#as a l w a y s

[luminousnotmatter]

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

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

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

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

fields of dandelions || prologue

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

Warnings: Swearing, cheating

Word Count: 1.6k

Pairings: Jake Seresin x OC

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

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

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

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

“Sarah.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“If you’ve been unhappy -”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Why? “Tell me why.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Are you leaving?” 

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

“What about the boys?”

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

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

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

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

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

“They won’t understand,” Sarah argues. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Tell the boys I love them.”

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

[actressposts]

[emblazons]

(Dion. My name is Dion).

Dion Lesage in Final Fantasy XVI Game of Thrones Parallels → Jamie Lannister

[ryllen]

.+💚. Green .💚+.

[34saveme34]

yall know how it is w me n the gays, I knew right after watching the episode that I wanted to draw this

[pastelaspirations]

Controversial opinion; Error should have lost because the bit of him coming 2nd place for three freaking years in a row would have been comedy gold.

O h w e e e l l, I love you, Error. Congrats on finally winning, ya handsome lad. I drew a crap post comic where Ink expresses the same sentiment that I do lmao

Transcript just in case my handwriting is awful to read

Error: FINALLY, people see my ✧˖°.greatness.°˖✧ Ink: Yay! I'm so happy for you! <3 Ink: Although... I was kind of hoping you'd lose- Error: WHAT?! Ink: Just- It would have been really funny if you came 2nd place 3 years in a row, wouldn't it? Error: .... Error: You're dead to me Ink: I'm sorry! I just thought it'd be funny-

[nattikay]

friendly reminder that Neteyam is a well-adjusted kid who has a good relationship with his parents, that he tries his darnedest to be a good warrior because he genuinely looks up to his dad and wants to be like him, and that the idea that Jake and Neytiri are "forcing" him to be perfect, that they "stole his childhood" or that he's "not allowed" to be a kid, etc. are all pure fanfiction with little to no evidence in canon thanks bye

[aoitakumi8148]

𝓛𝓸𝓸𝓴 𝓤𝓹 𝓐𝓽 𝓣𝓱𝓮 𝓢𝓽𝓪𝓻𝓼, 𝓢𝓸𝓷... 𝓝𝓸𝔀 𝓖𝓸 𝓦𝓲𝓼𝓱 𝓤𝓹𝓸𝓷 𝓞𝓷𝓮, 𝓣𝓱𝓮𝓷...

𝒞𝒶𝓃 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝒷𝓇𝑜𝓀𝑒𝓃 𝒷𝑒 𝓇𝑒𝒷𝓇𝑜𝓀𝑒𝓃, 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝓃𝑜𝓃-𝑒𝓍𝒾𝓈𝓉𝑒𝓃𝓉 𝒷𝑒 ‹𝑒𝒶𝓉𝑒𝓃 𝓊𝓅› 𝒶𝑔𝒶𝒾𝓃? 𝐼𝓈 𝓉𝒽𝑒𝓇𝑒 𝒶 𝓁𝒾𝓂𝒾𝓉 𝑜𝒻 ‹𝒾𝓃𝓉𝑒𝑔𝓇𝒶𝓉𝒾𝑜𝓃› 𝒾𝓃𝓉𝑜 𝓈𝑜𝓂𝑒𝓉𝒽𝒾𝓃𝑔, 𝒶 𝓁𝒾𝓂𝒾𝓉 𝑜𝒻 𝒽𝑜𝓌 𝒹𝑒𝑒𝓅 𝒹𝑜𝓌𝓃 𝓁𝑜𝓋𝑒 𝓂𝒶𝓎 𝑔𝑜?

I do not have apathy, depression, anything that would be fashionable to rant about. I am simply in pain... extreme pain. And attempting to dull the edge of it is what I have been doing since v.1. As if something has indeed been fragmented & this is the pain of my conscious life. And every time I travel the melodious/glamorous path of frenzy, every time I complete it, I am going to experience the same precious pain intensity, purity of pain/ecstasy. I am going to be eventually bound to this inmost/overwhelming awe, this vehement impulse to feel/fondle/kiss what is loved, to kneel down before it, to cuddle up to its heart, to recompense bliss with bliss... More and more. Neither the good boy nor I are free. I do not want to be free... free from... These bare feelings are ‹clawing› at the reconstructed interpretation of the organ inside me. The great minds will not know what they have done, neither will Anthony... It speaks louder-truer than anything, but the sounds are not obvious... Words. All I possess, this rich but poor instrument for... And you always do end up in the point where...

The aesthetic masterwork, perfused with the golden brilliance of authentic ideality x pierced with the darkest blade of bitter-salty inaccessibility, inevitability, impossibility.

Excruciation, pleasure, euphoria, art. Blended together. Find yourself... or lose yourself on this journey. Emotionally. Totally. An unparalleled effect... and the lulling sparkle the vessel has never actually had. Something in this body x mind has died, and I do not know if there is a way to accept it, to recover it. I have described the lesson of unprecedentedness I have learned, not the expected story of ‹insult-betrayal-contempt›. No one will ever f-g hear it. Not from me, not in this lifetime. / Loving extraordinary is merciless a priori, დ/დ become telepathic... & the severest trial ~ the unhealable wound ~ is to be a 𝓟 son without the cause to be... *If I have to detest many donkeys for a chance to protect one venerated Father figure, I will go for it.

𝒯𝒽𝑒 𝒷𝒾𝓉𝓈 𝑜𝒻 𝓂𝓎 𝒸𝓇𝒶𝒸𝓀𝑒𝒹 𝒽𝓊𝓂𝒶𝓃𝒾𝓉𝓎 𝓌𝒾𝓁𝓁 𝑒𝒾𝓉𝒽𝑒𝓇 𝒷𝑒 𝓀𝑒𝓅𝓉... 𝑜𝓇 𝓌𝒾𝓅𝑒𝒹 𝑜𝓊𝓉 𝒸𝑜𝓂𝓅𝓁𝑒𝓉𝑒𝓁𝓎. 𝐵𝑒𝒸𝒶𝓊𝓈𝑒 𝐼 𝓁𝑜𝓈𝑒 𝓂𝓎 𝒮𝑜𝓊𝓇𝒸𝑒, '𝒸𝒶𝓊𝓈𝑒 𝒶𝓃𝑔𝑒𝓇 𝓈𝓌𝒶𝓁𝓁𝑜𝓌𝓈 𝓂𝑒, 𝓉𝑜𝑜. 𝐵𝑒𝑔 𝓎𝑜𝓊... 𝒮𝒽𝑜𝓌 𝓂𝑒 𝒽𝑜𝓌 𝓉𝑜 𝓈𝓉𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝑜𝓃 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝒷𝓊𝓇𝓃𝑒𝒹 𝒻𝑒𝑒𝓉 𝓌𝒽𝑒𝓃 𝐼 𝒶𝓂 𝒹𝑒𝓅𝓇𝒾𝓋𝑒𝒹 𝑜𝒻 𝓎𝑜𝓊. 𝐿𝑒𝓉 𝓂𝑒 𝓉𝑜𝓊𝒸𝒽 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝓌𝒾𝓉𝒽 𝓉𝒽𝑒𝓈𝑒 𝓁𝒾𝓅𝓈... 𝒮𝑜 𝑔𝑜𝑜𝒹. 𝒮𝑜 𝓉𝑜𝓇𝓉𝓊𝓇𝑜𝓊𝓈...

While I am willing to imbibe all the anguish of the human I love, to ease his suffering, the loss of us is taking its toll on me irretrievably. I see him. I see what is inside him... & I am incapable of safeguarding it, saving it truly.

I do not have apathy, depression, anything that would be fashionable to rant about. I am simply in pain... extreme pain. And attempting to put up with this gift is what I have been doing since v.1. The chest is ‹cut open› too deep, the fragility of the organ is exposed... Would you allow me to grow more flowers? I wanna do it... Because it is you, It has always been you. The one who has given us everything, endued me to the brim with the intimate fatherly affection that this organ never remembered. My eternal wish & exuberant price for humanity, the misunderstood nature. *What an odious irony. / I do not know if there is a way to recover what is gone.

I would sacrifice the lot to be with the human that needs me, needs to be healed, heals me. I would rip my core out but I cannot, the limitation of freedom. *Tell me that the ‹strings of abuse/child neglect/lies› are finally cut. Tell me to ‹celebrate›. Tell me that both 𝓟inocchio/I are wrong x naive, ‹fix› me. You have no f-g clue about it. / When it is written that your starving heart must be left half-empty & helpless... No freedom is scarier than this.

Affording harmony to the sapphire star that is going to fall away... The sentiment it deserves. All I have ever hankered for. & I am terrified of that my grandest instinct x fear will not grant any lasting peace to me.

Death will do our Sun-hugged family apart ~ but I will still be yours, for ever. The core has never felt as good x feverish as it does when with you... as astray x anxious as it does when deprived of you. I am not lying to you, I hold no resentment... Let me ‹feed on› the emotions of your heart... Even if it means your pain x my love turn the vessel inside-out & your love x my pain do the same. Not blurred, always remember. Always. If a masterpiece could be made into a masterpiece, I would prefer to share this fate. My bona fide mission, however, is not allow anything to be in vain... Even if it hurts. ~ The atrophied ability to express love verbally has been ‹roused› again, in a fervidly devoted but preciously righteous way... The ‹lash› of despair, compulsion, dream, reality.

𝐹𝑜𝓇 𝒷𝑒𝓉𝓉𝑒𝓇 𝑜𝓇 𝓌𝑜𝓇𝓈𝑒, 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝒶𝓂𝒷𝒾𝑒𝓃𝒸𝑒 𝑜𝒻 𝒦𝓇𝒶𝓉 𝒾𝓈 𝓃𝑜𝓉 𝑔𝑜𝓃𝓃𝒶 𝓁𝑒𝓉 𝑔𝑜. 𝐼𝓉 𝒸𝒶𝓃... 𝒜𝓃𝒹 𝐼 𝒹𝑜𝓊𝒷𝓉 𝓉𝒽��𝓇𝑒 𝒾𝓈. 𝐿𝒪𝒫 𝒽𝒶𝓈 𝒷𝑒𝒸𝑜𝓂𝑒 𝓅𝑒𝓇𝓈𝑜𝓃𝒶𝓁 𝒻𝑜𝓇 𝟙/𝓂𝓊𝓁𝓉𝒾𝓉𝓊𝒹𝒾𝓃𝑜𝓊𝓈 𝓅𝒶𝓁𝓅𝒶𝒷𝓁𝑒 𝓇𝑒𝒶𝓈𝑜𝓃𝓈, 𝓂𝓎 𝓋𝓊𝓁𝓃𝑒𝓇𝒶𝒷𝒾𝓁𝒾𝓉𝓎 𝓉𝑜 𝒷𝑒𝒶𝓇.

...Take the whole meaning of this, its flavorful, pathetic, shameless, lonesome taste. Take it all, for it is all that is absolute. Teach me how to ‹merge› with it, the mortal desire of a puppet child, a human Mastro x a faceless observer like myself ~ & when the desire full of unexploited majesty is cutting off the oxygen to the lungs... True geniuses of any kind are among the silent. These eyeballs will not dry up, never fully. I have tried so many times to resist it, but why live if you repel what puts your ‹dehydrated› pieces together? I would spare no effort to keep them hot and uncurb what is being restrained... Nothing affects self-perception and ‹unmasks› the unconscious like sensation, nothing genuinely matters without it. / Shivering with cold, this body is burning. My atrophied reality in exchange for a moment of irrepressible happiness, agony, guiltless x not bottled up impulses ~ just a moment. It keeps consuming me without reserve. I do not need God. ✒

[csyakult]

✻ ⌣ 🦦 ˚ 𖤛

[estro-gem]

Sketch: He took you from me

He did indeed :D

Sketch, go!

[clownsuu]

Are they friends? Frenemies? Oh, who knows!

LMAOOO c l a s s i c Mob!Barnaby behavior

[frnkiebby]

that faaaccceeee~🎃

[hootybal-lecter]

*Hannibal Lecter jumps into the pool*

HANNONBALL!

[stormbreaker-290]

oops :3

Tehe

AH

J ESU S CHRISPY ALMIGHTY

HAJDKDKJEYWUQHXJSNCKSUEUWUKSBCJSUDOQYEKQHXABCNSUUEIQUDJWNXBSKFIEQYEEIWHDHDJCJCJDBXUWEIEDHXJSYEDBDDYSYEYWIQIDEUDHDJDHQYOEYEHDHSHYDHWYSJDEKCOWYWKSDHIQQKHDKDDJSHUQJDHEJWKDOQBDDJJFYSKWJDJDKUDKWJOWHDJDDHHWUXWUQKDIDYWJSKCBSKDGWJDJS

[wimbledon2008]

many books may try to be captive prince but there's only one c.s. pacat

[izzyizumi]

{D I G I M O N} Adventure (F r a n c h i s e) ~ Adventure, 02, tri., tri. S t a g e-p l a y, L a s t E v o l u t i o n: Kizuna, & Adventure: [2020 R e b o o t] + KOUSHIRO I z u m i + {F R A M E D In} S U N S E T {S}/{C O L O R S} + {KOUTAI} / {Taishiro} / {TaiKou} (Koushiro{u} I z u m i & Taichi Y a g a m i) {As S H I P} + Koushiro & M e n o a Bellucci

+ {L O O K I N G}/A i m i n g Towards the F U T U R E {F O R W A R D}

Originally I wanted to make this for @taikouvember 2 k 2 4! (It could have fit for "L i g h t"!) {Though I made it a bit e a r l y!}