Paranatural subreddit 5 months ago, so credit to her for that.

We know for sure that Boss Leader isn't human. The tragic backstory that she tells Spender and Mina about being forced into eternal slumber is (probably) complete bunk. As King Catnine discovers, "Boss Leader" is the conjured-up puppet of the Wight known as Sandman. Sandman, however, is not the name it chose. Its preferred form, and name, is that of Boss Leader. Can a spirit have gender dysphoria? The answer seems to be yes. Moreover, Sandman's Wight Wail is "PLEASE DON'T BE SCARED." She wants people to like her! She wants to be human! But she can't have that anymore. Not since...

Part 3: The Incident

Using the evidence we’ve been given so far, here’s my interpretation of the hidden background of Paranatural:

Boss Leader is a Wight with the power to mold reality. Out of a fascination/jealousy/love for humanity, she shapes, protects, and sustains Mayview. To protect humans from dangerous spirits, and to fight powerful spirits like Lucifer and King Catnine, she maintains the Activity Consortium.

Thirteen years before present-day Paranatural, something happens: the "unexplained paranatural event 13 years ago" that everyone keeps referring to. This is the event that earned Spender his reputation as the "strongest spectral," where he "defeated" the strongest spirit with a single burst of light. What else do we know about this event? That it was the day that Lucifer came to claim the Mayview Wight's power.

Lucifer was one of "the others" that coveted the Wight. We know Lucifer can cross through the barrier as pure light—Spender uses their spirit fusion to do just that when facing King Catnine. What if he entered Mayview to face the Wight, and was defeated, hopelessly outmatched. His wisp possesses the nearby Richard Spender. The Wight, donning her shadowy human disguise, reaches for Lucifer, who is now possessing Spender.

Spender and Lucifer, or maybe Lucifer possessing Spender, shoots a blast of light. With that blast, something breaks. The part of Boss Leader that can shape reality and the part of her that can shape dreams are split. The part left in reality, broken by Spender’s blast, possesses Spender as the shadow. The fragment that was blasted free (Peekaboo) possesses Dimitri, who is one year old at the time. Dimitri "first became a spectral as an infant" (ch7 pg144), and Peekaboo seems stuck in a childlike mental state. Peekaboo is a ghost, so it makes itself look like a child's idea of a ghost.

Without the Peekaboo part, the Shadow can’t mold the physical world, only shadows. Cut away from the Shadow, Peekaboo loses its identity, reinventing itself according to Dimitri's childhood imagination. Without the ability to shape the physical world, Boss Leader can only manifest her human “self” in dreams. Her insectoid spirit hides below ground, hiding her true form, unable to show herself to humans without frightening them. She can no longer control the part of herself that shapes the real world, and can no longer wear her disguise: the shadowy mask that now possesses Spender.

The part of Boss Leader that can shapeshift in the real world is still there, but it's out of her control. If woken, it would rampage. She "locked it in nightmares," nursed it as a grudge, but she's missing some piece of the puzzle. Little does she know that part of that missing piece has been in Rick Spender all along...

Also: Peekaboo's floor is literally made of puzzle pieces! I know that's in reference to the foam floor tiles that you put down in a kid's room, but it has to mean something. Coincidence? ...yeah, maybe. But I think Peekaboo is the missing piece from the Shadow's mask.

Part 4: King Catnine

This friggin’ guy.

One person in Mayview knows where the Great Wight is—in fact, he’s known all along. Why did Isaac nearly electrocute Dimitri? Why did Catnine amplify Isaac’s shot towards the Hijack-controlled Spender? Because he recognized the power that they possessed, or rather, that was possessing them: the power of a wight. I'm sure he'll have his moment someday.

Part 5: The Locker

When the locker was first shown, the Paranatural fandom exploded trying to decipher the meaning behind its stickers. Was the ghost Peekaboo? Was the Vampire Davy? Was the "zzz" Sandman? Why was the werewolf there? What about the star- was Starchman involved?

The answer is yes, to everything.

I posit that some of the stickers represent the “paranatural” elements of Mayview. Vampires, werewolves, an “unusually high population of ghosts and spirits” (Valerie Day, ch5 pg144), while the burger and sticky note are more pertinent to the locker spirit’s current situation. The wight shapes reality, and these things are its reality—Mayview’s reality. As I’ve already stated, I think the eye on the padlock represents how the real padlock is hidden away in a dream, literally "locked in nightmares." Boss Leader sure has a lot of eye motifs.

(I don’t actually know about the star. Maybe that reflects how Starchman stars are a real, valued currency in the school? Zack’s master plan continues to elude me)

There's another version of this theory. Davy claims that he once "shared the same prison" as the spirit in the locker. Davy, as far as we know, is the oldest vampire in Mayview, and he wasn't yet a vampire when the Consortium defeated the Great Sphinx. What if Mayview's werewolves and vampires, and even their spirits, all come from the sleeping wight's dream-world? The same place that the Doctors Burger were sent, and where Dave Jones may have been sent on his final mission for the Consortium. The Doctors are still there. Davy, however, cut his way out. I'll get to that in a minute. First, look at this passage from the latest chapter:

Where have we seen a boat before?

Where Doctor Burger is, in the Wight’s dream! The lake is where everything went down thirteen years ago, and it's where the fragment of the sleeping Wight still slumbers. But what does this have to do with Boss Leader, if she's also that big insect?

This paragraph from Chapter 8, page 61 is my smoking gun:

Insects flushed from hiding? Dredged up from the depths to be dissected on sands? Wow, that sounds familiar.

Davy Jones once worked for the Consortium, under Boss Leader. For whatever reason (maybe he tried to usurp her? maybe she just sent him on a mission gone wrong), she "let him go" from the consortium, cut off his hand (now Lefty) and sealed him away in the sleeping Wight's dream. Davy, with Cryptide's help (the grudge he held), cut his way out—and maybe cut off some of the wight's space-warping abilities to keep for himself. That last bit is pure speculation; I still don't know exactly how Davy and Dimitri both have access to Peekaboo, and that's my best guess.

Part 6: LOOK AT ME

I know what you're thinking: "Sandman can't be the Wight! Their wails are different!" I hear you, and I propose an answer.

Firstly, who said that a Wight can only have one wail? On the chapter cover, the wail is preceded by a monologue that culminates in the spiral of pure emotion. Secondly, assuming that Sandman and the Sleeping Wight are two parts of the same spirit, if the Sleeping Wight was the mask that Boss Leader showed to the world, no wonder its basic desire would be to be perceived. Put them back together, and all the Great Wight wants is for people to see it without being scared.

(it's all very biblical angel "BE NOT AFRAID," isn't it?)

Peekaboo, in its childlike state, is left with the basic desire to be looked at, played with, and given attention. Spender's shadow, meanwhile, just flails, lashing out to grab people.

Moreover: IS THAT NOT SANDMAN'S EYE IN THE MIDDLE OF THE CHAPTER COVER?? BOSS LEADER IS THE WIGHT I SWEAR

Part 7: Maybe I'm Wrong

Maybe Sandman isn't the Great Wight after all. Peekaboo and the Shadow are certainly related, and I'm convinced that Boss Leader is an insect, but maybe all wights can use those monstrous tendrils. In that case, I have two alternate theories:

One: Maybe Boss Leader was just using the Wight, puppeting it, controlling it through its dreams to shape Mayview while it slept. Davy says that he lent his hand to "your dream," i.e. Boss Leader's dream. That could mean the Consortium, it could mean Mayview as the literal dream of the Wight, but it could also mean Boss Leader's dream for Mayview, enacted through the sleeping Wight. Maybe Lucifer woke the Wight, and then Spender blasted it to pieces, putting it back to sleep but severing Boss Leader's control. Either way, it would still make sense for the Mayview Wight to desire the approving attention of others. Now that BL can't control it, it shapes itself, like Davy claims, according to the dreams of Mayview's people. Or maybe that desire to be looked at just jealousy, simmered for years of watching Davy dote on Cryptide.

Two: Maybe Boss Leader was never controlling it! Maybe "Clayview" was a pre-thirteen-years-ago concept, and the Incident that shattered the Wight was what changed the town into Mayview as the town's collective unconscious made it lush and green. Who knows what would happen if the Wight were to wake up, and what would happen to Mayview.

CONCLUSION

I did not intend to make this post so long. It's a testament to Zack's storytelling ability that there are so many possibilities to distill from this webcomic. I might be way off the mark, but I'm just happy to share my speculations. I'm sure I've missed a lot.

Whoever read this whole essay, I hope you're as excited for the next Paranatural update as I am!

this is how boss leader can still win

EDIT:

I got the timeline all mixed up! Davy was a vampire before the Incident—Davy cutting himself free of the dream had to occur before Spender "defeated" the Wight. That means I need to revise some things.

New Theory: Davy severed Boss Leader from the Lake Spirit, Spender then broke that spirit in two, creating Peekaboo and the Shadow.

Davy, with Cryptide's powers, "cut the age of great wights to a close." That must have included Boss Leader! When Davy cut himself out of Boss Leader's dream, he split the Wight's reality-warping powers in two—splitting Mayview's reality in two, between the dream and the real world. Boss Leader could control dreams from out in the waking world and the Lake Spirit could control the waking world from within a dream. That was why Spender could defeat the Lake Spirit: it was only half the Wight it had been before. It's still connected to Boss Leader, like how the Sphinxes are connected to each other. Davy kept a piece of the wight for himself, somehow, and draws power through the locker.

I maintain that the Shadow is somehow Boss Leader's human mask, or human form. That means her insect spirit is... I don't know. There's a bedbug joke to be made somewhere. The Lake Spirit has empty eyes, Peekaboo has empty eyes, Spender has empty eyes... Sandman and Boss Leader are all about eyes. Is Sandman the spirit's eyes? Sandman looks like a half moon, a completed Shadow would look like a full moon, I'm just spitballing here

Everything else about this theory holds, I think.

Thanks to this post by @blacktycoon that made me realize my anachronism. They also put a lot of these pieces together back in May, way before I did lol.

[elizabethsnuts]

Hi could you write something with Ian&Mickey where they a young daughter and she getting bullied bc she has two dad?

Always Got Your Back

Gallavich x Daughter!Reader

Summary: You are getting bullied at school for having two dads and no mum, Ian and Mickey always have your back.

———

Ian had always known parenting wouldn’t be easy, but nothing could have prepared him for the situation he was dealing with now. You had come home from school in tears, and it hadn’t taken long for Ian and Mickey to get to the bottom of it. You were being bullied because you had two dads.

Ian sat at the kitchen table, staring at the untouched cup of coffee in front of him. Across the table, Mickey paced back and forth, his face a mask of fury. Ian knew that look all too well.

“No kid should have to go through this shit,” Mickey growled, fists clenching and unclenching.

“I know, Mick, but we have to handle this carefully. What is everyone going to think when they hear that her dad fought another kid's parent.” Ian said rhetorically, trying to keep his voice calm.

Mickey stopped pacing and turned to face Ian, his eyes blazing. “Carefully? You think we should just sit back and let our daughter get bullied? I want names.”

Ian sighed, running a hand through his hair. "No, but we handle this the right way. We talk to the school, we talk to their parents. Y/N doesn’t need you in prison again."

Mickey paced the room, his anger barely contained. "And what if that doesn’t work, Ian? What then?"

Ian stepped closer to Mickey, placing a firm hand on his shoulder. "Then we figure something else out."

You walked into the kitchen where your dads were talking, though you did hear everything they said. You looked between Ian and Mickey, your eyes welling up with tears. "I don’t want you to get in trouble, Papa," You said to Mickey.

Mickey's resolve wavered at your plea. He knelt beside you, taking your tiny hands in his rough ones. "I won’t, N/N. I promise."

Ian knelt down next to the two of you, pulling both of you into a tight embrace. "We’ll get through this together, Y/N. We’ll make sure the school knows what’s going on, and you can always tell us what’s going on in school because we’ll handle it."

The next morning, Ian and Mickey walked you to school, holding your hands tightly. They met with the principal, explaining the situation and demanding action. The principal assured them that the school had a zero-tolerance policy for bullying and promised to address the issue immediately. Though they knew schools usually do nothing.

You went to school as normal, going to your class and learning to read and write. At recess, you were playing in the sandpit when the boy who had been bullying you came over.

“You’re playing by yourself again. It’s because you're a freak!” The boy teased. You usually played with your friends in the sand, though they were out sick today.

“Indie is sick today.” You frowned and bit back, your dads always taught you to at least stand up for yourself. “Charlotte is on holiday.”

The boy rolled his eyes. “Yeah, whatever. Mother’s Day is soon, gonna bring your mum in? That’s right you can’t! Because you’re a loser who doesn’t have one!”

“I’m not a loser…” You frowned. You didn’t know what else to say, you didn’t even know why he cared so much.

“Yeah, you are! Everyone needs a mum!” The boy stated. He stole your hat off your head and kicked sand at you, running off.

When you got home, you immediately told Ian and Mickey. They were furious the school wasn’t handling it and instead were letting this kid get away with bullying you.

"Fuckin' kids," Mickey muttered under his breath, his jaw clenched tightly. He was known for being tough, but his heart broke seeing you distressed like this.

Ian ran a hand through his hair, his face etched with concern and anger. "They promised they'd handle it!"

Mickey scoffed, his frustration bubbling over. "Handle it my ass. They ain't doin' shit. Look at her!" Mickey gestured to you while wiping away your tears.

“Daddy, Papa? Am I a freak?” You sniffled and looked Mickey in the eyes.

Mickey shook his head. “No way. You’re not a freak at all. They’re just assholes that have nothing better to do than keep pickin’ on you all day. But you’re tough, you’re not gonna let their bullyin’ get to you are you?”

She shook your head quickly. “No, I’m not gonna, Papa. I’m tough.”

Mickey smirked and ruffled your hair. “You’re tough alright, what would the south side be without you?”

“Are you and Daddy going to sort it out if he doesn’t stop?” You asked, hoping they’d say yes.

Ian nodded. “Of course we will, Don’t you worry about it.”

You hugged your dads tightly, knowing they always had your back and would always protect you. Even if that meant going full south side on other parents.

[precious-little-scoundrel]

Sarge & lil Mama: Wouldn’t it be Nice?

Fully co-authored with: @ab4eva 🤍

Summary: In between shooting movies and topping charts, Elvis Presley takes his young family to the California beach for some hard earned frolicking, nothing extraordinary occurs, but then again, extra and ordinary are words redefined since Elaine gave him five children under the age of five.

Date: 1962, Summertime

Word Count: 9k

Warnings: PG13- The accidental destruction of a child’s sandcastle, breastfeeding toddler, talk of being uncircumcised (including by children + children being aware of it), use of several nicknames for a man’s member, someone’s hair accidentally being set fire to, language, a minor injury involving sand in the foreskin + lots of talk about it (including by children) + treatment of the injury by uncommon methods while children are present (but not directly involved), Elvis being a big baby, Rosalee being distraught about her daddy’s injury, a child willfully acquiring a knife and threatening to cut off fathers member (more wholesome than it sounds) but has it taken away before anything can happen, parents kissing while children are present.

Jerry thought the day had been going quite well. Beach days were supposed to be carefree and rollicking and generally a time to let loose and soak up salt spray tranquility, and today had been correspondingly mellow. Or at least, everyone tried their best, a break from those back to back Wallis pictures doing wonders for EP and giving him a chance to take the kids to see the ocean for the first time, or the first time that some of them can remember .

It gave the day both a heavy amount of purpose and a giddy sense of long sought freedom. Away from the hustle and bustle of Hollywood, nestled between the Santa Monica Mountains and the cliffs of Pacific Palisades, sits a beach so serene and beautiful you’d think you were a thousand miles from nowhere instead of a stone’s throw away from the City of Angels. Miles of smooth, sandy shoreline and calm ocean waves, not to mention the virtually non-existent crowd, made it the ideal spot for their getaway. They would have space, and privacy, away from the prying eyes and curious shutterbugs that seemed to follow their little gang wherever they went.

They had a good little headquarters set up on the sand, a sandpit and bonfire beginning to be used for the evening’s meal of s’mores and hot dogs, a half a dozen umbrellas erected and a carpet of towels. Often they held a dozing child, nestled in a nest of cotton stripes when their little bodies couldn’t keep up with the games so vigorously played on at the water's edge. An hour ago Elvis had been there himself, laid out and snoozing next to Rosalee, his face in the shade but the entire rest of him in the sun’s full glare, clad in a wispy muslin shirt that had a penchant for riding up his belly with each gust of wind and tiny red shorts that he’d swiped from Edith Head’s costuming department after the latest film had wrapped.

“Those’ll make for some crazy tan lines.” Billy had remarked about it to Elaine while grabbing a beer from the cooler.

She’d just hummed dreamily while watching the way her man and their baby’s breath synced up, the little girl not even a third as long as his lanky frame, positioned in a L, her pasty baby skin in full shadow from the summer sun.

The cat nap had revived Elvis immensely and he was back at it within an hour, playing football with the boys while Elaine floated between her children, one minute collecting shells with Ella and Rosalee, the next inspecting a tiny crab Jackson had found. Jack, as his family called him, was intrigued by sea creatures and creatures in general, so he happily set about running from one thing to the next, crouching down to study a jellyfish that had washed ashore or gently returning a live sand dollar back to the water. At the ripe age of four years old, Jesse considered himself one of the guys, and was allowed, begrudgingly by some, to take part in the football game. Elvis had taught him how to throw a football almost as soon as he could walk, he’d been obsessed with any sort of ball since before he could talk and so was a natural. And Daisy Mae? For once she was sat quietly by herself, plastic buckets and pails all lined up in a row, diligently building a sandcastle..

It had three turrets so far, and an outer courtyard like the real life castle mama had driven them all to see when in Germany. Jesse had insisted that Daisy only recalled it from pictures and not memory, as she had been “just a baby” but she insisted she did. And to prove her point she was creating its layout with painstaking accuracy. Unless Elaine was greatly mistaken, Daisy’s little sand edifice bore a more striking resemblance to an illustration in Scribner’s edition of Grimm’s Fairy Tales, but she would be the first and staunchest defender if asked that the wet mounds resembled Lichtenstein Castle.

It made what happened next even worse as Elaine and Aunt Betsy watched as if in slow motion horror as a cataclysmic catastrophe of toddler sized proportions unfolded as the ball game spread and spread across the white sands. It wasn’t that Uncle Rex was trying to trample on Daisy’s masterpiece, but Elvis threw a Hail Mary pass, farther than even he thought possible, and the next thing anyone knew Rex was skidding to a stop with one foot in the moat and the other on a turret, his team cheering with wild abandon because he’d caught the ball. A high-pitched wail pierced the air, drowning out the gulls and the waves, startling them all.

Uncle Rex’s kindly and sun tanned face turned a little sickly pale upon looking down and noticing that while little Daisy Mae did not look to be in any mortal danger, she was glaring at his foot through a cascade of tears as if it were the cause of all human woe. Then he noticed the turret, the moat, what was probably a stable for horsies in back and the stack of plastic shovels and molds beside it that all bore witness to the four year old’s painstaking efforts. All of it demolished with a misplaced foot and when Rex looked up and saw Elvis running over to ascertain the cause of his child’s grief, Rex coulda swore his wide-receiver days were over.

In an instant, Elvis had scooped Daisy Mae up in his arms, her tears soaking the shoulder of his thin shirt as he patted her back soothingly, swaying gently from side to side and murmuring softly in her ear. Being a father was second nature to him at this point, he had perfected all of the little rituals and responsibilities that came with having so many children all under the age of five. At the same time, he was holding her close and checking to make sure she wasn’t hurt, smoothing the fine hair that floated in a halo around her head and running his hands over her tiny limbs.

“Aww now darlin’ it’s alright, it’s alright, Uncle Rex is awfully sorry,” he soothed her the best he could once hearing her bawling complaint, “he’s awfully sorry, didn’t mean to, such a pretty castle ya got here. So pretty, he’d never mean to do it and he feels sick about it.”

“Just sick.” Rex agreed vehemently, dropping to his knees on the sand beside Elvis and his child, careful to choose an undeveloped patch of sand from which to properly apologize, “I’m ever so sorry, Daisy dear.”

It was typical Daisy fashion for words to be cheap and the devastation of her afternoon’s work a soul scarring affair, and while her daddy’s arms and sweet words were soothing, at least a little, there remained a bitterly painful sense of loss in her little chest that nothing was ever again going to remedy or fill that void.

That is untill Jesse piped up softly at her side after surveying the damage, “Daisy, was this goin’ to be where they keep the wolves?”

Lichtenstein Castle had an large menagerie in back where it’s first Saxon overlord kept the native beasts for gruesome purposes Elaine did not expound to the children about. Seemingly forgetting his insistence that Daisy did not recall the place from memory alone, Jesse was intrigued by the design and after asking her she finally pulled her face out of her daddy’s shoulder to give her big brother a sniffling nod and very pointedly emphasized:

“S’posed to be.” For it would never be now and never could be again, for all her mortal dreams had been dashed by Uncle Rex’s foot.

“We can help finish it!” Jesse insisted. “Look here, Daisy, this shovel is the perfect thing to fix the wolf pen, just needs a bit of sand scooped out is all and it’ll be good as new!” He dropped to his hands and knees and got to work, carefully scooping out sand and water, shoring up the walls as he went. Daisy observed him watchfully from the safety of her father’s arms, hiccuping a little every now and then. Elvis gently swiped the tears from her reddened cheeks, kissing her forehead gently and whispering to her, “Whatdya reckon, Daisy Maisey? Think we can get this ol’ castle fixed up? Uncle Rex and I know a thing or two ‘bout buildin’ things, don’t we now, Rex?” He nodded knowingly to Rex above Daisy’s head, giving him the go ahead to speak up.

“Oh sure we do, I’ve been known to build a sandcastle as tall as your daddy before, ain’t that right, Elvis?” He hunched down beside the duo, eye to eye with Daisy to plead his case. “I’ll even make ya some pretty vines to hang down the side outta seaweed, would ya like that?” Daisy eyed him warily before nodding her head slowly and stating with a great deal of gravity, “Lick-en-stine Castle doesn’t have vines that hang down…but it has trees that grow on the side.” Her small concession was all the affirmation Rex needed to plop himself down properly, grabbing a pail and filling it with sand, talking to the little girl the whole while, regaling her with his favorite parts of the castle he had visited while in Germany.

“What’s going on down there?” Up at Beach HQ under the umbrellas, Elaine asked Aunt Betsy for an update on the toddler crises as she tried to discreetly nurse a rather lanky Jack under a towel he was insistent on throwing off.

He was perhaps getting too old for this, Elaine had to admit, but her milk hadn’t stopped, and she didn’t have another baby yet. “They’re all over the place.” She snickered at the sight of them, as much of them as she could make out which was mostly when they went to the water's edge and scurried back again with refilled buckets.

They weren’t that far off down the beach but Betsy was always nearsighted and so she held the binoculars Rex had brought for whale watching and trained it on the group of men down there hovering and packing and molding sand and fetching water like a great army of ants. Anywhere Daisy beckoned was attended to by a member of the Mafia, with Jesse as her most dedicated foremen, while it appeared that Rex had been entrusted with wreathing the front pillars with garlands of seaweed that he received from further up in the assembly line where Elvis was braiding the slimy stuff with dedicated perseverance and the help of Rosalee’s tiny fingers. Rex and Betsy’s son, Sam, happy and carefree and practically one of the Presley kids himself, plopped down beside Rosalee, far more interested in watching her work than doing any work himself.

“Your man has got the boys rebuilding it.” Betsy summarized with an amused smirk. “Only Elvis could wrangle a group of grown men into building a sandcastle for a three year old…and with such authority. He really did learn a thing or two in the army, didn’t he?”

Elaine smiled softly to herself and held out a hand for the binoculars to better see the little group at the water’s edge. She wasn’t at all prepared for the sight of her husband, tiny red swim shorts and wind-blown hair, breath-taking in his command of an army all his own, pointing and inspecting and generally being an adorable menace for the benefit of his girl. Her darling children were running to and fro with buckets and shovels, laughing and screaming, while Daisy sat like a queen in the midst of them all, the real commanding officer and Elvis only her obedient second. That girl had had her daddy at her command ever since the day she was born.

Jack was roused from his cozy stupor at Elaine’s breast by all of the noise, letting her nipple go with a soft pop and turning his head to the commotion. A lackadaisical learner, Jack’s favored vocabulary consisted mostly of “mama” and food items at this point in his life and having stuffed himself with milk, he proved he was his father’s son by looking away from the sand architects down at the beach and asking her hopefully,

“Cat’sup?”

By that he meant the hotdogs intended for the bonfire but his favorite ingredient in them was ketchup and so they were referred to by it accordingly.

“You can’t possibly be hungry, little man.” She laughed, poking his distended, milk full belly and making him laugh until he hiccuped and that dimple of his dug deep.

“Cat’sup.” Jack persisted, cheeks in full grin and he bonked his soft button nose to Elaine's, holding their faces together with clammy little hands. “Caaaat’suuup.”

“Well, ya heard him,” she giggled to Betsy. “The man of the place says he’s hungry.”

“I don’t blame him one bit. I’m a little hungry myself,” Betsy said, rubbing her pregnant belly and winking at Jack. “What do ya think, Jacky boy, should we get lunch ready?”

Elaine and Betsy set about preparing lunch, knowing the troops would be ready to feast when they finished with all their hard work. There wasn’t much to do, as roasted hotdogs and potato chips were the beginning and end of it, with s’mores for dessert, but they laid everything out on the card table that Betsy had brought, stacking skewers and buns, stoking the burn pit to a good blaze.

The sandcastle crew were just about done shoring up their renovations, much to Daisy’s satisfaction and glee, when the smell of the bonfire wafted down shore, making their tummies suddenly grumble, the promise of sustenance close at hand. The whole gaggle of them made their way towards Beach HQ, and chattering excitedly, descended upon the food like a pack of hungry wolves set free from Lichtenstein Castle.

After the hot dogs had been roasted and consumed, the s’mores fixins were brought out, much to the gathered children’s delight. With the concentration and patience befitting a much older child, Jesse slowly turned his marshmallow over the low flames, just like his daddy taught him. Slow and steady, until it starts to grow and puff up, turning a lovely golden color. It was almost there, almost ready to be popped onto a graham cracker and smooshed with chocolate, a melty, delicious, sugary mess. But then the inevitable happened, because no matter how careful and how meticulous you are when roasting marshmallows, at least one or two, three or four even, are bound to catch fire. It happens in a flash, and there’s nothing you can do about it.

Waving it back and forth, though, that will surely put the flame out, right?

This is Jesse’s thinking at least, as his eyes grow big and he inhales a breath, intending to blow out the flaming marshmallow that is too far gone to save. He waves it back and forth, frantically, the tiny blaze only growing bigger by the second. Those gathered around the campfire watch almost in slow motion as the mallow launches off of Jesse’s stick, flying through the air with the greatest of ease, and lands with a plop on poor Jerry’s beautiful blonde mop of hair.

“Holy shi-“

“Uhem!”

“Somebody put it out!”

“No, no, not the marshmallow, forget the marshmallow, his hair! Get his hair put out!”

It’s absolute pandemonium then as Jerry tries to pat out the flames but only succeeds in yelping as the fire singes his hands, the same goes for Charlie and Billy as they try to bat it out and Elaine and Betsy are no help at all, lost to giggles and trying to make sure no more marshmallows get catapulted off sticks.

“Dunk him in the ocean!” Elaine suggests the obvious and suddenly Jerry is resistant to all help.

“No, no, just, just hand me some water or somethin-“ he backs away from the encouraging hands of his friends.

“There’s a giant body of water right behind ya.” Elvis laughs the same hiccuping laugh that Jack has.

“The salt will ruin my flow, man!” Jerry begs for him to understand and Elaine watches as her peacock of a husband has a compassionate epiphany for him.

It’s no time for vanity, the smoldering sticky bomb in his hair is singeing and casting a nauseating stench over the dessert.

“Jerry, just stick your dumb head in God’s teacup, man.” Charlie coaxes him towards the ocean.

“You’re gonna lose more than your flow if ya don’t.” Elaine predicts as she watches those blonde locks begin to frazzle.

She can tell it spooks him but it’s not enough and in the end they have some free entertainment with their s’mores, watching Billy and Rex dunk their unwilling buddy into the waves. Before Elaine can remind him to swallow his last bite, Jesse is off down the beach and into the waves himself, body surfing like his daddy taught him with an alarming lack of caution. It makes even Elvis nervous and with a sticky peck to her lips in thanks for the meal, her husband discards his shirt and jogs after their son.

The diaspora affects all and soon the bonfire occupants have dispersed, each to their own little endeavors again as the sun begins to dip towards the westerly horizon. There’s frisbee’s being thrown now, higher up the beach and well away from any sandcastles, and it gets quite competitive as the kids are happily intent on burying Betsy and Elaine. The mermaid tails requested by each take additional time to craft and part way through Jesse becomes too restless to mold sand any longer and with tentative steps makes his way back to the towel fort under the umbrella and pulls the family’s famed new Polaroid camera from inside Elaine’s diaper bag.

“Mama, can I?” he hollers, careful to wipe his sandy fingers off on the towel after he notices them near the lens.

“Sure, darlin,” she grins from her sand casement, “Rosa baby, can ya pull my hair back a little for mama? It’s gettin’ in my mouth, thank ya baby.”

“Alright,” Jesse appears before them all knobby knees and tanned little legs beneath his shorts, looking for all the world like a collectible sized Elvis doll, “gimme your best smile ladies!” he imitates his father’s tone so well that Betsy let’s out an ungainly snort alongside her shocked laugh.

“I want a mermaid tail!” Ella, usually so very selfless for so young a child, lets slip her needs with a wobbly lip and yearning eyes.

“Of course you do!” Elaine murmurs, nodding her head to the side, “Lay down beside mama, sweetie. Y’all got enough muscles for one more, right?” she eggs on her boys and Jesse springs to action for his twin maybe a little too fast: “No, Jesse, the camera -don’t, not on the sand! -oh well.”

It’s just money, Elaine realizes, as Jesse’s guilty face waits for her verdict on the Polaroid camera face first in the sand. Luckily her husband makes a whole lotta the yummy green stuff.

“It’s fine, darling,” she insists and the colony of worker bees sets in motion again until Ella has a tiny little tail to match mama’s.

After an hour in this full body cast Elaine ventures with an unassuming tone, “Do y’all need me to get you anything? Y’all hungry again?”

“Yeah, I think there are more graham crackers left over?” Betsy adds to it, a terrible itch on her shin hardly able to be tolerated any longer as her hands are pinned to her sides.

“No, we’re good,” Daisy replies serenely.

“Ya sure?” Betsy’s face shows alarm at the prospect of not being released.

“Yeah.”

Elaine smirks and leans into the sandy hair petting Jack is lavishing on her, “How long do you reckon mermaids last after they get tossed ashore?” she asks Betsy.

“With those men as the sailors?” She rejoins, wryly nodding at the group of full grown men body smashing each other in pursuit of the frisbee, “An hour max.”

Elaine snickers and settles for waiting until someone wants to be carried into the waves before breaking out of her meticulously crafted tail. She doesn’t have to wait long before unforeseen circumstances arise that require her attention. With that sixth sense that motherhood has given her, she senses an injury in the frisbee players even before the concerning hush alerts her to a downed man.

“Ow goddamnit! Ow, ow, owww!” The last thing anyone had seen was Elvis diving for the frisbee with ease, his long and tan athletic form sure in its ability. And now here he was, rolling around in the sand, clutching his groin through his tiny, red shorts and moaning like he’d been shot.

“What is it Daddy? What’s wrong?” Little Jesse is at his father’s side in an instant, dropping to his knees on the sand next to Elvis, his sharp, intuitive eyes assessing the situation like a triage doctor on the battlefield. He takes in Elvis’s hands covering his privates and understands what’s happened, in the way that men always understand when that delicate part of them has been injured, like a sixth sense. “Is it your nozzle, papa? Is it hurt?”

“I think I’ve got sand in my…” Elvis grits out, before blushing deeply and coughing, too embarrassed to go on. Jesse stares at him, eyebrows drawn together, a puzzled look on his little boy face, trying to decipher his father’s unspoken meaning. He looks from Elvis’s face down to where his hands are pressing at his shorts and back up again, a look of recognition dawning.

“In your scarf, papa?” Jesse whispers loudly, the way a little child thinks they’re being discreet but really they’re just announcing your business for the whole world to hear.

Elvis hears the snickers of the gathered men at this and through his pain manages to give them a hard stare, withering in its ability to shut them up immediately, their eyes pointedly looking anywhere but at the situation unfolding before them, though they can’t help their drifting gazes that settle back on the man himself. Jesse’s little boy fascination with his father’s “nozzle” that wore a “little scarf” came from the fact that he himself didn’t have one. There had been no way in hell that Elvis Presley would let any sons of his grow up being teased and tormented in every locker or shower room they found themselves in for the rest of their lives. He had been through so much hazing and shame in his lifetime due to his uncut self that he was insistent with Elaine when Jesse was born that he be circumcised.

Elaine had been torn, and a little bit saddened, by this decision. She had wanted her boys to resemble their father in this aspect, had wanted them to be able to see themselves in Elvis in this most intimate way. But she knew there would be no arguing her point with him, this was one concession she had no choice in. She understood his shame, his embarrassment, but that didn’t mean she had to agree with it. Her man was perfect in every way, this one included. So she had merely tilted her head to the side and given him a gentle, searching look, her brown eyes meeting his scared blue ones, before nodding once and agreeing to his decree.

And so it was that when Elvis taught his little sons how to aim just so in the toilet, or when they went camping and had to use the bathroom in the woods, or when they saw him getting out of the shower every now and again, they were sorely disappointed that their “little men” didn’t have a scarf like their daddy’s did.

Such was Jesse’s preoccupation with making sure that Elvis and his little scarf were ok. Elvis hisses as he shifts his position in the sand, trying to sit up, every move he makes jostling more sand to fall out of his tiny shorts.

Jerry rolls his eyes behind his aviator shades and drawls, “Want me to carry ya to mama, EP?”

“Help me up, dammit, and wipe that look off your face, Schilling. Do you have a nozzle with a little scarf? No? Then I don’t wanna hear it,” Elvis spits out venomously, hissing again as Jerry pulls him up by the hand, throwing Elvis’s arm around him as Jesse rather comically supports him on the other side, his daddy’s hand resting heavily on the little boy’s shoulder. A truly absurd amount of sand falls out of Elvis’s tiny shorts as he stands and Jerry has to bite his cheek to keep from laughing. Distracted by all the commotion, Jack leaves the seashells he’d been collecting, running over to see what all the commotion was about.

“Elbis’ wocket owie?” Jack asks his daddy who he refuses to call by his proper title, taking a sandy thumb out of his mouth as he casually observes the trio making their way delicately across the beach to headquarters. Ever their curious child, by talking age Jack was obsessed with NASA and everything to do with space. He had settled on calling his little man “rocket,” a decision his father was sure he would come to regret in a couple of decades. But as he could tell that Jack wouldn’t be persuaded against it, he had sighed with fondness, ruffling the little rascal’s hair and saying, “Ok, my boy. I see I ain’t gonna change your mind on this one.” Elaine had watched all of this from the darkened hallway in Graceland, biting her lip and trying not to smile, as her three men stood in the bathroom, discussing men things. Jesse was already making blast-off jokes about it, something he would no doubt continue to do for the rest of their lives.

“Oh now, what’s all the fuss about, hmm?” Elaine, having broken out of her mermaid tail at the first sign of distress down the beach, looks over her cat-eye sunglasses at the group slowly making their way towards her. Her motherly instincts kick in as she evaluates the situation with sharp eyes, taking in her husband’s disheveled and slightly embarrassed state - noting with some concern the pained grimace running from his furrowed brow to his twisted mouth, the look of pure concern on her son’s face as he peers up at his father and the barely concealed amusement that Jerry’s trying hard to reign in. Elvis is limping like his leg’s been shot clean off, and she can’t quite make out where the injury lies. There’s no blood, no bruise, no showing bone…she runs through all of these possibilities in a matter of seconds, still puzzled by the time she meets them halfway down the beach.

“Elvis, what’s wrong?” she asks again as she meets them up the beach and takes in Schilling's straight face but bouncing shoulders and Elvis’ teeth gritted glare at his friend. “What’s broken?” Elaine throws her hands up in encouraging exasperation at the mute trio and it’s Jesse who has the composure to break the dire news to his mother in grave, childish tones,

“Daddy’s nozzle is broken.” Jesse tells her and for a split second Elvis can see the identical expression on both Elaine and Jesse’s faces, that alarmed and incredulous mix that makes the beginning third of their eyebrows point upwards briefly in a way that blows out of the water any theories about Jesse being his daddy’s copy. He’s a pure blend of both parents and Elvis thinks that the boy having his mama’s expressions makes him somehow fonder for the almost womanish amounts of fretting his young son already indulges in.

“Broken?” Elaine repeats and she’s already gathered enough comfort for Schilling’s mirth to figure that this isn’t life threatening, pulling down her shades again she ducks to meet Elvis’ eyes and mutters for only him to hear, “Really, honey? We’ve talked about you runnin’ round with a stiffy.”

“It ain’t broke or stiff!” Elvis replies with vehemence driven by pain, “There’s a beach worth of sand down my drawers and all up in my…business!”

“Oh.” Elaine’s mouth trembles in a way that closely resembles Jerry’s suppressed attempts and that’s just great, Elvis thinks, Elaine finds him and his scarf full of sand funny and maybe he will too in a few months when this gets to be a bonfire story but right now it feels like fire in his drawers.

“Woman, I’m in agony over here!” Elvis cries and his wife composes her face with credible ease and looks down to the offending red shorts with eyes intent to solve the issue.

“Do somethin’ mama!” Jesse urges, mimicking his father’s faith that Elaine can work miracles on big or little men.

“Umm ok, yeah of course I-“ she starts to fret herself as she looks around at their entourage, most of whom are starting to take notice of the boss being injured. “Can’t you just -wade out there and rinse the sand out?” She misunderstands exactly how intricate the issue is. “Just pull the legs out a little and…shimmy in the water..”

“I could barely walk to you!” Elvis eyes are wide as saucers and he looks like a hurt child for all that his masculine body is on full display to dissuade her gut instincts.

“Yeah, uh, Boss Lady, it’s like -up, UP his …scarf.” Jerry helps out in his staple, sardonic drawl.

“And it hurts?!” Elaine looks flabbergasted and Elvis gives her one last pained and withering look of incredulity before she shapes up into the doting little caregiver Elvis has molded her into, “Oh Mopey, no, oh dear, I’ll fix it, I-I’ll find a way. We need these folks distracted -Jerry?”

“What am I supposed to do about a dick injury?” Jerry asks, offended at the notion he’d know anything about dicks.

Elaine’s eyebrow quirks in appreciation for Jerry and his staunch idiocy. “I need to rinse the poor thing!” she hisses, “And I need some privacy from our folks while I’m at it.”

“Yeah, she needs to rinse it!” Elvis repeats in a small voice that’s very hopeful and very needy and Elaine slips her hand around his bronzed wrist to keep her husband from fully floating away.

“Elvis, come on honey, just a little further to the blanket fort,” she urges him and he throws his arm around her sun kissed shoulders and hobbles to HQ with unsuppressed little whines at each step that Elaine shouldn’t find so cute but she can’t help it when he turns into a big baby for her.

“What’s wrong with daddy?” Rosalee demands with terror in her eyes and predictably Sam Harrison and Daisy Mae are right on her heels.

“He’s got a boo boo and I’ve gotta rinse it out.” Elaine hushes the brewing hysteria as gently as she can, and even Elvis gives his girl a weak thumbs up of assurance as he drops to his knees on the sand and tugs at the tight pant leg of his shorts. “Like how we gotta rinse your cuts with antiseptic when you scrape your knees, ya know?” Elaine explains patiently while thinking up a plan, “But daddy’s owie is higher up. And I need your help, Rosa sweets. I need y’all to make a blanket wall for me, can ya do that? Get your brother and sisters and hold hands with your towels?”

The words are barely out of Elaine’s mouth before little Sam Harrison seizes his chance and grabs hold of Rosalee’s hand, the essential towel forgotten. The little chestnut haired cutie stares at his forwardness with typical childish surprise before looking to her daddy to see if he’s gonna kill Sam for such an assumption. Elvis is staring at the wide blue sky with gritted teeth and so he missed both the interaction and the way Sam’s mother Betsy comes over and asks after the plan -which Elaine relays with unapologetic diction but pink cheeks. Soon they’ve got a fine little semi circle made with the kids facing outwards and their towels held between them, giggling like it’s a competition of who can keep the most soldierly posture, the felled umbrella doing the work of three in the gap.

Somewhat sheltered for her delicate work, Elaine crawls over her prostate husband and takes in his puckered eyebrows and the trusting set of his blue eyes as he waits for her to fix him. Fix him, oh it’s so silly, she thinks, he’s so silly and she loves him so much and can’t believe she’s humoring a grown man in this stupid fit of whimpishness. Then again, maybe it does hurt.

“I shoulda made ya walk to the ocean like we did Jerry and his hair,” she sighs over him and his eyebrows knit together, further aggrieved at the mere suggestion of him putting in such effort when he’s so dreadfully wounded.

“Mama I’s hurtin,” Elvis objects and his sad glare is the same as Jack’s and somehow she’s gone from angel to being in deep trouble with a grown brat -and Elaine never got taught how to deal with such a phenom, in her own experience it’s best to just kiss it better.

But Elaine was always one to be been torn between doing what’s best and doing what’s asked of her. “My poor pretty baby.” she coos to him and places a wet peck to his plump lips and Elvis pitifully puckers them to receive it as he is still petulant, the praise has him only slightly pacified. “Lemme just grab-“ Elaine ignores the nearby canteen, it’s empty anyway, and instead sneakily reaches into the cooler and snags a Coke bottle. It’s chilled even though the ice has melted throughout the day.

“Here Butnin, open up,” she murmurs and Elvis unscrews his eyes enough to see her lighting a cigar for him and drawing on it with the faded paint of her lips before pressing it to his. The familiar taste and warm rush of the nicotine soothes him and he lays his head back on the towel, expecting her to present that Coke she’s grabbed for him to taste as soon as she uncaps it.

The sky is impossibly blue above him without a cloud in sight and at the edges of the horizon it’s turning violet as the sun wanes, and if he holds very still the burning down south calms enough for Elvis to appreciate the breeze and the feel of Tink fussing over him. Jack’s been getting more than his fair share of doting from her and while Elvis would never fake an injury or embellish it’s severity, when God fells a man it’s his due for a woman to fuss over him.

Drawing on his cigar, Elvis feels her hands stretching out the leg hole of his shorts and gingerly Elaine’s hands creep up his thigh and beyond those golden tan lines. She finds him where he’s tucked himself to the side, soft and floppy in its silliest state, and takes greater care with her hold in him when Elvis hisses,

“Careful woman, it’s burnin’ like hellfire, don’t need your maulin’ on top of it.”

“Sowwy, so sowwy baby,” she simpers as she tries to carefully pull the floppy worm that is a man’s flaccid penis out of his very elastic leg hole. There’s nothing quite as absurdly unimpressive or cute as a soft cock when it’s in repose. A cock with a tan little scarf tugged round its pink head like a nugget bundled freshly in a towel after a bath is doubly so, and Elaine can’t help the grin splitting her face as the comedic aspect of her duty comes to the fore. “We’re gonna fix hims up, Butnin, yes we is,” she whispers as the cigar smoke burns her nose and she gives a furtive glance the sunburned backs of the kids who are still busy competing at being dutiful with the shield wall while the adults pack up the condiments and leftovers at a distance.

Letting his cock lay heavily on his thigh, Elaine deftly pops the top off the Coke and wedges it between her thighs at the ready before gently cradling little Elvis in her palm. She is quite certain she hears her strapping young husband sniffle as she does so. It’s more of a production than one might think, to pull back the foreskin on a soft cock, but Elaine has played enough with her man in every stage of arousal that she is able to uncover the tip with some ease, and the next little bit with only some trouble.

“Goddamn it, Tink, that hurts!” Elvis pleads as he bites at his lip, gripping handfuls of sand, and she pets his bare belly soothingly, knowing he might be childish but the poor man is sensitive.

“I’s gotta gets to him, Naughty,” she says, loath to make it worse but now she’s looking, the dear, chubby little thing really does look a bit raw. “Let mamas take care of ya, hold still an’ it’ll be over soon, pretty baby.”

“Hurts worse t-than breaking a bone, o-o-r a virgin f-or-” her pretty baby informs her of this in a growl that’s not aimed at her but at the situation, nonetheless Elaine doesn’t appreciate the cadence or the subject matter so near her children and picks up the bottle as he goes on pouring out his woes to the sky, “-hell I’d wager a couple grand it’s worse than childbirth! -WHAT THE HELL TINK?”

Elaine tips the Coke and spills it onto his unsuspecting member, thumbing back the foreskin with practiced ease as the bubbles fizz in a caramel dance on top of his little head and pool in his slit before running down to his thigh.

“Hellfire woman that’s ice cold!” Elvis screeches around his cigar with his voice gone up two octaves at least and the harmless appendage in her hand shrinks like a miracle lab specimen. It makes her giggle.

“You said it was burnin’?” she reminds questioningly and she looks so earnestly confused at her wrong doing when Elvis goes to give her the stink eye that he can’t quite manage it, it’s an honest mistake a silly little gal without a cock would easily make. What he doesn’t so easily condone is the way she’s still dribbling the soda over him and trying to swish the sand off with her thumb like it’s a wiper on a windshield.

“Y-yeah I did,” he accepts and crunches partway up to watch and correct her ministrations, his lean belly crumpling up like a washboard and shimmering from the Coke, Elaine licks her lips in longing that can’t be indulged in with a crowd of kids nearby. “But in no world does that mean Coke on a pecker, Laney.”

“Is daddy gonna live?” Rosalee asks tentatively from her distance away and Sam squeezes her hand in either solidarity or hopes she’ll stop being preoccupied during this, their historic first handhold.

Jack takes a peek behind him to ascertain whether his midnight rival for his mama’s snuggles is indeed still alive and after Elaine snaps her fingers at him to turn back around, he reports morosely, “Elbis still alive, Woslaee.”

“But-but he’s crying, he’s crying like you do!” Rosalee protests in a whimper and Elvis’ head jerks up at the comparison to Jack.

“I’m fine, Schnucki, just a little hurt and your mama’s bein’ silly.” Elvis hollers, using her German acquired nickname for emphasis.

“Elaine, enough with the Coke,” Elvis insists, pulled out of transient toddlerhood by the need to control his own nursing and calm his most suggestible child.

“But look -it works!” she eagerly defends her choice and before he can prevent it there's a Coke bottle rim being wedged under the extra length of his foreskin and she’s tipping it back again and watching his hood swell with fizz.

“You ain’t got the brains of a lil bird,” he realizes aloud while watching his wife use cola for antiseptic.

“You say the sweetest things, E,” Elaine titters and looks around at the restless kids before pulling him straight up with the bottle wedged atop, seamless from the foreskin still wrapped around the rim. “Someone oughta call Ed Sullivan and tell ‘em he was spot on. See look, it’s workin’, the sand’s coming out.” She sounds pleased.

“No thanks to you!” Elvis says a little loudly and it causes little Ella to whimper as her own nursing skills are denied their proper outlet this time. She was always the one to patch daddy up, bandaids or dab his cuts with mercurochrome and she finds her sidelining for this injury particularly offensive. The more her father whimpers behind her the more obvious it is that Mama’s care ain’t cutting it.

“Hold still while I rinse this last bit out!” Tink hisses back at her husband in a low tone, actually sounding a little impatient and Elvis realizes maybe she’s right.

“Why’s it takin’ so long? Is daddy gonna bleed out? Mama?” Rosalee starts up again and Elvis swears that child’s nightmares are as bad as his, only she has them when conscious.

“You can’t bweed oudda yer wocket,” Jack helpfully informs where the trouble lies (daddy’s rocket), while rolling his baby blue eyes in disdain for female stupidity. “But a wocket can snap off.”

“Why’d his rocket snap off?” Rosalee wails in concern for any limb of her fathers being snapped and little Sam let’s go of his edge of the towel wall to thumb a tear track away from her chubby cheek.

“‘Cause God doesn’t lub Elbis.” Jack clarifies.

“We should just snap it off all the way, then it’ll stop hurtin,” Daisy surmises in hopes of comforting her now sobbing twin.

“I can’t lose him, I can’t lose daddy! We jus’ got him back!” Rosalee’s grief brings Betsy over who tries to comfort the girl while watching as the thin barrier of privacy for Elaine’s work starts to waver like a Roman shield wall when met with the War Elephants of Carthage.

“Then we should snap the wocket clean off,” Jack insists gravely with a dimple creating a cavern in his milk fat cheek.

“Pete’s sake! It’s not his rocket doin’ this, it’s his scarf!” Jesse chimes in with authoritative four year old sensibility and not in a million years did Elvis dream that filling up sweet Elaine Phipps with children would get him five toddlers discussing his package.

“I hate Daddy’s scarf!” Rosalee screams about something she doesn’t even understand, straight into Betsy’s red and soothing face.

Elvis gives pause from hissing at Elaine’s ministrations of tying his foreskin off like a balloon end and shaking the soda up in it in order to reach and tickle the back of his disconsolate Rosalee’s neck.

“Schnucki, my Schnucki I’m gonna be fine!” he coos and Elaine rolls her eyes fondly at his picking and choosing moments to be tough. Elaine lets out the soda and retracts the foreskin back as far as she can manage it.

“I don’t want ya to die!” Rosalee wails, informing him of the obvious and not even Elvis’ tickles on her back can soothe her. Little Sam Harrison leaves off petting her wet cheeks and looks back, giving Elvis a hard stare that’s firm and straight outta left field as far as a clueless Elvis is concerned.

“What ya lookin’ at boy?” Elvis growls only to yelp as Elaine flicks his cock -in hopes of jostling the last bits of sand out.

The yelp breaks Ella’s resolve and the usually dutiful little eldest daughter drops her towel and scurries over to help her obviously insufficient mama. “Mama, where’s it hurt?” she demands to know with all the matronly surety of Elaine herself and Elvis launches upwards onto his knees in an attempt to cover himself. Laney and her Coke have done about all that’s gonna get done without a bath and some q-tips maybe-

-yeah, they’re done here. It's an effort to smash his cock back up his tight shorts lightening fast, when he put the article of clothing on he hadn't been sticky with coke. Elaine catches a flying Ella as she hurtles forward and keeps her spun away as Elvis modestly tugs on his leghole, mouthing to her husband with a vibrant smile,

“I’ll clean ya up at home!” Elaine fortifys him with a wink.

This sweet promise gets quickly smacked down with Jack having abandoned his post and coming up to Elvis on his chubby little toddler legs and asking with a bizarre amount of hope, “Does it hurt ya bery badly, Elbis?”

Never in a million years would Elvis give this imp the satisfaction of knowing it hurt like hell, besides, Elvis is now cradling a clinging Rosalee who keeps sniffling into his neck in a rain of snot that she’s gonna have Daisy “chop off his rocket” so it never happens again. “No, Trouble, I’m all better ‘cause mama loves me and fixed me up” Elvis goads with an ethereally content smile that Elaine catches and savors as she herself is in the middle of calming a spurned little Nurse Ella.

Jesse, peeved at his siblings lack of order, comes up and makes fussy noises in Jack’s ear as his baby brother swats at him like his mouth is a mosquito. “Ya ok, daddy?” he asks, the first selfless inquiry of this whole ordeal -alright Ella did too.

Elvis gives him a sober nod that the scarf will live to see another day. “Scarf’s fine and gonna make it.”

“No i’s not! We gonna chop it off!” Rosalee insists and Elvis would laugh that off except Daisy is up the beach bartering her juice box for Rex’s k-bar.

“Oh, honey now, that won’t solve nothin,” Elvis begs as he wraps his arms fully around her and smushes Rosalee till both their ribs are liable to crack.

Rosalee pulls her head out of his neck and cradles his cheeks in her hands and says while looking earnestly into his eyes with blues the same shade as his own, “Is’ better this way, daddy, s’never gonna hurt ya again. Promise.”

“It’s for de bestest, Elbis,” Jack agrees right at his shoulder like a tiny little devil and Elvis begins to panic slightly as his children’s wild terror cools into calculated anarchy. “Wosalee knows it’s gonna wot off odderwise,” he adds gravely as if this is common knowledge.

This induces a fresh bout of tears from Rosalee who may be resigned to the need to chop off a limb to save her father’s entire life -or at least have Daisy do her bidding- but it doesn’t mean that she’s immune to the grief the prospect causes them both. Elvis feels close to crying himself as Daisy rushes back towards them over the sand with the sheathed k-bar in hand.

“Rex why the hell did ya give my kid a knife!” he yells.

“She said you wanted it and would fire me if I refused!” Rex shoots back from where he and Charlie and Red are collecting all the beach paraphernalia, the evening truly setting in.

“Rex!” Betsy scolds, echoing Elvis in exasperation with her husband.

“Be a man about it, Daddy!” A breathless Daisy charges him as she skids to a stop nearby only for Elaine to grip her by the back of her swimsuit and haul her away from Elvis where he’s pinned and helpless under the mournful embrace of Rosalee and Jesse and a gleeful Jack.

“Nope, no Daisy, no, give it to me, now!” Elaine wrestles her most wiry and vicious daughter until the army knife is safely in her possession. “Nobody is gonna chop off anythin’,” she declares, winded from the chaos and yet utterly glutted from being in her element and Elvis thinks she looks gorgeous all keyed up and holding a child or two and a knife so effortlessly. Thinks he made the right choice when he married Elaine Phipps and filled her up with all those children.

“But what about it wotting?” Jack protests, as if he really gives a damn about Elvis ever peeing ever again.

“It won’t rot,” Elaine sighs, “It’s not that badly hurt at all.” And she adds that for Rosalee’s benefit as the girl’s cheeks are so smashed to Elvis’ own that there’s no discernible edge to the flub.

“But we wanna be careful,” Rosalee protests, “This can neber happen again.” And she sounds like Mr. Truman did after the great war ended, swearing that the universe wouldn’t make it in a nuclear age.

“Lil Elvis is my little friend, I don’t want him hurt either!” Elaine insists and between his children’s misguided concern for him and his wife making a court case for his assets, Elvis has never felt more loved.

“Daddy’s my best friend too, but I gotta help him,” Rosalee insists.

“But darling -I did help him!” Elaine mutturs.

“Didn’t sound like it got better,” Ella speaks up and Elaine glares at Elvis for being such a baby during his first aid.

“Billy says men can still pee without them,” Sam Harrison adds in support of Rosalee’s ambition and Daisy gives him a proud look for his display of spine.

“How do ya-“ Elaine looks flustered for the first time and Elvis winces in anticipation for what she’ll defend him with next, “-peeing would hurt, Sammy! Hurt worse than sand up scarves!” Elaine reasons.

“Sounds like it.” Jesse sides with mama.

“But if he don’t have a rocket it won’t hurt to pee-pee!” Daisy vehemently enunciates. “And Rosalee’ll stop cryin.”

It’s that simple for the twin.

Elaine looks up to her friend Besty who’s still standing near the group, helpless in a fit of laughter and holding half wadded up towels. “We aren’t cutting off my lil friend,” Elaine declares staunchly, standing up herself in the sand and wincing as a struggling Daisy elbows her in the ribs.

“Why don’t ya care that daddy’s hurt?” Rosalee asks with grief in her eyes.

“It’s gonna wot off.” There goes Jack again.

Elvis snorts and rolls his eyes heavenward, pinching the bridge of his nose and praying for a sliver of patience.“Hush up, Trouble. I’ve had just about enough outta you.”

“Do y’all want more siblings or not?” Elaine finally asks and even Elvis is a little jolted by it. “Cause without that nozzle there ain’t any peeing or babies or all sorts of important things. Y’all could manage without your noses far easier.”

Jack rallies to declare, “I’m baby, don’t want more sibwings,” and is summarily ignored by all in favor of pondering nozzles and their newly learned miraculous necessity.

“Elaine!” Elvis hisses at her indiscreet lesson.

“It’s true!” she cries, throwing up her hands in exasperation, and he’s maybe to blame for the fact she’s got no filter, he taught her without any precaution and now she’s half savage about these things.

“Rockets don’t rot off when they get enough care. Just like any other boo boo,” Elvis assures his group of concerned progeny as Elaine pulls Jack away from his father by the arm not occupied with Daisy.

“I can’t wait to play thirty questions with Sam tonight,” Betsy drawls sarcastically and Elaine huffs.

“Serves ya right, much help you were, Blue Eyes.” Elaine rolls her eyes at her friend and both women laugh. “Consider it payment for Rex’s K-Bar,” she adds and watches as Betsy’s face pales again at the recollection of her husband’s stupidity.

“That man…” she grumbles fondly while taking a squawking Jack off Elaine’s hip to free her friend up for more child wrangling. Elaine mouths a weary “thank you” and kneels next to Elvis, gently prying Rosalee out of his arms where she still clings to his neck. She lets out a small whine of protest which is quickly overtaken by a big yawn, her little fists rubbing her eyes sleepily.

“Come on baby, let’s get you dressed, hmm? It’s time to go home,” she murmurs, pulling a sundress over Roselee’s tiny frame before turning to help Daisy into her matching one, kissing her forehead tenderly and smoothing her hair down. Betsy and Rex start the slow procession of herding the gaggle of children towards the car, making sure everyone has a hand to hold. Elaine can still hear them chattering loudly about rockets and nozzles as she flops down in the sand, catching her breath a moment, trying to find the willpower to stand, to move. It’s been such a lovely day, but suddenly she’s bone tired, the exhaustion hitting her like a wave and threatening to pull her under.

Jerry ambles over as the guys start to gather everyone’s scattered belongings - beach umbrellas and chairs and coolers, remnants of a day well spent. He stares down at Elvis over the top of his aviator shades, the amusement on his face still threatening to spill over. He holds out a hand, “Help you up, Boss?”

Elvis scowls, swatting his hand away indignantly, “Don’t need no help, Jerrah, it’s just a scratch. Actin’ like I’m too wounded to stand on my own. I’m not an invalid, goddamnit! Git outta here and help those boys clean up this mess. God almighty, think I was a child, need some hand-holding or some shit.” He continues his grumbling as Jerry holds up his hands placatingly, shrugging his shoulders good-naturedly before jogging over to help the clean up crew.

Elvis watches him go, making sure he’s well out of sight before gingerly standing up, shaking a leg and adjusting his swim shorts, hopping from foot to foot a few times, hissing quietly. It snaps Elaine out of her reverie and she blinks slowly as a face-splitting yawn hits her out of nowhere. Elvis chuckles and pats her head, gently tugging on the chocolate curls that have become bouncy spirals in the salty ocean air.

“Ok Laney, let’s get you home. Had enough excitement today to last us the whole year,” Elvis chuckles, winking as he offers her a hand.

Elaine smiles up at him, shading her eyes with a red manicured hand, the setting sun casting a warm orange glow over the beach and making her movie star husband look even more like a bronzed Adonis, if that’s possible. She places her small and delicate hands into his larger ones as he hauls her up easily, wrapping her in his arms and resting his chin on the top of her head. She sighs dreamily, shivering a little in his embrace as his body heat warms her against the chilly sea breeze.

“Thank you, baby,” he whispers, rubbing slow circles on her back. She shifts a little, resting her head on his shoulder and looking up at him quizzically.

“For what, E?”

“Whatcha mean, ‘for what?’ For-for always takin’ such good care o’ me. Even when I’m a grumpy sonuvabitch about it.” Elvis smiles down at her, planting a little kiss on her button nose. She wrinkles it and arches up on her tippy toes, rubbing her nose against his in a bunny kiss, her hand cupping his jaw lightly.

“Oh Mopey, I’ll always take care of you. Sweet man.” Elaine runs a thumb across his lips, pulling down his plump bottom one before slotting her lips against his, her hands twining through his mussed hair, moving his head just so, like her own personal puppet on a string. Elvis groans, moving his hands to cup her bottom, pulling her tightly to him. Just then he hears a shuffling of sand behind them, someone discreetly clearing their throat. He sighs, like the most put upon man on the planet and pulls away, gritting his teeth, “What now, Jerrah?”

“Sorry boss, but everyone’s all packed up and ready to go. Just waiting on you and Mrs. Boss.”

Elaine smiles at Elvis’s look of utter hurt and disappointment at being interrupted just when things were getting good, like a little boy who’s just had his favorite toy taken away. She knocks him on the chin playfully, swatting his butt for good measure. “Oh now, don’t look so blue, mister. To be continued at home, yeah? In the meantime, how bout I buy you a milkshake. Swing by Mel’s Drive In on the way home?”

Elvis’s face brightens at that. “Can I have strawberry?” Suddenly the little boy look is back, and he practically skips across the sand, dragging Elaine by the hand to their car full of waiting children. Elaine gives Betsy a peck on the cheek and a sweet belly rub to the little bean inside before hopping in the driver’s side and waiting for Elvis to finish his goodbyes. She turns around to address her children only to find that all but two of them are fast asleep. Jesse and Jack are still discussing the events of the day, with Jack holding a sandy handful of shells and beach glass he collected, carefully explaining each piece to a patient Jesse. By the time they reach the drive in diner, all of the kids are snoozing, and the weary parents breathe a sigh of relief.

“Just us then,” Elaine whispers, looking over her shoulder at their brood. “Just like old times. Almost.” She turns off the car and scoots to the middle of the bench seat, and Elvis does the same, careful not to wake little Rosalee snuggled between them. He drops his arm over Elaine’s shoulders and twists the knob on radio dial until he finds a doo wop station.

“Now it really is like old times. ‘Member when I crashed your date with Billy at the drive in movie? Scared that poor boy half to death,” he chuckles gleefully. Elaine’s eyes grow wide and she starts to titter, her hand flying to her mouth at the recollection.

“Oh goodness. Elvis! I’d completely forgotten about that. You came barging in with your flashlight and ill or good intentions, I never could figure out which,” she muses.

“Then I drove ya home, real proper like,” he breathes quietly, placing a hand on her thigh, an echo of a memory. “And then,” he murmurs, tilting her head back, exposing her long, white throat, “I kissed ya, right…here…” His soft lips meet the pulse on her neck, pounding in time with her heartbeat.

Elaine shivers and swallows. “Naughty,” she whispers.

The magic spell is broken abruptly by a gum-chewing teenage waitress, knocking on their window. “Hi there! Can I take your order?” Her chipper cheerfulness is a stark contrast to their soft reminiscence. Elvis clears his throat and sits up, coloring slightly at being caught by this stranger as Elaine winks at him, leaning over to roll down the window to order their milkshakes. They settle in again, snuggling back together and regaling each other with stories from their beach day. Before long the milkshakes arrive, and they tuck in, enjoying the sweet sugar rush of the milky treat.

“God, how long has it been since I’ve had a milkshake?” Elvis wonders, sipping his strawberry concoction happily. Elaine doesn’t have the heart to tell him it’s been a good long while, that the Colonel doesn’t allow such simple pleasures these days. But she doesn’t want to spoil the moment so she settles for humming in response, squeezing Elvis’s knee as she slurps her chocolate one.

Elvis scoots a little closer to Elaine, forgetting about Rosalee squished between them. She startles in her sleep, her tiny arm flailing in the neon lights of the diner, inadvertently knocking Elvis’s shake from his hands. In a flash everything is covered in pink - it dribbles slowly down the dashboard and soaks into Elvis’s thin shirt, it’s even in his hair and a small blob drips down his right eyebrow. Elaine’s face is a mixture of horror and mirth, her perfect mouth a round o as she struggles to keep a straight face, staring at her husband who is frozen in place, covered in cold strawberry milkshake.

“Oh! Elvis…baby! I…” she starts, struggling to keep her voice steady, her hands fluttering around him, unsure of where they should try and help first. She bites her lip and an unladylike snort escapes as her shoulders start to tremble with held-in laughter. She starts to giggle, slapping her hand hastily over her mouth, her body shaking with silent laughter as she tries to keep quiet, not wanting to wake the children. Elvis’s blue eyes blink rapidly as the concoction runs down his cheek now, his mouth still hanging open in surprise. He starts to laugh, doubling over in his seat as Elaine reaches over and swipes a finger across his eyebrow and brings it to her mouth, sucking the sugary sweetness off her fingertip.

“You taste good, honey,” she wheezes as their laughter starts to die down and he remembers Rosalee between them, checking to make sure she’s ok and by some miracle she’s untouched by the ice cream bath she accidentally gave her father, still sleeping peacefully.

“Aw hell! My leather seats!” Elvis swears through hiccups, looking around for something to clean the car, and himself, up with.

“Shawbewies?” A little voice from the backseat whispers, followed by a blonde head sleepily popping up over the backseat. “I want some.” Jack opens and closes his tiny hands in a gimme motion, and Elvis and Elaine start to crack up again.

“Just perfect. Here Trouble, here’s some for ya,” Elvis says as he sweeps some shake off the dashboard with his fingers and leans back towards Jack, shoulder almost dislocating in an effort to feed the kid a taste. Jack happily laps it off his fingers like a kitten, licking them clean. His sleepy little face breaks into a happy grin and Elvis ruffles his hair. “That’s enough sugar for today, boy.”

Elvis looks at Elaine. She stares back at him a moment before another fit of giggles threatens to overtake them again. “Why’re we never alone in a car, baby?” Elvis whispers aloud, a comically pleading hint to his voice. Elaine reaches behind her, into the backseat, and snags a forgotten beach towel tossed aside by one of the children. She gently wipes his face clean before moving on to his hair, rubbing as much of the ice cream out as she can. It sticks up on end, making him look much like their cat Whiskers did whenever he got a bath.

“You’re the one who wanted to fill up my little house, remember?” she teases softly, her eyes drifting over their brood before returning to meet Elvis’s gaze. He raises an eyebrow, cheeks puffing out in droll amusement as he whistles lowly.

“Yeah, with somethin’ besides strawberry milkshake, I did.”

Hope y’all enjoyed!

If you’d like to be tagged in this particular series please drop a note below. Xoxo 💋

@prompted-wordsmith

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@thatbanditqueen

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@myradiaz

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@loving-elvis

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@50sexyshadesfashionista

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@lialocklear

@elvispresleywife

@presleysgirl6

@ipostwhtifeel

@jaqueline19997

@queenheartz

@starryschoolgirl

[xuhuihuis]

Falling, Fallen | Jung Jaehyun

➥ warnings: dom!sugardaddyjaehyun, sub!reader, cheating, name calling, fingering, hand jobs, cream pie, dacryphilia

Mr Jung’s daughter ran into the house from the garden when she heard someone pull up in the driveway. Her little face lit up as he heard the car pulling up next to the house and got up from her sandpit ready to meet her daddy at the door. Quickly getting up from the lounge chair leaving your book next to you following swiftly after the young girl. Panic turned into relief shortly after hearing giggles coming from the hallway, seeing Mr Jung attacking his daughter with kisses all over her face. 

Mr Jung looked irresistible when he was in his work uniform. The tight shirt down to the slacks that have been freshly pressed by the dry cleaners showing off his well toned body any time he moved. Mrs Jung is off on a girls trip to France, that’s why you have been asked to look after HeeYoung whilst Mr Jung went into the city to run the family business. She was still covered in sand from playing for hours but Mr Jung couldn’t care less about getting dirty for his baby girl. She had the same dimples as him when she smiled and it made your heart melt. It always made you think about when you had kids of your own dreaming about how life would be then but now it's just looking after other people's children which filled that hole for the time being. 

Leaving her with her father to go and get your bag ready to leave the Jung household for the night. Packing the last of your things into the bag, slinging it onto your shoulder but you could feel a pair of eyes on the back of your head watching your every move like a hawk. There he was, Mr Jung stood leaning against the door frame with his arms crossed over his chest watching your every move trying to divert his eyes from the way you moved across the room. 

‘Where do you think you are going?’

His deep voice startled you, making you jump. Mr Jung was not there when you went into the room and now he was standing behind you with his large hands on your shoulders making sure you were okay. The smell of his strong cologne filled your nostrils entrancing you in his smell sending shivers down your spine. Over the last few weeks the air between the both of you has been odd… 

Even with Mrs Jung in the room Mr Jung treated you like you were the only one in the room, giving you the princess treatment and not his wife who he has been married to for the last ten years. It was obvious that they had been arguing with each other when you weren’t in the room or out with their daughter. No love was there any more. Mr Jung had spent countless nights sleeping in the guest bedroom leaving his wife in the master bedroom without uttering a word to her. The only thing stopping them from getting divorced was their daughter, both of them only wanting to stay together for her.

“Are you home already?”

Your heart dropped hearing the slight break in his voice when he asked you the question. Being so close to him you could see the dark circles around his eyes showing you that he hasn’t been sleeping. He needed someone there to look after his daughter while he got a good sleep in an actual bed for once and not to deal with all of this on his own. Taking your hands into his waiting for you to answer him looking into your eyes like a lost puppy. It didn’t take much persuading from him to get you to stay the night.

Mr Jung was thankful that you were spending the night with him, he didn’t mean it but he pulled you into a hug letting you feel his half hard cock in his slacks quickly pulling away when he noticed that you felt it. Nothing else happened between you both after that incident apart from avoiding the topic of his cock, feeling every curve and vein. Mr Jung can even remember the last time he was touched in an intimate way. It's been so long. Having chemistry with you was so refreshing even though you may be younger it was still a breath of fresh air to talk to someone other than his wife who detested him. 

Moving down stairs and sitting on the couch all leading to spending hours upon hours talking and laughing with one another whilst his daughter played in her own world. It was good to know the man you were working for on a personal level really knowing what he likes and what he doesn’t, taking this as a chance to surprise him with his favourite treats for coming back home after a long day of work. Laughing with him, forgetting all of your worries when you are both together no matter if Mrs Jung happens to be there or not. 

The conversation was only broken by Mr Jung going to his room to get changed out of his suit and into something more comfortable and putting his daughter to bed. Shortly after you followed doing the same, going up stairs to get ready for bed letting Mr Jung have his house back. You were in your own world changing out of your own clothes and into the shirt Mr Jung gave you, he never wore it but it still smelled of his strong cologne even though it has been though the was multiple times before he gave it to you to wear.

Feeling embarrassed about how turned in you were just smelling the shirt Mr Jung has worn before you. The lace starts to get drenched in your essence when he hasn’t even touched you once, not even in a suggestive way. Even your cheeks were starting to get warm from the idea of Mr Jung’s lips on yours. Wanting to get lost in the feeling of his lips on yours holding him close to you grinding on his lap feeling his cock twitch beneath you.

HeeYoung crying in the room next to you snapped you out of the imaginary land your mind was taking you to. Quickly running out of the room and into her’s seeing the tears rolling down her cheeks as she dropped her bunny rabbit stuffie she couldn’t sleep without. Sitting on the edge of her bed giving her the toy and making sure to hold her close until calmed down from crying, then falling back asleep. Slightly moving her back onto her pillow before getting back up off her bed without waking her up was a challenge but you were successful. 

Closing her door softly making your way back to your room but across the hallway you see the door to Mr Jung’s office hung open and you could hear hushed swearing from behind it. He sat with his head in his hands with no thought behind his eyes when you peaked your head in looking to see if he was okay after locking himself in his office for hours. 

“Are you okay sir?”

“I think? I can’t figure out my new printer…”

He was embarrassed to say something like that to someone as young as you but he is sure you would have it fixed in no time and the documents for the next day could be printed in an instant. Mr Jung’s eyes widened seeing you standing there in nothing but his old t-shirt and your underwear looking at how beautiful your curves looked the closer you got to him taking you all in.

He was feeling a range of emotions he hasn’t in years, not since he met his wife. Mr Jung was getting lost in your body watching every sway of your hips as you walked past him trying to see what was wrong with his printer. Bending over slightly to make sure everything is plugged into the back correctly and then checking the ink, everything was fine and then you found the problem. There was no paper. 

“There was no paper in it Sir…”

His ears turned a slight shade of pink because of sheer embarrassment as his stupid mistake but you found it cute. In no time you had the paper into the printer and the documents printed for him. Thinking that was your cue to leave when the last sheet printed  but it was far from that. Feeling Mr Jung’s eyes fixated on you once again as you lean over accidentally flashing your lace panties to him, letting him see how wet you are. Tension in the room was stronger than it has ever been with nothing to pull you apart if something was to happen with you and Mr Jung.

Licking his lips whilst watching your every move waiting to pounce. Lust clouded over his dark eyes imagining you on your knees for him. His dark aura and stare was affecting you in many ways that you never expected it to. Trying your best to not give into the tension but it was difficult. Waiting for one of you to give in first, not wanting to ruin the bond you have with one another but the bubble was about to pop. 

Turning around to see a very visible tent in Mr Jung's pants and a light blush over his cheeks and ears from watching you work for the last five minutes. He couldn’t help himself; there was no holding back now, no matter if his daughter was in the room across the hall. Taking your hands in his pulling you on his lap once you got close enough. His warm breath fanning over your face rapidly, breaths getting heavier with every slight move you make on his lap.

“Now. You don’t tell my wife about anything that will happen next. Got it?” 

Taking your chin into his hold with his thumb and pointer finger making sure you look him dead in the eyes for what he is about to do…

His soft lips pecked yours leaving you speechless sitting there on his lap not knowing what to do next. Mr Jung thought he pulled the wrong move on you, he felt like his whole world was going to come tumbling in on him in the next seconds if you don't say or do anything. The smile you gave him was enough of a message for him smiling, avoiding eye contact with you the best he could. You found it cute how whenever he was embarrassed his ears turned a shade of pink and he couldn’t hide it no matter how hard he tried.

“You want to continue, Sir?”

Mr Jung quickly regained his confidence pulling you into another kiss but this time it was full of passion and craving for you. Slowly moving your hands down his neck to his thick biceps erupting a groan from the back of his throat at the feeling of your nails slightly digging into the muscle. Gripping onto the flesh of your ass harder as your hips start to grind on his clothed cock which was leaking pre-cum at the thought of you laying on his bed naked. Laying in the bed still thick with the scent of his wife's perfume and shampoo scent. He wanted the smell of sex to cover it up, not caring about the consequences it would leave him with. 

But he was too desperate to lead you to his bedroom…

Something in the way he looked at you changed in that moment but you weren’t complaining. His hands left your ass to unbutton his shirt but his lips never left yours while doing so. Mr Jung finally got what he wanted and he isn’t letting it go, not even for a split second. Nothing but moans and heavy breaths filled the room around you.

Taking your hand into his raising it to his lips kissing the back of your hand slowly trailing wet kisses up your arm watching every reaction from you. Mr Jung started to grind his hips into yours letting you feel every vein of his throbbing cock. He loved hearing every moan and cry, your moans were like honey to him begging for his cock but he was far from giving it to you. 

‘Such a pretty girl for me…’

The praise sent shivers down your spine reacting to it in a way you never expected. He just smirked at you as his lips trail up your arm rocking his hips into yours groaning deeply against your lips getting lost in the way you taste. Mr Jung never gets tired of the sweet taste no matter if his cock is begging to be inside of you. 

‘Hold on tight, my love’ 

Tightening your legs around his waist and neck as he stood up taking you to his bedroom laying you down onto the bed gently. Kissing along his sharp jawline as he carried you into the next room in his strong arms doing his best to be quiet not wanting his daughter to hear.  He placed you down gently on the bed placing a kiss on your cheek. Sitting up on your elbows as you watch his every move like a hawk. 

Hypnotised by every muscle flex as the soft moonlight flooded into the room illuminating his tall figure. Taking his time sliding his shirt off his broad shoulders dropping the fabric at his feet moving closer and closer to you. He got so close that you could smell his cologne letting the musky scent take over your senses. 

'Are you sure you still want to do this?' 

Gently nodding your head answering him never wanting this experience to come to an end no matter the consequences you would both face if anyone found out what you had been up to. Sitting up on the bed before reaching out to pull Mr Jung closer to you leaning his body weight on you feeling his aching cock rub your clothed core erupting a moan from him sighing in desperation.

‘I need you sir…’

Hearing the passion and desperation in your voice switched something inside of him letting his lips trail down your neck leaving wet kisses behind. Softly moaning, feeling his big hands reach under the fabric of your wet underwear before sitting up so your shirt could be discarded and Mr Jung could continue his teasing loving the way you squirm under him. Arching your back as his lips ghost over your sweet spot gasping softly as Mr Jung smirked against your skin loving every reaction you were giving him.

‘So responsive baby…’

The man is now laying in between your legs looking up at the fucked up mess that you were in without taking his dick. If this was the mess you were in with just his lips he couldn’t wait to see you after taking his thick cock. Even though he hasn’t done much yet Mr Jung was enjoying having you on your back begging for his cock. 

Covering your mouth holding back a moan the best you could struggling to keep your legs open when Mr Jung circled your clit with his thick fingers whilst nipping at the skin of your upper thigh. Letting your juices soak through the fabric over your underwear seeing how far he could take it before you snapped at him. The man sighed as his fingers hooked on the sides of your underwear before sliding them down slowly revealing your needy pussy, his eyes never leaving the sight of your leaking cunt. 

You have never felt so embarrassed in your life feeling so open and exposed to the man that has seen you every day for three years, watching as you take care of his daughter. There was a silence in the room before he sat next to you on the bed taking your hand into his. He cared about you so much and you could see it in the way his eyes lit up when he looked at you. 

‘We can stop if you don’t want this, I want you to be comfortable, Darling’

‘Don’t stop Sir…’ 

That was all the reassurance that he needed to keep going. He would never do anything that was going to hurt you or make you uncomfortable in any way. Mr Jung switched places with you on the bed laying down where you were as you took the spot next to him laying on your side running your hand up and down his thigh. Smirking as his hips buck up if your hand got anywhere near his cock. 

Making sure your eyes never left his expression slowly grazing your palm over his cock watching his eyes roll back into his head. Teasing him playing with his cock through his slacks feeling every twitch from under your palm. 

Reaching for his belt taking your time undoing it and then the zipper of his slacks pulling them over his hips and down his ankles. Your eyes lit up as you saw the outline of his thick cock pressing against the fabric of his underwear begging for your touch. Grazing from the base of his cock to his leaking tip with your nails smirking as he shivers under your touch.

‘Behave.’ 

The dominance in his voice was unexpected but you liked it, hearing how demanding he could be. It took all the power in you not to brat holding it all back just for this one night letting Mr Jung do whatever he wanted to you. Moving in between his legs until you were face to face with his cock ready to give him what he wanted but you decided to kiss down his lower stomach leaving lingering kisses right above his cock just to see how his muscles would tense, hissing at your actions.  

‘Now be a good girl for me…’ 

You couldn’t take his underwear off quick enough, that's what it felt like to you as you slid his underwear down his legs watching as his cock hit his stomach. Dropping the underwear on the floor next to you before wrapping your hand around his thick cock. Pumping your hand up and down his length from the base to the tip slowly watching as Mr Jung struggled to hide his moans from you. 

Making sure to run your thumb over the slit of his tip sending shivers down his spine all because of you. Beads of pearly white precum started to drip from his tip dripping down his head using it as a lubricant. Mr Jung was finding it hard to keep himself together fighting back his moans burying his head in his pillow trying to hide the fact his pink cheeks and half lidded eyes.

Bucking his hips up into your fist letting out his deep moans, his sounds were the only thing filling up the room. It was dirty but you loved the disgusting sounds of Mr Jung’s wet, dripping cock mixed with his beautiful moans and sighs. The pleasure started to build up inside of his lower stomach but he didn’t want to waste the opportunity, having you here fisting his cock just to waste it coming on your hand. He might not get this opportunity ever again and he hasn’t even had his cock inside of you yet.

‘Please ride me, Baby…’ 

Your eyes widened at what he just said not expecting it at all, Mr Jung needed you there and then he couldn’t deal with the teasing anymore. Hastily getting up from your spot between his legs to straddle his hips rubbing the head of his leaking cock up and down the lips of your cunt making you choke on a moan. Holding Mr Jung close to you close enough to feel the heat from his body as your arms snaked around his neck kissing his lips as he slipped his thick cock inside of you. 

Bliss…

It felt like you were on cloud nine finally having his cock inside of you stretching your walls making sure you can take him before moving. He is in no rush as he wants to savour the moment, never wanting to forget it. Hands massaging up and down your sides waiting on you adjusting to his cock admiring the beauty that you are. The dark marks blossoming on your neck and collar-bones showing who you belong to when you leave this house. 

‘You ready Princess?’

Nodding your head before burying your head into his neck before he took over starting to rock his hips against yours holding you tightly. Finally being able to let go letting every muscle in your body relax just focusing on the pleasure Mr Jung was giving you. Smiling against his neck as he picked up the pace fucking into you quicker. The bedroom was filled with sounds of skin on skin mixed with your moans. 

Mr Jung took your chin into his hold whilst still rocking his hips into yours never wanting to stop, his warm breath fanning over your face. Eyes glossed over with lust thinking about nothing other than you. Maintaining eye contact with Mr Jung whilst he hit that spot inside of you that made you see stars smirking finding your reactions adorable. Falling apart for the man you work for, hopefully this won’t change anything or it will just make things better in many ways. 

The forced eye contact made you feel small and vulnerable in his big, strong arms as your weak legs were shaking as you struggled to take his cock. Clinging onto his flexed biceps trying to hold your weak body up as Mr Jung repeatedly rubbed against your walls fucking into you like a fuck doll.

His pretty doll…

Incoherent babbling filled the room the closer you got to an orgasm going completely numb in his arms. By now you had no energy left to try and meet his thrusts fucking yourself on his cock. Drool started to drip down your chin and moans flowed out of you constantly without even caring, just wanting to cum and reach bliss totally relaxing. 

‘Come on Darling, almost there…’ 

Tears started to flow down your face bouncing recklessly on his cock with all the power left in your lower body. Legs shaking and eyes begging silently Mr Jung knew what you were trying to say to him. Words weren’t an option now the ability to talk was gone a while ago. Mr Jung didn’t stop nor change anything he was doing but he held you closer as the tears fell down your cheeks as it all became too much. 

‘I'm here Darling. I've got you…’ 

Everything went numb in your body, seeing nothing but stars. He was talking you through the overwhelming orgasm but it was impossible to hear anything. Trying your best to hold back moans not wanting complaints in the morning but it was hard. Not long after Mr Jung was grunting bucking his hips into yours sloppily shooting his thick white cum into you covering your walls in his warm, thick cum. 

Mr Jung ran his thumb over the apple of your cheek feeling the heat still radiating off of them giving you all the time you need to calm down. Groaning quietly as he sees his cum slowly drip out of your hole. The silent room was quickly filled with the buzz of a phone on the side table next to the bed. 

It was Mrs Jung calling…

[sandpitturtlescove]

posting this to here instead of main cause it's art we're not particularly proud of and it's also specifically one of our headmates LOL

fuck it, poob with a pressure document cause they have source memories of playing the game and also to celebrate a bunch of random dumb shit wahoo - core (+ 🎉)

[eternity-death]

Okay… 2.1 thoughts (mostly revolving around Sunday bc I am obsessed with him)… SPOILERS AHEAD FOR THOSE WHO HAVENT COMPLETED THE QUEST!!!

PART 1

"You got to prove your worth to Sunday before you can speak with him." MEOOOOWWWWW

Aventurine pointing out Sunday's need for control and calling him insecure made me laugh out loud.

Also, the slipping into Sunday's collar... tee hee...

Do you guys think Yan Sunday puts you in the sand pit when he's upset with you...

It's either time-out in the sandpit or a "nice walk" through the real dreamscape. You obviously choose the pit. And now you're stuck with the creepy Oak family puppets for the foreseeable future. It's unnerving and lonely, and despite your shrunken size you start to feel a little claustrophobic.

When Sunday feels you've had enough time to... reflect on your actions... he approaches the sandpit and asks if you're ready to behave.

And yes, he does expect a sincere and lengthy apology.

"Breathtaking view" more like BREASTtaking. We know what you were really looking at, Aventurine.

These are important because in my endless list of drafts I have some hc’s of Sunday being a neat freak and I was correct!!!

Further reinforcing my hc that Sunday would like to help you get ready in the mornings.

Part of it is to satisfy himself and the other part is to make sure you look acceptable and appropriate.

SCREAMED… SUNDAY MIND CONTROL POWERS CONFIRMED…

We now know that he can take away one’s ability to lie… though this is probably just the tip of the iceberg.

THIS SCENE IN PARTICULAR AIWHEGRHWHHWHWHEHAGHW… SCREAMED AGAIN… WITHOUT THE S….

THAT SMILE… WHEN HE KNOWS HE HAS AVENTURINE RIGHT WHERE HE WANTS HIM… INSANITY… MEEOOEOOOOWWOWOW….

[pis3update]

Unhide Hidden Skills by Dandelion Sprout

"At the time I originally wrote this (6th of November 2023), I had as many as 7 mods and 1 mod update being WIP, so I decided to take care of the one that would be quickest to complete. Have you ever wondered, "When is my Sim ever going to get a level-up notification?", "Does this activity even have a skill?", or "When on earth will I start getting DJ gigs, to the point I wonder if DJ gigs even exist"? In any of those cases, it's your lucky day. The mod changes only one file, "Skills" in GameplayData.package. The only changes made in that file, are to remove the "(Hidden)True(/Hidden)" rows from the following sections: • AirGuitar • ArcadeMachine • Ballet • BallFighting (Water balloon, snowball, and dew fights) • Bowling • BroomRiding • Bubbles (Presumably bubble bars) • BugEating • ChildAthletic • ChildBassGuitar • ChildDrums • ChildGardening • ChildGuitar • ChildPiano • ClubDancing • Collecting • Consignment (Reputation at consignment stores) • Dancing • Darts • Diving (as in diving boards and dive wells) • DJTurntable • Entertainer • Firewalking • Foosball • Gambling • Gnubb • Hacking (Computer Nerd / Investigator computer hacking) • Homework • Horseshoes (Horseshoes courts) • Karaoke • Lycanthropy • Magic • Mooch • PerformanceArtist • PingPong • Pool (as in pool/billiards tables) • Sandbox (Presumably sandpits, possibly sand terrain) • Scouting • Shuffleboard • Skating (as in rollerskating and ice rink skating) • SnakeCharming • Snowboarding • Spellcasting • Styling • Tattooing • Trampoline • Trick (as in tricking other Sims) • VideoGame • Waterskiing • WildlifeFriend • Windsurfing

...continued on MTS (+ more pictures)"

More Info + Download @MTS.