#so I’m sticking to bria

[rusty-gloinks]

Bria :]

[head---ache]

hiii (i’m so scared to not be anonymous when asking)

so i know that bria is a balanced type, but like, what if he was a speed type? like bc mina has super speed and then their other mom sonia is sonic’s triplet sister, which means bria’s also related to that speed? idk idk it’s just been in my brain lately just what if he was super fast :]

and one last thing i’m so excited for updated fankid profile sheets bc i adore them all

the thing with bria is that they don't really have a power, and in fact, they're not really the fighter type either.

If you're familiar with Mina's story you'll know she tried to fight, but she wasn't that good at it (compared to the main characters), so she decided (with the help of Sonic) to instead be a singer, and help people that way, by giving them joy and all that. that's kind of what I see in Bria!! When I say they're the balanced type, in this case I mean that she doesn't really fit in any of the other categories. He does fight when needed, of course, but relies on their knowledge of martial arts (and maybe weapons, haven't decided yet) over any super power in those cases. If not, he sticks to bringing hope and high spirits to their friends and everyone who might need it!

So yeah, she could be a speed type, but I think balanced just fits her better, seeing as she isn't particularly fast (like Emmie for example), or strong (like Spades who I don't even know why I originally made her a speed type when shes very clearly to me a power type lmao), and doesn't even fly nskdbskxnskx

[nostalgic-bee]

Hello! Hope you're doing great! My turn to ask for a character breakdown! How about Gus or Willow? :)

Hello!! I decided to do both Gus and Willow! :D

Willow

Sexuality headcanon: Dana has said before that she wrote Willow to be pan so I see her as pan!!

Favorite ships?: I guess her and Hunter!! I hope this doesn’t sound mean but I tend to stick to canon ships and since Huntlow is at least heavily implied I’d say them!!

Brotp: Her and Gus their friendship is the cutest thing!!!

Notp: I feel like I kinda answered this with my favorite ship question? I guess her with any member of the hexsquad who isn’t Hunter, and her with any adult character is a notp

Random headcanon: When she’s in the human realm she gets fascinated by the idea of flower language and learns everything about it

General opinion: I like her! She’s a good character and she has some funny moments in the show, I’m not sure if she’s in my top five favorite characters but I still like her a lot and she’s a well done character!

Gus:

Sexuality headcanon: I actually really love the idea of him being aromantic!! I feel like it fits because we don’t really see him actually experience romantic attraction (I guess you could make an argument about Bria from TTLGR but I personally didn’t interpret that as romantic)

Favorite ships: I don’t really ship him with anyone, i absolutely love his character but I personally just didnt think he had much chemistry with any characters to ship them (probably partially bc of my headcanon)( also I have nothing against gustholomule, I can appreciate it and the ship is nice, I just personally don’t ship it much)

Brotp: HIM AND AMITYYYY!! I will never shut up about the friendship potential these two had okay? I’m so sad they barely interact one on one!! In my heart they are actually best friends they would have the sweetest friendship I need it to exist

Notp: again I think I kinda answered that with the favorite ship question, I’ll say him with any of the hexsquad though. Or him with any adult character.

Random headcanon: He uses his illusion magic to recreate scenes from cosmic frontier and shows them to the hexsquad

General opinion: I LOVE HIM!! In my top three favorite TOH characters, he’s such a good character and I absolutely love him. I wish he wasn’t so forgotten by the fandom though because he’s just great.

[bridgeportbritt]

Sims Say the Darnest Thing: When you get this, list five of your characters and their best quotes so far. Then pass it on to five other storytelling simblrs.

Hi Sarah! Oh, this is a good one! Hmmm. Let's see. Luckily, I have 5 main characters so let's see.

Bria: I can’t believe you got me up in this damn principal’s office like I’m in trouble!

This one just always sticks out to me as one of the funniest things Bria's ever said. That might not be true because she's said a lot of funny things, but this one cracks me up.

Diana: You serve the public. You serve the crown. You serve me.

One of the first times we saw our Queen stand up for herself and be the Queen she was meant to be! You go, Diana.

Grayson: Thanks Em… but, no offense, I’m not really interested in the Royal life.

This line is so funny to me because this man is now engaged to a Countess lol A very intentional one because I knew his path from the beginning.

Gianni: Yeah, whatever. I don’t trust these ones. Especially Pretty Boy over here.

There are many reasons why I love this line. 1) It's funny 2) Pretty Boy has stuck with Eric in the friend group. It's what Ella has him as in her phone. 3) It shows that Gianni may seem like a jerk but deep down he really does love his siblings lol

Ella: Can you guys stop making googly eyes at each other? The ballerinas are waiting!

The moment we knew this girl was going to be sassy like her mother. Also when we knew she was going to be a ballet extraordinaire!

[briamichellewrites]

60

We need to have a cat play date with Rob and Mowgli. – Bria

“We?” Who’s “we?” If Bria meant herself, then yes. Mike thought it sounded interesting. He had no idea how the cats would respond to having Mowgli in their house. Jason agreed with the idea. He would have to ask Rob. That was something he would leave up to her to do. He was staying out of it. Jason stretched before joining his brother on the couch. He just flew into London. Jason picked him up from the airport and brought him to his flat. He was beyond happy to have him there.

You can talk to Rob about that. They’re your cats. It sounds like a good idea, though I’m not sure how it would work. Talk to him and see what he says. – Mike

Will do. – Bria

Brad didn’t have a problem with the idea of a cat play date. Micha and Henry might like playing with whoever the other cat was.

“Mowgli.”

“Who’s Mowgli? Was that the kid?”

“Yeah, dude. Mowgli is the little boy.”

He laughed. “Gah, now I have to remember who everyone is. Mowgli, I know for sure. There’s a tiger, a panther, a snake, and a gorilla.”

She grabbed her laptop from where it was sitting beside her. Everyone came in, as she was naming off the characters from the Jungle Book. He laughed because it had been a long time since he had seen that movie. George asked them what they were talking about. Bria told them about the conversation she was having with her brother in law, Mike. Jason had an idea of having a cat play date.

Mike was leaving it up to her and their friend, Rob. Why were they talking about the Jungle Book? Rob’s cat was named, Mowgli, so Brad couldn’t remember which character he was.

“It’s one of those conversations where it starts one way before veering off into another direction.”

They laughed.

“We were talking about Rob and his cat, Mowgli. That led to us talking about the Jungle Book because his cat’s name is Mowgli”, he said with a smile.

“He is so adorable. Oh my god. He got him around the same time I got Micha. It was also around the same time my dad got Princess. It was either the late nineties or the early two thousands.”

They laughed. Jason showed Mike around London. As it was Saturday, they both slept in. They then had breakfast before heading out. The city was busy with Londoners going about their daily lives. It was a beautiful city with a lot of history going back thousands of years to 47 AD.

The Romans were the first people to colonise it. It was then fought and taken over by various groups. They took a hackney carriage to the downtown area. He wanted him to see where he worked. The downtown area was modern compared to the more historic part of London. The building was closed, as it was a weekend but he had a key.

He said hello to the security guard posted at the front. After showing him his badge, they were allowed in. Thank you. His desk was a little messy with papers scattered around. He had a picture of their family at his wedding, along with his license for landscape architecture, a bobble head French bulldog, and a small Japanese flag. It wasn’t a lot because he was still adding to it. Mike pressed down on the dog’s head, making it bob up and down. He laughed.

“I got that at a store that had a bunch of random stuff. I like to use it when I need a break for a few minutes. It’s also a conversation starter.”

“It’s adorable. The dogs would love it.”

He laughed again.

Dave and Chester were attempting to keep up with the animals’ demands. All while making sure Henry didn’t hurt himself again. The dogs needed to go outside to use the bathroom and Princess was demanding attention. Chester held Henry, as he got the dogs ready. Dave took the cat from him, so he could have his hands free. Thank you. He got his shoes on before attaching the leashes to their collars. Kate pawed at the door. I have to go to the bathroom!

After getting plastic bags and sticking them into his pocket, he opened the door. The dogs pulled him out. He had to tell them to stay. They let him catch up before walking off. Henry meowed because he saw his sister looking up at him. Dave asked her if she was jealous of her brother. She meowed in denial. How dare he accuse her of such a thing!

“Princess, it’s Henry’s turn right now.”

Meow! She followed them into the cat room, where Micha was hanging out. He went in there to escape his sister. She was complaining about something and he just wanted quiet. He was using the cat tree to sharpen his claws when they came in. Princess climbed the jungle gym to the top. Now she could see everything! She liked being taller than the humans.

Dave brought Henry over to a dangling rope on the floor. He used his paws to bat at it like it was a mouse. Get back here, you! He grabbed it with his paws and pulled it into his mouth. Yum! Yum! He rolled over to his back and watched the rope swing around. If he could, he would pounce on it. Unfortunately, he had to wait until he was fully healed. He grabbed the rope again but it slipped through his paws. Dave sat down next to him. Micha came over to see how his brother was doing.

Henry swiped at him. He jumped out of the way just in time. Hey! Micha got distracted by a ball. He swatted at it, as it moved around the floor. Princess used her paw to clean her face. As a princess, she had to be clean at all times. That was her number one rule. The other was demanding attention or food. When she didn’t get either, she fell to the floor in a tantrum. How dare they not treat her like royalty!

Chester made sure the dogs did their business. They did. He complimented them. Thank you, human! They sniffed at the air, as their nose picked up different scents. Growler barked because he saw a squirrel. Haha! You can’t catch me, dog! He growled and barked at it. Get back here! The squirrel ran off laughing because it was too fast. It ran up a tree using its little claws. Chester pulled him away. He whined because he wanted to chase the squirrel.

Bruiser reminded him there would be other squirrels to chase. He grumbled. One day he would get that stupid squirrel! When they got home, he ran to his toys and started chewing on a stuffed rabbit. Kate asked him if pouting was worth it. Yes, yes it was. She went to the kitchen to get some water, leaving him to his stuffed rabbit.

@zoeykaytesmom @feelingsofaithless @alina-dixon

[dyonatto]

Part two of these sweethearts 🫶

Day 11- Slasher

With my Tiger Aníbal cosplaying the texas massacre (that’s Lloyd’s fur btw)

Day 12- Burn

This is Ellise, she’s a fruit bat! And also is on fire!

Day 13- Slice

Tbh I had nothing for this one so I just googled “sliced meat” and used an image for inspiration, this is Orlando, a skunk

Day 14- Eyes

Again, before deciding to stick to ocs, I was gonna draw Yukari Yakumos from touhou in this one, instead I put Tyson, a panther, through a very painful process

Day 15- Self Inflicted

Everyone say hello to Bria again!

Day 16- Deconposition

Tyson is fucking dead

Day 17- Too Much Blood

Dimitri again, cannibalising the same Lloyd again

Day 19- Bones

This is a concept I really wanted to use and I’m actually satisfied with it, this os Hernesto, a hare

Day 20- Impalement

Zach cannot catch a break (he did catch a break after this one I’m lying)

And this one wraps part II, day 18 is gonna be highlighted on it’s own post because it’s my favorite

OKAY time for the Gotetober Challenge Reveal

Under cut (consider this is gore so a lot of blood, bones and kind of gruesome imagery, if it’s not your cup of tea it’s alright, move on)

Day 01- Cannibalism

This is one of two line-arts in this, everything else is in sketches, the Badger is Dimitri and the remains are from a wolf called Lloyd

Day 02- Sharp Object

Dimitri again, I was gonna draw Minamitsu from touhou getting impaled by a harpoon here but decided to keep it OC focused instead, he has a fork in his other hand but is out frame

Day 05- Amputation

The medical expert in picture is a wonderful fella called “Dr. Miasma” and is a cunt

Day 06- Bugs

As a fun fact many IRL friends got irked by this one, Oswald is a Wolverine and is a protagonist! (My condolences)

Day 07- Accident

Something more tame yet much more annoying for good little Oswald

Day 08- Bruised

Danielle (the Husky) got into a bad fight and Brianna (The Fox) is scolding and caring for her

Day 09- Torture

Of COURSE I was gonna use my favorite method of Torture ❤️ (The Otter is Zach, second sweetest guy of these ocs)

And this will do for part I, on my way to do part II

[heartsofminds]

Pink Stripes

Jake rolls his eyes. “I need to come over.”

“Is that how you talk to your hook-ups? Cause if so, I’m still not seeing the appeal.” or Jake Seresin’s upbringing shapes him into the best Navy pilot there is and also the best dad ever. 

i. 

There’s something about watching a stiff ceiling fan turn in the middle of a heat wave while it storms outside in July. 

The soft “swoosh” the panels make can be mistaken for the subtle breeze outside as the rain taps on the windows relentlessly. The sound is extremely reminiscent of the knock of an annoying younger sibling wanting access to your room; the softness due to their developing muscles and the persistence because they tend to have one-track minds. 

Stained glass windows of the Southern Baptist Church hide the dreariness outside but if you had been attending there long enough (which most of its patrons had been; newcomers and visitors were far and few between) the overcast was extremely obvious. 

Webster, Texas was the hottest it had ever been and this fact proved evident to sixteen-year-old Jacob Michael Seresin who was sitting in a church pew with slacks that are way too big around his waist and a white button-down that is way too starchy for his liking. The shirt is translucent around his armpits and the small of his back; the wife beater underneath sticking to his skin like a shitty temporary tattoo. 

So much for thanking God for the rain and the cooler weather it supposedly brings. 

Jake liked to think that he believed in God, that he was a good enough Christian that if he died today he would find himself in the line that got him a seat in Heaven. But he knows that he falls short in comparison to the people who he goes to church with. 

He doesn’t read his Bible the way his mother and father had wanted him to. He cursed quite a lot whenever his parents weren’t around. He was an asshole to his sisters more often than not. He gets distracted when he prays before bed; oftentimes floating off into Dreamland before he can say “amen.” 

Worst of all, he thinks, is that he can’t stay focused on the sermon to save his life. 

His MeeMaw always used to tell him that his mind was fast; that he was always thinking so much and so quickly that it was almost impossible for everyone else around him to keep up. So when his thoughts start to drift off into what he’s going to eat for lunch or what path to run will serve him best as the quarterback on Friday night or even how he can avoid his obnoxious little sisters once he returns home, he lets it slide because, after all, he does have Meemaw’s blessing. 

Right? 

His grandfather, the Pastor of the small church that his family had been attending since before he was born, reads off a verse from the Book of Philemon and Jake studies the people around him. 

He sees Miss Mary Lou who is well in her eighties with her church hat on and her little paper fan that supplies a placebo of cool air. She used to sit with him and his sisters in the nursery when they were younger and spoil them rotten with butterscotches and those strange strawberry candies that stores never seemed to sell. 

She still lays on her blue eyeshadow thick and her red lipstick even thicker and although it may look cheap and tacky and so grandma-ish to anyone else looking at her, it warms Jake’s heart; good childhood memories brandished in the bow of vacation Bible school and “Jesus Loves Me” sang softly to him whenever he was cradled in her lap. He often pitched fits after his mother would leave him in the nursery (call him a Momma’s boy because it’s simply the truth) and that was the only thing that could calm him down.

He sees Bria Grace McLeod sitting all prim and proper with her perfect blue sundress on and her perfect white cardigan hiding her exposed shoulders. Her perfect blonde hair sits with clear butterfly clips holding up the front two pieces and she looks so angelic, but Jake knows it’s all a facade. Just the night before she was on her knees for him in the corn field that all the teenagers in Webster hung out in. 

He was leaning against his truck and she was going to work on his cock; sloppy and amateur as all get out but who was Jake to complain? Bria Grace was a bit of a biter and he was scared that if he commented on it she would bite him intentionally, so he stayed quiet, busted in her mouth, and drove her home. 

He sees the way her face softens at the mentions of “living like the world” and how the “world” is littered with sex and homosexuality and abortions. The sensitivity on her face shows Jake that she’s feeling remorseful. Shameful. Dirty, even, for what she had done with him last night. 

Jake wants to feel bad for her, wants to push her butter yellow hair back behind her ears and tell her that it’s alright, but he knows that it won’t change anything. He was a horny boy and Bria Grace was a horny girl. She’ll be in his backseat with her legs pushed up to her chest come Friday night. She only feels guilty in the moment, but it’ll cease to exist once church lets out and she gabs with her friends on the landline about who she blew last night.

Guilt.

It’s quite a humorous thing, Jake thinks as his eyes find his father, the assistant Pastor of Webster First Baptist, sitting on the stage behind his grandfather at the pulpit. His suit coat is unbuttoned and fat bullets of sweat stream down his face. 

Call it a sixth sense or a superpower or a gift (as MeeMaw liked to call it) but it never took Jake longer than a few seconds to drink someone in and see how they were feeling. And if he had a dollar for every time his dad sat on that church stage and looked guilty as fuck, he would have enough money to shove up the asses of those fuckers who had good ole Texas oil money and never seemed to shut up about it.

Jake always found himself equal parts confused and angry at how hypocritical his father could be. When his dad wasn’t ignoring him and his sisters, he was belittling Jake for coming home late and drinking beer in the cornfields with his friends; telling him how disobedience is a sin and how if he truly gave a fuck about going to the Naval Academy, he wouldn’t put that shit into his body. 

And Jake used to always repent and feel guilty. His old man was right, he used to think, until he realized that his dad was nothing more than a cheater who was routinely moaning the name of his eldest daughter’s nineteen-year-old roommate behind his children’s mother’s back. 

How drinking underage was a sin but adultery was fair game never seemed to sit right with Jake, but he chalks it all down to the fact that he’s no Aristotle or God or whatever the hell is more powerful than God. He just figures that if his dad were as much of a Godly man as he claimed to be, he would know that wrong is wrong no matter what. 

Jake Seresin doesn’t claim to be a righteous Christian, but fucking your daughter’s barely legal friend unbeknownst to your wife has got to get you extra hell points than underage drinking with your friends, he would assume. 

He doesn’t quite know for sure, though. 

God is funny like that sometimes. 

The choir director sitting beside Jake and his family catches his gaze and sends the boy a tight-lipped smile. Jake doesn’t return it; just sends daggers his way before moving his eyes elsewhere. He tended to do that a lot, nowadays. His eyes often swam in the ocean of his surroundings only to be met with nothing than dryer than dry Webster, Texas. At least with the pouring rain around him, he can pretend like the town he resides in isn’t a shitty mock-up of the movie Holes. 

Jake feels his mother pinch his side subtly. The almond shape of her maroon-colored fingernails paints a stark contrast to the shiny gold of his grandmother’s pearl ring perched on her pointer finger. He tries to ignore the wedding band that shines brightly even in the dreariness of the church. He doesn’t need reminders of his father’s infidelity. 

“Your daddy wouldn’t be happy that you’re noddin’ off during church, Jakey,” she whispers in a sweet tone. Her mouth barely opens and she remains looking straight ahead at his grandpa with her Bible in her lap and a tissue clutched in her other hand. 

Jake freezes; his breath catching in his throat and his mouth going numb like it does when he’s had one too many shots. If his mom told his dad that he wasn’t paying attention in church today, he would surely be in for an earful of hurtful words later. 

He likes to pretend that he’s big and bad and that words don’t hurt but he’s come to realize a long time ago that he internalizes everything; every utterance, every look, every vocal fry embedded in his book of ways to make himself less of a nuisance. It’s a survival guide to help him not look like an idiot, and even though he’s the coolest guy in school, can have any girl he wants, and isn’t too bad on the eyes (It’s cocky to think that, but from the way he hears his sisters’ friends giggling down the hall from his room, he knows it’s true), his father’s approval is the only thing he truly cares about. 

He can never put it into words; can never explain how he hates his dad so much but wants to please him so badly. 

Dads are supposed to care. Dads are supposed to love you unconditionally. Dads are supposed to have a hard time showing emotion and that they care, but somehow will always have your back. 

And despite that being what the norm is and wishing for it while blowing out his candles on his cake every birthday up until this past year, his dad always made him feel small. Inadequate. Hard to be around. Downright un-fucking-lovable. 

Reverend John Marshall Seresin is a hometown hero; the town’s golden boy before he went off to the Naval Academy like his father and his grandfather and generations upon generations of Seresin men before him. He was a carbon copy of his father, Marshall John, and Marshall was a carbon copy of his father, John Michael.

And with faces that told the story of a legacy crafted decades and decades before Jake was even thought of (he’s not even sure he can even begin to fathom how many years of difference are between his great great great grandfather and he) invited the pressure. 

All Seresins were Texas born and raised with Navy blood running rampant through their veins. Jake’s father (and grandfather, and great grandfather, and great great grandfather, and every other son of a bitch who shared the same last name as him) was the star quarterback of Webster High turned Naval Academy graduate turned Rear Admiral turned Southern Baptist Preacher. 

Jake’s just not so sure that “turned cheating low-life who steps out on his wife and four kids to play House with his daughter’s college roommate” is a life achievement that everyone in his family shared as well. 

The cheating was something that Jake found out by accident; sneaking in hours after his curfew and walking by his dad’s shed on the way to crawl into his bedroom window with shrieks and moans from a voice that was certainly not his mom’s. And he tried to ignore it; tried not to let the idea that his dad may or may not have cheated on his mom escape his mind but he kept finding himself in the same situation every Friday evening when he was sneaking back in from getting lucky in the cornfield with his hookup for the night. 

He pieced together that the mistress was his sister’s college roommate (Natalie, he thinks her name is) during Christmas break a few months ago; the hickies she had on her neck were concealed to the untrained eye but noticeable to someone looking for clues. Her voice matched the one he had heard screaming in the shed for weeks and her frame matched what would have fit into the baby blue bra he had found stuffed in his dad’s toolbox. 

The realization had made him physically ill. Fuck them for making him miss out on MeeMaw’s Christmas ham. 

The worst part wasn’t the fact that his dad was a cheater or that his mom was oblivious. The worst part for Jake was knowing that he was the only one who knew, and as much as he liked to hold things over people’s heads or revel in the fact that he knew a secret that no one else was even slightly aware of and the burden weighs heavy in his chest. 

How long does he let it fester? How would he even go about telling his mom? Would she even believe him? Would his father skin him alive if he knew that his son knew everything about his affair? If his parents divorced, where would that leave his sisters? Him, even? 

The questions filled his mind like a twelve-foot pool, yet every time he thinks he has an answer, he’s diving into the shallow end and screwing himself over. He guesses his theoretical spinal injury is significantly better than all the drama that would ensue from the word about his father’s extramarital affair. 

If he could just keep it buried long enough, he would be fine. 

That’s how Seresins stayed afloat. 

That’s how all of Webster stayed afloat if he’s being honest. You let bygones be bygones and hope to God no one knows. 

But you know that you’ll be talked about ruthlessly by those sweet, old Southern ladies during their Wednesday night Bible studies because they tend to gossip and scheme and come up with scenarios that aren’t too far off from the truth. 

And they’ll call their kids and tell them and then said kids who are on the PTA make it school-wide gossip and before you know it, you’re the talk of the town in every hairdresser, barber shop, grocery convenience store, and small prayer group within a fifteen-mile radius, but it’s not like anyone really cares. 

Except they do. 

And they’re judgmental. 

And even though the downfall of his family hasn’t happened yet and if it did, it would be no one’s fault but his father’s, Jake doesn’t know if he could handle the aftermath. 

He knows he’s not ready to tuck his mom into bed after she cried so hard she blacked out. He knows he’s not ready to put every guy his little sisters bring home under the microscope with the prayer that they’ll be nothing like their shitty, cheating dad. He certainly isn’t ready for the freezer full of casseroles and the hushed whispers paired with the “bless their hearts” as he and his family walk by a group of women in the grocery store.  

The saying is sweet to an outsider, but it says all that Jake needs to know. 

“Well, aren’t they shit out of luck?” And he figures that at that point, he wouldn’t be able to do anything but agree. How lucky would he be to have to pick up the pieces of his parents’ messy divorce? How lucky would he be to have to scoop his sisters off the floor after being thrown away so carelessly by their sweet daddy who used to do anything for them? 

How lucky is he now to know something that no one but God knows, and feel like he has an atomic bomb strapped to his chest? 

Jake thinks the only lottery he’ll ever have the pleasure of winning is the shitty hand of cards he’s been dealt by being born a Seresin. 

Honor, courage, and commitment; “Go Navy” his ass. 

He feels his mother pinch the side of his thigh and a small puff of air signifying her annoyance in his ear. He can see her lips stretch into a thin line at the sight of her son ignoring her earlier request. 

Jake’s for sure in some deep shit with his father later. There’s no way his mom is going to let this slide. He can already envision his father’s glare from the rearview mirror on the way home from church; his dad’s ears bright pink from both the humidity outside and the pure rage that Jake seems to strike in him. 

His dad wouldn’t start yelling at him until he turned down the dirt road near Prickett Street where there were only longhorns, wheat, and longhorn shit for miles. Just miles upon miles of nothing; not even golden rod-colored paint marking the road for two lanes of traffic. 

John Marshall never liked for people to see him in any way that could be construed as negative. His dark side was a secret that was meant to be kept within the confines of their home (and his Chevy Tahoe, apparently). Jake’s scoldings often occurred on the drive home or in the sanctuary of his dad’s tool shed outside; outbursts of anger followed by apathy. 

His dad would damn near shun him after he finished giving him a stern talking to. The lack of attention, the lack of feeling like his dad even gives a shit that he has a son that wants to be loved and accepted by him; still makes Jake’s eyes water despite losing the ability to cry over his dad’s treatment years ago. 

There’s just something about a black hole of a heart that comes to mind when he cries; especially the skin-melting pain that was felt to rip a hole in the fabric of the universe (which in this case, is Jake Seresin’s heart). 

The lump in his throat makes him feel small again even though he stands six feet even and is the same height as his dad. It transports him back to the more than unfavorable moments in his life and his world is blacked out by flashbacks of his father’s disappointment. 

He’s six and being given the silent treatment after his first flag football game for not running the ball to the end zone. He’s ten and his dad lays into him about striking out during his travel baseball game despite hitting two home runs in the last three innings. 

He’s twelve and being told that he’s stupid; that he won’t amount to anything if he tried, and that he “Should’ve been a girl if you were gonna be this goddamn useless!”

Now he’s sixteen, sitting on the fear of being berated on the ride home later and trying to keep it all together. 

“And all of God’s people said.” 

“Amen!” 

The rush of people getting up to go to the back of the church can be heard and despite his entire family getting up, Jake remains frozen in place. He can’t move. He can’t breathe. His mind is moving faster than his body. 

MeeMaw waltzes past him. She puts her bony hand on his shoulder and squeezes it. 

“It’s okay to not want to get your hair wet, baby. Know you Seresin men spend so much time on it,” she teases, smile grazing her sunken in features and church hat perfectly placed on her head. 

Jake offers her a small chuckle, the apples of his cheeks rising and falling. “Is this the nice way of calling me conceited?” he asks, voice small but a teasing edge to it. 

MeeMaw laughs before pressing a kiss to his cheek. Her magenta lipstick is sure to leave a print on his face until he can use some of his sister’s makeup remover later. 

“No, it’s the Southern way of sayin’ it. Now, come help your MeeMaw to the car before I say something unkind to MaryLou about her eyeshadow.” 

Jake takes his grandma’s arm and catches his father’s gaze in passing before quickly averting his eyes elsewhere. His confidence dwindles significantly when he’s aware of his father’s presence. 

The fifteen-minute drive from the church to his home is always uneventful unless he was getting screamed, at which he’s sure is happening at some point.

He takes his seat between his two little sisters. If Anna Caroline was here, she would bully the youngest two to squeeze in the middle so she and Jake could have the two window seats. Being the oldest and the oldest sister seemed to always get you what you want. 

But with AC moving to college this past year and leaving him alone with two girls who could barely even be considered teenagers, Jake is outnumbered. Arguing with his little sisters is another losing battle he has to face regularly, and Jake thinks his time is better spent keeping his mouth shut rather than getting into screaming matches with people who had to look up at him to make eye contact. 

Sitting in the middle seat was torture though because Jake had a front row seat to his father’s eyes through the rearview mirror. Jake’s father is equally as introspective and knit-picky as his son. Jake’s entire personality is built around walking on eggshells around his dad. 

He wonders if in another life he would be less of an ass but quickly dismisses the thought. It’s hard to believe that his father can be nice to him written anywhere in his psyche; even a make-believe one. 

His mother sits with a scowl on her face. She’s made it clear that she’s upset with his father because he forgot to shut their bedroom window this morning like she had asked. There’s no way that with the storm being as harsh as it is that the carpet near the window is anything synonymous to dry. She also is pretty annoyed at Jake for not listening earlier and nodding off during the sermon. 

His mother usually handled him with grace. She knows her husband can be a lot and Jake is a momma’s boy to the max. But she does keep him in check and she’s not afraid to let his father deal with him if she has to. 

What she doesn’t know is how awful his father truly treats him. 

Jake will never say anything and his father sure as hell would never tell on himself. How he’s treated is their dirty little secret. 

“Your son wasn’t paying attention to the message today,” his mother speaks and Jake’s shoulders tighten at the sound of her voice. 

His dad has his right hand on the steering wheel and his left fiddling with the toothpick sticking out of the side of his teeth. “Hmm,” is all he says. His mom runs her fingers through her bleach blonde hair and she sighs. 

Her annoyance is obvious and he knows that she’ll go to their room and take a nap before they’re due back at the church for the evening service. “Are you even listening to me?” she whispers, turning her body to be closer to the passenger side door. 

His father shifts his stance, his right hand abandoning the wheel and resting on his mother’s thigh. “When have I ever ignored you, honey?” 

Jake has to stop himself from rolling his eyes. He has to withhold a gag when his dad brings his mom’s knuckles up to his hand and kisses them. The only reason why the younger Seresin’s eyeballs aren’t looking at the tops of his occipital bones right now is the fact that his dad could see him. He doesn’t want to take the chance of his dad coming unglued on him.

All he can think about is how those lips were on another person; another woman (if a nineteen-year-old could even be considered that, of course) feeling the same facial feature in places way less holy and pure as his mom’s hands. 

He can hear the grunts and can see the subtle shaking of the tool shed in the backyard; the light beaming a soft yellow from some of the small holes in the wood and the indigo sky swallowing it like an abyss. 

Jake’s had his fair share of shitty feelings and, of course, evoking those shitty feelings onto other people but he knows for a fact that he could never live like this; the sneaking around and the lying. The crazed caution and the heavyweight in his chest of knowing that what he’s doing is wrong. Jake knows he’s a sinner, but he could never be a sinner like his father. And if he ever finds it within his poor, damaged, and disgusting soul to cheat on his wife one day? 

He’ll knock on hell’s door his damn self. 

Jake clenches his fists at his sides and grinds his teeth. He figures the best way to keep from violently outbursting and confessing his father’s sins for him is to tune out his surroundings. 

He focuses on the environment around him; how the pleather of the car seat feels against his church slacks, how his little sister’s elbow pokes into his ribs despite having all the room in the world near the window seat she so ruthlessly stripped him of. He focuses on the sound of small gravel stones being kicked up from the wheels of the car and flung to the side of the road. 

He thinks back to a time when this wasn’t his life; where he wasn’t the crypt keeper of secrets and things were fine and dandy and he didn’t have to worry about slouching or winning the football game or studying his ass off for his ASVAB and ACT so he could get into the Academy. He thinks back to when he was a kid and the harsh reality of life was banned from infiltrating his perfect bubble filled with Arthur reruns and lukewarm apple juice. 

Sunday afternoons were his favorite when he was little. His siblings would scatter around their house finding things to do and doing as they pleased. His parents would always take a nap; his mom on top of the duvet in their bedroom and curled up with a throw blanket and their dad passed out in the recliner, their family dog Chaps sitting at his feet and soft snores coming from both of them. 

He and AC would terrorize their little sisters; chasing them around outside with bugs and frogs in their hands. Sometimes when he wasn’t feeling like being a God-awful older brother he would bring out his baseball and play catch with them. He even taught them how to play Chess and Go-Fish. On the rare occasion when they begged hard enough, he would find himself in a ridiculous church hat of his MeeMaw’s that she “donated” to her granddaughters to play dress-up in, pinkie up and sipping imaginary tea on a small, pastel pink stool. 

Now Sunday afternoons give him the shakes. He knows that he has about fifteen minutes to hop in his truck and leave the house before his father came to find him and work his nerves. His brain doesn’t even process that his dad has pulled into the driveway of their home until his little sister, Maggie, closes the car door a little too hard. 

“God, almighty,” his mother sighs, shaking her head at her daughter’s roughness. 

The family treks inside and goes their separate ways. The creaky floorboards signify the movement in different spots in the house and Jake bolts to his room; taking off his church clothes at lightning speed and throwing on a sweatshirt and some shorts. He damn near breaks his neck running to the shoe rack by the front door with his keys in his hand before he feels the hairs on the back of his neck stand up. 

Most people get that goose-pimpled feeling whenever they’re nervous or chilled beyond belief. Jake seemed to always get that feeling around his father; when it was just Jake, him, and God with no bystanders. 

The unthinkable always had a propensity to happen in settings like these. 

“Need you to come out back to the shed with me, son.”

Jake pushes his foot into his Nike. He feels frozen. 

“You not gonna say anything?” his father chides, loosening his tie and crumpling the object in his hand. Jake’s father meant business and he’s extremely curious to know what his deal is with him now. 

“Yes, sir,” Jake manages to speak and he hears the light tap of his father’s church shoes getting smaller and smaller as the distance between them widens. 

Jake pushes himself off of the floor, heart heavy with nerves and stomach tied in knots tighter than any Cub Scout leader could bear to manage. His feet feel like they’ve been forced into slabs of concrete as he grabs his rain jacket and heads to the Pandora's Box of secrets; his dad’s tool shed. 

His father is already in the back, the lightbulb sticking out of the ceiling lit and casting a golden hue across the small building. Jake can’t hear himself think. Moments like these, ones where it’s just him and his dad, send him into flight mode. 

His father stands with a tarnished yellow cloth in his hand; wiping down some part that was supposed to be put in MeeMaw’s car later this week. 

“Shut the door,” his father says, not once acknowledging Jake in the mere thirty seconds he had been standing in front of him. 

Jake nods and grips the handle of the shed with shaky hands. His mind is screaming at him to run and scolding him for not telling his mother he was going out back with his dad. He had noticed whenever he made a point to let his mother know where he was when he was to be alone with his dad that his father wasn’t nearly as harsh as he usually was. 

The silence is ominous; harrowing in the worst way possible. Jake almost has the nerve to speak up and ask what the hell his dad needed him here for, but alas, his mouth is dryer than dry and his words get caught in his throat. 

This can’t be good. This can’t be good. This cannot be good at all.

The frenzy of thoughts his mind sends him into is cut short by the slam of metal on the janky table that homes all of his father’s tools and “Honey, do” projects. 

“You wanna tell me why David McLeod is runnin’ round my fuckin’ church? Knockin’ on my goddamn door sayin’ that he caught my son bending his sweet daughter over in their front yard two nights ago?” his father’s voice booms. 

And there it is. 

Jake bites his lip to keep from laughing. His dad has quite the nerve when two nights ago, he caught him screwing AC’s roommate’s brains out. Who the hell is he to be screaming at him for enjoying himself? 

Jake shakes his head and continues to bite his lip; his eyebrows pent upwards to withhold the smart allecky comment he has brewing in his mouth. 

“You not gonna say anything, kid?” his father throws down the rag and stomps closer to his son, “I’m fucking talking to you!” 

Jake swallows before he lets his comment loose. He knows he shouldn’t; knows that disobeying your parents and talking back is a violation of the Ten Commandments or whatever (Baptist Christians are batshit crazy, he’s determined a long time ago). He knows he shouldn’t, but he does. 

“Just think it’s funny you keep saying your church when it’s Papaw’s.” 

John Marshall Seresin, does in fact, hate that answer. 

“Listen here and listen fucking good, kid,” his father spits, grabbing the shirt of his collar and pushing him up against the door. “You better not go ‘round here fucking that girl and lettin’ her daddy catch ya. They’re a bunch of low lives anyway.” 

The way his father is so easily ready to demean someone else; to talk down on them as if they amount to nothing yet be a smiling plastic figure in their faces come Sunday morning strikes a match in the flame that resides in Jake’s stomach. 

Jake shakes his head, a sarcastic laugh sitting on his lips and falling off his lips faster than he can register. 

“What’s so fuckin’ funny, Jakey?” his father sneers. 

And Jake knows that he should stop. He knows that speaking his mind isn’t the brightest idea he’s had. But Jake chalks it all down to the fact that he’s smart. Wise is something that he never claimed to be. 

“It’s just hilarious that you’re calling them low lives for what?” he pushes his father off of him before backing his old man into a corner, “Because they’re poor? Because they’re not “Navy” bred? David is a piece of work, but at least he’s not fucking his daughter’s friend.” 

John Marshall’s eyes widen the size of a full moon at his son’s admission of knowledge. He knew that someone had noticed and he had figured it was a matter of time until one of his children (preferably any of his children that weren’t Jake) would find out. 

“You don’t know jack shit, young man,” his father demands, face as bright red as the tomatoes in his mother’s garden. 

Jake is beyond terrified. He knows that he’s in for some deep shit and that his father’s words will cut deep. Despite his brain screaming at him to diffuse the situation, to walk with his tail between his legs and carry on as if nothing happened, he ignores it. 

Above all else, he’s angry. He’s angry that he lets his father talk to him the way that he does. He’s angry that his father gets a free pass to act however he wants with no one there to check him. He’s angry that his father will inevitably tear the family apart that Jake’s spent the better half of fifteen years attempting to keep together. 

So he doesn’t bite his tongue this time around. He doesn’t shy away from being the true smart-ass everyone in Webster knew him as. He rolls his shoulders back and clenches his fists at his sides. 

“What I do know is that this is awful and mom doesn’t deserve that,” he calmly speaks. He braces himself for his father’s touch bulldozing him through the wall or a punch to the gut. Jake’s dad very rarely put his hands on his son, but on the handful of occasions that he had, Jake always walked away with some kind of bruise that his mother would pester him about until it healed. 

The push or smack or punch doesn’t come and Jake almost relaxes before he jumps out of his skin at the sound of his father’s hands slamming on the metal table. 

“You’re just fucking stupid, aren’t ya?” His dad shakes his head and laughs, a deep chuckle coming from his belly as if Jake had just told him the funniest goddamn joke in the entire world. 

“Stupid enough to nod off during church. Stupid enough to fuck that no-good tramp. Wonder if you’re stupid enough to ruin your mama’s life, son,” he gripes. “If I go down, so does this whole family.” 

And Jake thinks that his father is wrong about a lot of things, but he has to give him credit where it’s due. The revelation would tear his family to absolute shreds. MeeMaw and Papaw would be judged for raising such an awful son. His mother would be laughed at behind her back with the embarrassment hanging over her like a raincloud. “How could she not have known?” being thrown around every hairdresser and nail salon in the area. AC would lose her mind, he’s sure. He can’t even be somewhat delusional with himself and think that she wouldn’t do anything slight of going fucking bananas. 

“But it’s your move, Ace. If I were you, I’d keep quiet. Especially if you want a shot of getting out of this hellhole like you told Bria Grace.”  His dad fixes the tools haphazardly on the table; trying to make it look as uniform as possible; as perfect as possible. Just like his family on the outside. 

His father walks to the door before stopping and turning to his son whose blond hair looks white in comparison to how pink his face is. “That bitch ain’t as good of a secret keeper as you thought she was. How the hell do you think David found out?” 

The door slams before Jake can even react and for the millionth time in his life, Jake feels small. All he can manage to do is hold his cries in until he starts to hiccup and the flow of his tears streaming down his face match the rainfall gracing dryer than dry Webster, Texas. 

So much for thanking God for the rain and the blessings it was supposed to bring. 

ii. 

Today is Jacob Seresin’s eighteenth birthday. 

Although he thoroughly believed that birthday wishes were a scam and that people treating you slightly better on your “special day” was bullshit, some part of him still enjoyed the fact that it was his birthday every year. 

He can’t decide if it’s the overwhelming amount of love his mom and sisters gift him on the morning of his birthday or if it’s because he’s one year closer to distancing himself from his father’s wrath. 

And as Jake’s alarm clock sounds and he’s formally shaken awake by his mom and sisters busting open his door, his heart aches for moments like these that he’ll miss once he moves out of the house. 

There’s just something about waking up on the morning of your birthday at home and having happy birthday sang to you before you can even blink the sleep out of your eyes. The small moments like these make his life not so much of a living hell and he can almost gaslight himself into not wanting to go so far away; to defer his acceptance into the Naval Academy and to stay at home for another year. 

His mom would always make her infamous banana walnut pancakes and pair it with an awful rendition of “Happy Birthday.” She would joke that God didn’t bless her with good vocal cords but did bless her with good cooking. And with one bite of her pancakes, Jake decides why he loves his birthday. 

Simply just because of his mom’s banana pancakes. 

He loved the cards his sisters would hand make him every year too. They would corral his bed and wait with their eyes wide open as if they hadn’t been born with eyelids to see how he reacted to their cards. AC’s always having some cartoonish drawing of him that was slightly offensive and Maggie and Rosie are always having words misspelled in a stew of comically large vowels and consonants. 

He can never figure out if they actually enjoy making him cards or if it’s some sick, twisted, girlish game that they play to determine which card he likes the most that year. 

Jake almost is a good brother and plays into it, before he decides that his job as a brother is to be annoying, and dutifully says that he loves them all equally even though they all know (him included) that he’s lying straight through his teeth. 

If he had to pick, he would always pick AC (though he does admit, Rosie has been giving her a run for her money as of late). 

And because of these festivities and because of the unconditional love his mom and sisters give him, he almost would be content staying in Webster for the rest of his life. 

He dreams of having a big house with a big dog and a big yard and a wrap-around porch down the street from his parents’ house. He dreams of Saturday night football being watched with his pretty wife and his precious babies and then those precious babies growing up and making him a grandpa and he and his wife growing old. 

The fantasy he creates in his head is almost perfect and he almost considers it until he waltzes into his kitchen to find his dad reading the paper in his pajamas with a solemn silence surrounding him like a plague. 

And it’s then that Jake realizes why he longed for this day since he was eleven and why the only college he applied to out of state was the Academy. 

He tries to tiptoe around his dad like an utter dumbass and he knows that he isn’t tiny or quiet in the slightest and when his plate and fork clatter in the sink louder than he anticipated, he’s met with the quick rustle of newspaper and the sunken in green eyes of his father peering back into his identical ones. 

His dad clears his throat before taking a sip of his coffee. Jake wonders if his dad is stalling if he was planning on avoiding his son just as he was planning on avoiding his dad today. 

“Anna Caroline is coming in tonight for your birthday dinner,” his father speaks barely above a whisper. 

Jake nods before turning on his heel to head back upstairs to get ready for school. “Noted, sir. Thank you.” 

His father offers a straight-lipped smile before turning his attention back to the paper. The creaks that shadow Jake’s movement toward the stairs seem louder than any fighter jet or rock concert even though they could barely be heard between Maggie and Rosie’s arguing and Chaps’s barking. 

“Happy eighteenth, Ace,” his father manages to say before dumping the rest of his coffee in the sink and resorting back to the master bedroom to get ready for the day. 

Jake just nods and feels an eerie sense of calm run up his arms. He just had a feeling; something in his gut telling him that something wasn’t right, that something really, really bad was set to happen but he boils it down to the Calculus test he had later today during fourth period. 

Only girls got gut feelings, he remembered AC saying to him once. So he shrugs and heads up to his room before hopping in his truck to make the ten-minute drive up the road to stroll into Webster High School.

Jake can’t shake that eerie feeling all day. It makes it hard to eat, to think, even to write. His hand shook horribly whenever he went to write the sign for a derivative during his math test and he erased the goddamn thing at least five times until he was sure one more fuck up would leave a hole in his paper.  

He ends up leaving the question blank. He has a ninety-seven percent in the class and already got into all the colleges he applied to anyway. It’s not like a measly three points is going to be the end of the world for him. 

Jake still feels the knots in his stomach as he hops into his truck to drive home after football practice and no matter what he does, he can’t exactly put his finger on what would make him feel like this. He almost has half the mind to whip out his cell phone and call AC to talk about it, but he knows that she’ll go into older sister mode once she hears any slight indication that he’s in the car and will go off about texting and driving and how immature her brother is even being eighteen years old today. 

He can practically see her caramel brown hair pulled up in a ponytail and a summer dress on her body while she shouts at him through the phone about any and every grievance she has ever had with him because once Anna Caroline gets started, she never stops. People who think that Jake is a firecracker have never been in the same room as AC because she was a goddamn nuclear bomb compared to him. 

He grins when he sees her white Jeep Cherokee in the gravel of their driveway with a sorority sticker embellishing the back window. 

Jake damn near sprints into the house to hug his older sister before he stops cold in his tracks and sees her. 

Anna Caroline brought her roommate home to celebrate Jake’s eighteenth birthday with his family, and it’s then when he determines that life could not fuck him forwards, backward, upside down, and right side up more than it currently is with his dad subtly trying to eye her tits and Jake trying to bite his tongue. 

The freckled, teeny, tiny strawberry blonde who was the owner of the light blue B cup bra Jake had found in his dad’s toolbox and probably the owner of a magenta thong he had found tucked in the driver’s pocket of his dad’s car a few weeks ago. 

And as she waves to Jake and gives him a slight hug and an even slighter, “Happy birthday,” attached to it, Jake decides that the girl is pretty. She’s certainly not a stranger as she’s been to the Seresin home a multitude of times since rooming with Anna Caroline freshman year of college. She’s sweet, friendly, and a tried and true friend of his sister’s. In another world, Jake thinks she would be his type, but only if that other world is one where she’s not fucking his married fifty-five-year-old father behind his eldest sister’s back. 

“Jakey!” Anna Caroline hollers, running towards her younger brother and wrapping her arms around his neck like a boa constrictor. Jake swears she does this shit on purpose; playing “nice” but torturing him so secretly that he could never say anything without being called a drama queen. 

He chuckles before forcibly unclasping her hands from cutting off his breathing. “Don’t choke me out. I’ll punch you in your throat if you do.”  

His mother gasps and hits his shoulder with a dishtowel. “Jacob Michael! That is no way to talk to a woman.” 

Jake and AC share a conniving grin before his dad clears his throat and starts his journey toward the dinner table. The soft squeak of the wooden oak chair sliding across the floor signifies that his father was ready to eat, which means everyone should be ready to eat. 

The awkward silence fills the gap of what should be a happy birthday; a day spent celebrating Jake and his last year at home and stories of his growing up to this point in his life. But it’s far from being about Jake at all, he realizes, as he catches his father’s gaze; his sea glass eyes throwing the stone in to the river of possibilities that Jake very much could blow the roof off of his house of secrets.

After his father blesses the food, a regal quietness plagues the table; the sounds of forks and knives on his mom’s good Chinaware mixed in with the quiet giggles of Rosie and Maggie and the eyes of Natalie who looks like she’s about to throw up at any second. 

And Jake wants to turn his brain off, wants to rid himself of that stupid skill he has of reading people like a goddamn People magazine headline, but he can’t. 

All it takes is one look and Jake sees in her what he sees in his dad every Sunday sitting behind his grandfather on the stage. 

Guilt. 

And if this was on one of those shitty sitcoms his sisters liked to watch on Wednesday nights after church and in between homework time and bedtime, he would almost laugh and plead with someone to change the channel. 

But it isn’t an episode of Gilmore Girls or One Tree Hill, and he can’t even fool himself to pretend like it is. The ten-pound heap of bricks of his father’s infidelity sits on his chest and ruins the ability for him to even imagine that completely. 

Jake is lost in his train of thought as he mindlessly chews on his steak before his arm is haphazardly knocked off the table by AC. His fork clatters on the ground and she sends him a shit-eating grin; one that older sisters only have the capability of sending with just the right amount of childishness but also holding an heir of authority. She holds in her giggle before answering their mother about her boyfriend she has back at A&M and Jake is sent shaking his head before lowering himself beneath the table cloth to retrieve his utensil. 

Although being tall was something that most certainly worked in his favor more often than not, Jake wishes his height didn’t make small things like this so difficult. He holds in a grunt as he gets down on the floor beneath the tablecloth and stretches as far as he can go to retrieve the fork that falls in between the chairs of his father and Natalie. 

His eyes catch the slight glimmer of his dad’s wedding ring and he can see his father’s hand rubbing Natalie’s bare knee. He sees his dad’s hand slide farther and farther up Natalie’s leg and Jake feels his face getting hot; the weight of the secret he had been keeping for two years now choking him. 

His head catches on the table with a loud thud and the dishes and silverware clank as a result. His mother gasps and his sisters laugh as he rubs his temple harshly, his fork gripped in his palm like a vice.

“Came out screamin’ and you’re still making a ruckus. What am I gonna do without you here next year?” his mom comments, her manicured fingers coming across the table to pinch his cheeks like how she used to when he was little. 

“Jump for joy and pray he never comes back,” Anna Caroline remarks, purposefully biting her fork and letting the metal scrape her teeth. She knows the sound grinds Jake’s gears like no other.

“You know, there was a time when you weren’t a bitch,” he says quietly, hoping that his mother and father don’t hear the curse word slip from his lips. As far as they’re concerned, he’s never smoked, drank, cursed, or had sex before in his life. 

His father straightens in his seat, his hand still hidden underneath the blue gingham table cloth covering the dinner table. He shoots his son a knowing look; one that has “Watch your mouth” written all over it. 

He cowers in his seat and tries to cover his uneasiness with a cough.

The table falls silent once again before his father decides to perk up and start a conversation. 

But the problem with that is that no conversation is ever truly a conversation with John Marshall. Every speaking point somehow turned into a lecture or a gloat or some kind of pointed remark that made you feel small inside, and Jake’s not sure how he got through the Naval Academy with an attitude like that or how he was so well-liked, but for some reason, he always made it work. 

“You ready for this week’s game, Ace?” he asks and Jake’s face pales because he knows that he’s soon to be met with confrontation. 

The pause before his answer is pregnant and as he opens his mouth to say something, his dad beats him to fill the air with his voice. 

“You and this delayed speech. Would think I was raisin’ a Helen Keller the way you go about ignoring adults.” 

Jake was told that he was a very calm and mellow baby and despite his asshole-ish nature that’s developed alongside his God complex the older he’s gotten, it still remains somewhat true. And he knows that what his father said wasn’t even the worst of things that have ever been said to him and he knows that he has no right to blow the lid off Webster, Texas’s new cover story (especially at his eighteenth birthday dinner over steak and potatoes), but something in Jake snaps. 

He thinks about not saying what he’s about to say; about not breaking the dam of tears that will flood his house, but he ignores the caution sign anyway and forces the comment out of his throat instead. 

“Yeah, well, at least you ain’t raisin’ a cheater.” 

He can see AC raise her brows at him in a “what the fuck” manner. His dad chokes on his water before clearing his throat. He sends his son an aggravated look before sighing and rubbing his temples with his hands. Natalie looks pale completely; her hazel eyes wide with guilt and fear as if she had seen God himself in front of her and turning her away from Heaven. 

His mother purses her lips before clutching her napkin in her hands. “What do you mean by that, Jakey?” 

And Jake really should stop. He knows that this is unfair. He knows that he’s being unreasonable. He knows that this will be the end, but he can’t bring himself to give any less of a fuck than he does right at this second. 

“Oh, you know. Just think it’s nice to know that you and your husband aren’t raising a guy who cheats on his wife and fucks his daughter’s roommate every Friday night, is all.” 

The silence around them crafts a bubble of disbelief. 

No one dares to say anything. No one dares to move. No one attempts to look anyone else in the eye. 

The world has officially stopped turning. 

The tears in his mother’s eyes freeze and create an ocean in her sockets. She sniffles before sliding her chair back and escaping quietly to the back bedroom. The door slams shut and click with a lock before Jake is really aware of what he had done. 

Natalie runs to the nearest bathroom, the sound of her retching into the toilet echoing through the house like a tornado siren. 

His dad kicks the kitchen table and he and his siblings jump at his action. His face is bright red and the veins encasing his temples bulge out like a warning. 

“Good job, Ace,” he says, patting his son's shoulder with the force of an anchor before grabbing his keys and speeding off from their driveway to God knows where.

His youngest sisters sit at the table shocked; not quite old enough to understand what Jake was implying with his words but knowing that whatever just occurred in front of them at their dining table was bad. AC shakes as she gets up to usher them to their room. 

One look at her pink ears and the hairs at the base of her neck sticking to her skin with angry perspiration makes Jake wish he could take it back; that he could hold the secret in for a few more years until it eventually came out. But what’s done is done, and he can’t even really believe the avalanche of what he had done with just a compound statement. 

He sits at the table in disbelief for what feels like hours before Anna Caroline rounds about the corner and places her hands on the chair furthest away from him. Her head is bowed as she sniffles, gray mascara tears running down her face and stopping at her chin. 

“Do you have any fucking clue what you just did?” she asks weakly, her voice nasally with sadness and betrayal. 

Jake shakes his head slightly. He’s never been good at being guilty. “It just came out.” 

Anna Caroline whips her head up, her face back to bright pink and her eyes narrowed as sharp as daggers. 

“It just came out? It just came out my ass! You fucking knew for two whole years,” she screams, stepping closer to him to where Jake can feel the blistering heat radiate off of her body, “Two whole fucking years and you didn’t think to tell me about it?” 

Now is Jake’s turn to be pissed off. “You weren’t fucking here! You went off to college and got to pretend like you only had a family when you weren’t too hungover to drive home!” His chest heaves up and down and he has to take deep breaths through his nose.  

Anna Caroline gets in his face; her anger is reminiscent of their father’s when he was really pissed off. “I know for a goddamn fact that you’re not calling me selfish when this whole fucking episode of yours just imploded our family from the inside out,” she spits, her forehead damn near touching Jake’s, “All you ever seem to fucking do is think about yourself, Jacob.” 

Jake pushes himself backward in his chair to create some space between himself and his sister. “Think about my- Anna Caroline, you were the first person I fucking thought of!” 

She scoffs and rolls her eyes, her nostrils flaring slightly to allow more air into her lungs before she explodes. “Obviously, you didn’t think enough because while you’re away at the Academy this summer, I’m gonna be sitting here in this hellhole with a fucking civil engineering degree playing Mommy Homemaker until our parents’ divorce is finalized.” 

Jake opens his mouth to shoot back a charged comment, but he closes it. He’s done enough damage tonight. 

“You were “thinking” about me, yeah. You were thinking about how somehow you were gonna make this my problem while you get to do fuck-all in Annapolis,” she accuses. 

“Why are you-” 

“And did you think about how unfair that was to mom? To Natalie? To our fucking little sisters?” she puts her hands on her hips as she paces back and forth near their kitchen table, “No and you know why? Because Jacob Seresin can’t stand having dirt on someone and not humiliating them for the sake of his own entertainment.” 

“AC it’s not even-” he starts, but his sister’s nuclear bomb-like anger beat him to it. 

The guilt-ridden expression Jake wears on his face makes Anna Caroline even angrier, as she moves toward him to push him back in his chair. 

“Just,” she shoves her finger in his chest, “Like. Dad.” And her palm lands flat on his chest before forcibly pushing him back farther in the oak seat than he had sat before. 

The wind is knocked out of his ribcage before he can even process what’s going on. She stomps her way up the staircase before pausing halfway and leaning down to scream at him once more. 

“You’re fucking dead to this family, Jacob,” she seethes, “And you’re fucking dead to me.” With that, she turns on her heel and like their mother hours before, slams the door of her childhood bedroom shut. 

Today is Jacob Michael Seresin’s eighteenth birthday, and is also the day he tore his family apart. 

iii. 

Jake Seresin always dreamed of being a dad, but he had never anticipated that he would become a father as instantaneously as he is right now. 

Jake is thirty-two years old and is a man who has had sex. A lot of sex, may he add, and being deployed and single as one of the world’s greatest naval aviators was a dangerous setup for him to limit the number of hook-ups he currently had tallied. 

There were some pretty great ones that he can recall and even though he was raised by great Southern women and with sisters, he can’t help but fall into the misogynistic trap that is the military every now and again, and he’ll find himself getting into the nitty gritty of who he last fucked with his friends after a couple of straight whiskeys at whichever bar was accessible to them at the time. 

And Jake’s not disgusting with it; never says anything demeaning but he’s sure that if the girl he had hooked up with heard how he was describing her flexibility or how she was able to give him some of the best head of his life, he knows her face would be flushed bright red. 

Although getting married and having kids is a dream of Jake’s, he thought that for his age and for his status, it was a pipe dream. 

That is until one fateful morning a full week and a half before he’s due to report back to Lemoore from sunny San Diego he hears a knock on his door. 

Jake gets up off the floor from doing his morning ab workout before he checks the clock on his stove. 

“6:21 AM,” it reads. 

And although the neighborhood he was staying in was filled to the brim with families that had young children and older people (who had certainly been awake for at least two hours now), he can’t think of anyone he had encountered that would knock on his door at this hour. 

He peeps through the peephole to see if he can catch a glimpse of a girl scout or a teenager who happened to accidentally hit his car with their bicycle on the way to school or something, but he’s met with the absence of a person on his front porch. 

He figures it must be a package he had forgotten he ordered or a newspaper that was to be delivered to the people next door, but his eyes damn near pop out of his skull once he peels the door open. 

There’s a little pink car seat with a baby that couldn’t have been more than five months old; purple nubby binky plunged in between her lips and a pink onesie adorning her slim torso. 

This can’t be one of those things; one of those plots to those TV shows where a guy fucks around and gets a girl pregnant and she leaves a baby at his doorstep when he’s least expecting it. He rubs his eyes ferociously with his hands to see if his knuckles would make the kid go away, but as he blinks away the white spots in his vision, the baby is still there. 

She blinks up at him with sea glass eyes and a face that looks just like his. Her tan skin and the soft caramel curls tell Jake who the counterpart of his creation would had to have been and his mind instantly flips back to a girl he had been casually seeing at USC a year ago. 

Her name was Talia (he thinks) and she was a graduate student who could’ve put any US Olympic gymnast to shame by how goddamn bendy she was, but alas, Jake wasn’t looking for anything serious and the distance between Lemoore and LA proved itself to be too far to keep anything sustainable besides a few quickies every couple of weeks. 

And while Jake was always careful and more than cautious with girls he was hooking up with, he can remember taking the riskier side a couple times with this chick which is why he’s looking at a tanned and curly-haired reincarnate of himself sitting in a goddamn baby carrier wondering how the hell she got dropped off at this dumbass’s doorstep and not someone who was capable of actually taking care of a kid. 

Beside her is a manila envelope with a brief note from Talia explaining how she couldn’t take care of her anymore, a birth certificate, a social security card, and a shot record. 

Jake can’t pretend like he isn’t somewhat surprised that for a girl who isn’t a day over twenty-three, she had all of these things together and was able to track him down and leave before he even noticed. 

Jake picks up the car seat and drops it into the doorway of his home before doing what any sensible person would do. He whips out his phone, scrolls through the millions of contacts he has, and starts to dial the kid’s mother. 

He almost grins to himself because he’s a genius and is calm, cool, and collected. He rehearses his lines for what he’ll tell her; that he’s about to get stationed somewhere in Florida and that he can’t take care of a baby by himself. He even puts a mental note in the back of his mind to meet with a lawyer about child support and setting that up before the dial tone sounds and all thoughts he has of this possibly working out the way he wants it to ends. 

“The number you are calling is no longer in service. Good-bye.” 

Oh shit. 

And the panic starts to kick in. He starts to pace back and forth before doing something he would’ve never thought to do ever in a million years before a few days prior. 

He dials Bradley Bradshaw’s phone number. 

“Please pick up. Please pick up. Please pick up.” 

Bradley answers his phone with a slight grunt signifying that he was just now rolling out of bed. “What the hell is it?” he asks, and it’s no secret that despite being called Rooster, Bradley was anything but a morning person. 

“Bradshaw, I have an SOS. I repeat, I have a fucking SOS,” Jake says, a sense of urgency plaguing his tone. 

Jake can hear bedsheets rustling on the other end of the line. “Jesus, Hangman. What did you do? Do you need bond money or something?” 

Jake rolls his eyes. “I need to come over.” 

“Is that how you talk to your hook-ups? Cause if so, I’m still not seeing the appeal.” 

“Bradshaw, you know that I would take you up on any opportunity to brag about my bangin’ sex life, but right now, I really need your fucking help,” he sighs, fixing his gaze back to the baby sitting in the carrier, “Can I please come over?” 

Bradley lets out a pensive sigh before finally giving Jake the answer he wants. “Sure. I’ll see you in ten.” 

Before Jake can thank him repeatedly, Bradley hangs up. 

At the sound of the dial tone, Jake pulls up a YouTube video on his phone about how to buckle in a car seat and he’s about eighty percent sure he did it wrong and is one hundred percent sure that he has no fucking idea what he’s doing at all, but he’s sliding into the front seat of his truck and racing down the street and around the corner to Bradley Bradshaw’s childhood home. 

He slams the door shut and grabs the baby with lightning speed, his fists banging on the door and almost knocking Bradley dead in the nose as he opens it with an irritated grunt. 

“Why are you knocking like the goddamn poli-” Bradley pauses, hand still on the door and eyebrows raised in disbelief, “What the fuck is that?” 

Jake rolls his eyes before pushing past the sandy-haired pilot and plopping down on his living room couch, the baby carrier taking a seat next to him. 

“It’s a baby, Bradshaw,” he rolls his eyes, “God, I thought you were smarter than this.” 

Bradley scoffs before closing the door and leaning on the wall in front of his living room. “Well I thought you were smarter than having raw sex with all your random hook-ups, but clearly I’m seeing evidence that you’re not.” 

Jake shakes his head and rakes his hands through his hair. ‘That’s so not the poin- I’m screwed here, Bradshaw!” 

Bradley lets out a slight laugh that he didn’t know he was holding in. “I mean, yeah. But you came to the right place. I love babies.” 

He makes his way over to the blond sitting on his couch and touches the car seat holding the baby and before he can move his hands down to the black plastic securing her chest, Jake slaps his hands away. 

“My baby,” he says and Bradley rolls his eyes. 

“Yeah, but my house,” he retorts. 

“But my baby,” Jake reiterates and a purple binky is spit out and a loud wail fills the space of Rooster’s living room; her little voice so loud that it echoes. 

“Jesus, she’s definitely your kid,” Bradley jokes, “Loud as hell and doesn’t have any interest in shutting up just like her dad.” 

Jake takes her out of the carrier and cradles her to his chest, his finger holding the silicone pacifier to her lips before she takes it out of his grasp and continues sucking on it. 

Bradley watches in awe because in the past three days, he’s seen more character development in Hangman than he has in the past twelve years of knowing him. Bradley and Jake are snapped out of their own respective worlds at the sound of a knock on his door. 

“Who the hell did you invite over to my home?” he asks and Jake shrugs. 

“Well, I did text a few people about coming over here because I had news.” 

Bradley sighs before opening his front door to see the entire Dagger Squad before him and stepping aside to let them in without a greeting. 

“What the fuck!” they all yell in unison, and Jake doesn’t even look up because he’s too busy staring into the eyes of a little girl whom he had fallen in love with in only fifteen minutes. 

Jake Seresin was certainly not ready to be a dad when he woke up this morning, but he feels more than ready now. 

[eijishimas]

midnight snack.

18+ nsfw content, minors dni. all characters are aged up.

masterlist.

content warnings: oral sex (f!receiving), penetrative sex, unprotected sex (use protection irl pls!), quirk use (electro stimulation), a hint of overstim, & a sprinkle of degradation. f!reader.

notes: all i could think about while writing this was “and they were roommates! ohmygod they were roommates.” also thank u bria ( @rekiri ) & sun ( @kiridarling ) for keeping me sane while writing this, ily both <3

wc: 3.0k

You rarely got hungry in the middle of the night. You usually went to bed full of food cooked by yourself or ordered takeout by your roommate, Denki. Tonight was different, however. You had been working on a project, one that was taking up far too much of your time due to your incompetent group members causing you to pick up the slack. You had been stressed beyond belief lately because of them. Maybe a small stretch would help clear your mind, you reasoned to yourself internally. While you were at it, a midnight snack wouldn’t be too bad. It would help ease your nerves, even. You stood from your desk, stretching your arms above your head and cracking the joints of your shoulders. Now exiting your room, you threw a glance across the hallway to see the light under your roommate’s door was still on. Of course he was staying up again, when did he not? Probably off playing video games with the guys again.

You yawned, bare feet pattering against the hardwood of your apartment floor on your way to the kitchen. You shivered, wearing only a cropped sweater you had thrifted and a pair of your comfiest shorts. So what if they were a little short on you, they did the job of keeping you comfy while you slept. No one besides Denki saw you in them, mostly because you wore them to bed. Opening the fridge door, you cringed at the harsh lighting hitting you square in the face. You bent over, eyes scanning the bottom shelf for something to pique your interest. Since you figured Denki was in his room, you didn’t bother to bend your knees while you were searching for your snack.

“Uh- I uh, whatcha lookin’ for?” Denki’s voice cracked slightly. What were the odds? Your head whipped up so fast from the fridge, you nearly knocked into the door of it. Your face began to overheat as you saw your roommate standing there in his pyjamas, fighting off his own blush as he looked at you. Had he seen how your shorts rode up your ass, giving the perfect view of the lace black panties you had been wearing that night? Maybe. The answer was most definitely a yes, but he wasn’t going to admit that to you. He really didn’t want to die by your hands.

“I was, well I was grabbing some water,” you fumbled for your words as Denki approached you, moving around the bar counter of your apartment to peer into the fridge himself from behind you. His hair was damp, sticking to his forehead indicating that he had just hopped out of the shower. No kidding, he had used your fruit passion shampoo along with lemon scented body wash again. You felt his hot breath on the back of your neck from how close he was to you, your tongue wetting your lips as you tried to ease your building nerves. You were never so nervous around him, he was your roommate and your best friend. The two of you had always been comfortable around each other.

You stood perfectly still, razor focused on the fruit cup on the top shelf to distract your mind that was buzzing with electricity. He smelled so good. He felt awfully warm. And he was incredibly close to you, so much so that you could hear his own inner monologue if you listened hard enough. You were so caught up in your thoughts that your mind barely registered that his hands were sitting comfortably on your waist. “Hey,” Denki spoke up, “Did you wear that for me?”

Processing his words, there was a tiny heat that began to burn low in your stomach. “I’m sorry?” you squeaked out.

“The black lacy ones. The ones that make me want to eat you out on the counter until you’re screaming. Did you wear those for me?” his voice was low, whispering deliciously into your ear. Sinful thoughts were clouding your mind, your previous intentions of getting a snack now lost to the idea of possibly choking on something else entirely tonight. “Denki—” His hands slipped beneath your shirt, stopping just below your breasts. You were starting to feel something hard poking at the cheek of your ass. Your breath hitched, thighs clenching together in an attempt to tame the growing heat between them. The two of you had been dancing around the notion of having feelings for each other for a long time.

You tried to look the other way every time he would stare at you for just a small bit longer than he should. He pretended to not notice the way you sat so very close to him, despite the entire couch being free. The way your fingertips brushed his thighs when you leaned over him to grab the remote. The way his touch lingered on your hip when he went to pass behind you while you cooked dinner together, his palms warm and jittery. Everything clicked together so perfectly for the two of you, it was beginning to become undeniable and almost comical at this point.

Tonight only made you more desperate for some type of release, since all of the previous tension between the two of you had crescendoed into Denki moulding his lips to your neck and sucking deep purple marks in a lovely pattern against your hot skin. Your legs felt weak, a strained moan escaping you. Between the cool air of the open fridge and his hands exploring your torso, it felt like heaven. His fingers pinched and pulled at your nipples eagerly, his name falling off your tongue as if second nature. You wanted him bad. And he wanted nothing more than to strip you of your clothes and have you right there in the kitchen.

Your legs quivered as he touched you, allowing yourself to lean back against him and succumb to his affection. “I’ve been waiting to do this for so long, baby,” the confidence radiating off the blond was dripping right into his tone. It made more of that liquid heat manifest in your lower half. You were quite certain that those lacy black panties Denki had been talking about now had a wet patch from all of his ministrations. His hands kept massaging at your breasts, small whimpers leaving your lips as you whispered out how you needed more from him. You panted, craning your neck to the side to give him more access to your skin. Your hips seemed to move on their own as you wiggled your ass right up against his prominent hard on. “Fuck,” he swore, fingers dipping into your shorts and past the waistline of your underwear to feel your slick. You were soaking from his touches, thighs shaking and fingers finding purchase in blond locks as his finger pad grazed your aching clit. “More,” you whined with need, “I wanna.. I wanna touch you, please.”

Denki’s mind felt like it was melting. Was this a dream? He never wanted to wake up if that was the case. He inserted a finger into your core, heart fluttering upon hearing you moan out for him again. Your walls hugged his single digit, his dick twitching at the sensation. You were feeling unbearably sensitive for some reason that night, the way his thumb drew circles around your clit paired with his finger reaching within you made your head light. “You’re so greedy, look at you fucking yourself on my fingers. Moaning like that for me. From how much you walk around like a little slut, you had this coming,” Denki nibbled at the lobe of your ear before adding a second digit, curling his fingers and further sending you into your pleasure. “Denki,” you called out again, head tossed against his shoulder, ass rubbing right against his dick in ways that made his head spin. “You’re so wet, do you hear that? Holy fuck, I can’t wait to taste you,” Denki’s words made the coil inside the pit of your stomach snap, your first orgasm of the night finally washing over you as you clenched around his fingers. It took all of Denki’s willpower not to cum in his boxers right then and there. Falling against him for support, your hips lazily rolled against his digits to ride out your high.

“Up on the counter babe, we’re not done yet. I’m still feeling a bit hungry,” he murmured into your ear. The two of you backed away from the fridge, leaving the door open to allow some light in the darkened kitchen. You turned to face him, seeing a bit of a loopy smile on his face despite his lust blown pupils. You wasted no time in connecting your lips, tongue sliding into his mouth with ease. Your body pressed his against the cool granite of the counter, his hands drifting lower down your back to meet the flesh of your ass. He tapped your ass a couple times, his fingers pinching at the fabric of your thin shorts. “You won’t be needing these,” he chuckled deeply against your lips. His drop in octave made you shiver. Your own hands mapped out his body, feeling across his abs that he prided himself on as a pro-hero while your other went right for his cock.

Your excited fingers pulled down his gray sweatpants along with his boxers, his cock springing free from its confines. There was a lovely amount of precum beading atop his reddening head, your thumb swirling the natural lube around his tip. The action elicited a groan from the blond, grabbing a bit harder at your ass. You were gentle, teasing even, your eyes glazed over in lust as your hand pumped his dick at a slow tempo. Denki’s hips began to fuck into your hand, his chest heaving as he took this time to shed himself of his t-shirt. He felt entranced by how your fingers looked so delicate fisting his cock, breath hitching in his throat as your wrist rolled with each stroke of his dick. “Do you know how— fuck — how long I’ve waited for this?” Denki’s words are gentle, his neck craning back down to nip at your exposed skin.

“Too long?”

“Way too long.”

You giggled and he groaned, a low rumble against your soft skin that makes you shiver yet again. You smirked with amusement as you felt him pulse in your hand, yet Denki pulled away from your touch just as you were about to tip him over the line to his own orgasm. “You, you first,” he told you, golden eyes trained on yours, “I like seeing you come undone for me.”

A whimper escaped you, his grin hungry with want for you and only you. “Let’s see how good you taste,” he pressed a final kiss to your lips as he eagerly dropped to his knees. With a shy look in your eyes, you allowed your legs to spread, giving Denki a full view of your pretty pussy. He was practically salivating, eyes taking in your wet sex with a strange fire lit behind them. He was eating good tonight. With your fingers threading in his hair and tugging lightly, he took it as his signal to go. You sucked in a gasp of surprise as something cool touched your already slick entrance. Oh, you had forgotten that Denki had a fucking tongue piercing.

Instinctively, your thighs started to close around Denki’s head. He held them open with ease, the metal ball of his piercing following the tip of his tongue as he happily traced your entrance. “Denki,” you huffed, growing frustrated at his languid pace. For a man who seemed rather eager, he was going very slowly. Denki hummed in response, lips now attached to your clit and you felt your body jolt at the feeling. Fuck. Maybe you should have bit your tongue instead. Channeling electricity through his quirk, you felt a shock emitted from the tiny piece of metal in his mouth to your aching clit. “Denki!” you moaned, eyelids fluttering as you struggled to keep your gaze on him. Your hands kept pulling at his semi-damp hair, rutting your hips as best as you could into his face as your heart beat rapidly in your chest. You felt ten times hotter than you did when you first entered the kitchen, your hands expelling your own sleep shirt to the floor as Denki moaned at the sight of your exposed tits. This gave him the opportunity to push his tongue into your pussy, your toes curling at the sensation of his tongue entering your heat. He had his fun, darting his tongue in and out of you as he kept moaning to keep up the tiny vibrations. Moving his bangs away from his eyes, you could only watch as he ate you out with his skilled muscle.

His tongue reached deeper inside of you, his hands holding your thighs apart firmly as they were threatening to clamp around his head with more force. You hadn’t anticipated that Denki would be this fucking good with his mouth. Your inner walls squeezed around him, your moans picking up in volume. Your nipples were peaked, your back arched and your head thrown back as all you could do was continuously grind your hips against his face. This only edged the blond further, his nose stimulating your swollen clit as his tongue delved as far as it could into your dripping cunt. You nearly screamed his name as you were finally tipped over the edge, your chest heaving as Denki suckled at your sensitive lower lips. He drank your essence happily, your body prickling with heat as he drew back to watch in awe at how your pussy fluttered invitingly around nothing. He was drunk on the feeling of you cumming on his mouth. You two were definitely doing that again.

As you steadily regulated your breathing, Denki slowly got up from his position on the floor. Wiping away a bit of your cum from the corner of his mouth, he threw you another grin. You swallowed dryly, “Need you.”

“What was that, baby?”

“Need you, Den. I need you in.. Please.” Your eyes were begging him to give you more. You had seen how much his cock had been leaking onto the kitchen floor, practically throbbing between his legs from not having given release. With a cheeky sort of smile, Denki gave you a kiss to your cheek before settling his lips to the shell of your ear. “Whatever you say, babe.”

In an instant, you were swept off the counter, your body being caged between the closed freezer door and Denki holding you up from beneath your thighs. His cock fell heavy against your stomach, twitching in its desperation for attention. The light emitting from the open door of the fridge illuminated the right half of the electric blond’s face, his expression lustful and giddy in the harsh LED lighting. It made your heart buzz with anticipation, your body tensing as he eased the head of his cock past your folds. Your hands scrambled for his shoulders, fingernails leaving red crescents along his creamy skin. Denki’s eyes were on you, his breathing irregular as you wasted no time in pulling out and thrusting back in with confidence. His lips swallowed your moans, the wet, lewd sounds of your fucking adding more tinder to the heat now coiling in the pit of your stomach for the third time tonight. “Please,” you begged, practically trembling from overstimulation as Denki rocked you into the cool aluminum of the freezer door.

“Please what, baby?” the playfulness in his tone didn’t match the serious manner in which he kept pistoning into you, chasing his own release as your slick from previous orgasms now coated his cock and ran down his thighs. Each time he went in, he angled himself right up to meet that special spot inside you to make you see tiny specks of white dot your vision. “I- I, ah! Denki!” Fingers now grasping at his hair again, you yanked harshly as you came around his pulsing cock for the third and final time, squeezing him snugly as you desperately attempted to catch your breath. There was a tingly sensation running through your legs starting from your thighs, numbing and electric as Denki kept up his quick pace to chase his own release, groaning dirty praises into your ear that made you keen. Your legs wrapped around his waist, urging him to go deeper and finish inside of you. His hips met yours for one last time, stuttering as he pumped his sticky cum into your abused hole. You two stayed there for a moment, you letting out quiet giggles as Denki took his time in getting the air back into his lungs. He let you down steadily from the position you had been in, making sure to hold you up since the feeling was still a bit lost in your legs.

“Wow that was,” Denki paused, struggling to find the right word for the situation you two had caught yourselves in. “Satisfying,” you finished for him, to which he blushed deeply. The smile he flashed you was earnest and relieved, if he was being quite honest. “Ah, nice! Let’s get you something to eat, maybe a cheese string. But definitely water!”

“I’m actually feeling pretty full right now in terms of cheese. Thanks for that, Den.”

“Wait really?” Denki questioned as he swept his boxers along with his shirt off the kitchen floor, his concern showing through his furrowed brow, “Not even for a cheese string?”

A deadpan look crossed your face, sighing as you gave in to your dumbass of a roommate. “One cheese string.”

“Bet!”

Needless to say, post sex activities consisted of a hot shower, the second Shrek movie, and two cheese strings (per Denki’s request). Not a bad way to relieve your stress, you concluded to yourself happily as you snuggled closer to your roommate, fingers intertwined beneath the blanket as you allowed yourself to slip into a comfortable slumber against Denki’s shoulder.

all works © eijishimas 2021. do not reuse, modify, or repost.

tags:

@cynthus-no @stoopidnekobish @brialoveskbtbb @baku-deku1 @cherrychan0

want to be on the taglist? see here.

[lampmanliveblogs]

You ever get so spooked by a little bird that your eyes just loose all their color?

Anyways, the Golden Guard has decided to be vulnerable and open up about his backstory a bit here. Some very interesting stuff for sure.

First off and the biggest thing that stands out to me is that he says that ”Belos found him.” That makes it sound like the two might not be related at all, and Belos more so adopted GG. Of course, GG might be smudging the details there a bit. He sounds sincere, but if Bria from last episode taught me anything it’s that sometimes seeming sincerity shrouds secrets. I love alliteration.

The point is, he could just be lying or simply obfuscating the true relationship between him and Belos. After all, it might not be the best idea to to tell the known troublemaker and associate of (formerly) wanted criminal and anarchist that the Emperor’s favorite nephew is sitting right there, powerless without his stick.

It’s not just that he called Belos uncle though, but also the wording Belos used when talking to him. He said specifically that ”wild magic destroyed our family.” Not your family or our families. Our family. Unless that’s meant to be like a really broad term, like they’re the same family of witch, a deme with a low affinity for magic of something and wild magic wiped them out.

For now, I’m gonna continue operating under assumption that the two are related.

Supposedly, the Titan had big plans for GG. By now, you should all know that I am highly skeptical of this whole ”Titan’s will” thing Belos has got going.

GG mentioned that a lot of his ancestors didn’t have any magic. The real interesting part though is that he says his staff contains ”artificial magic.” Which sounds weird. It’s pretty much all but confirmed that magic comes directly from the Titan. I think I speculated it was its life force or soul living on, but the particulars of that don’t matter too much. The interesting part is how exactly one makes ”artificial magic.” Unless it just means the staff acts as a battery that GG can use. That’d make sense, since Luz was able to use it too.

The Golden Guard also said that Luz could decide her own future. The implication in that line being the GG isn’t all happy about the future planned for him by Belos (or the Titan).

Having bonded over reading the same book, being without natural magical talent, and being uncertain/unhappy at their futures, Luz decides to give GG back his staff.

”I know the beginnings of a redemption arc when I see it.” -Luz, probably

”Y-you know, redemption is something you have to work towards and I realize it might be difficult to, uh… take that first step. Right now, you’re feeling confused and emotional so, um… tell you what, I have this friend in the Human Realm, his name is Steven, he ’s really good with this stuff. Why don’t you talk to him and I’ll, ah… be on my way?” -Luz, probably

(Check out Old Gem, Young Owl by 616mcu for some quality Luz and Steven being friends btw)

His name is Hunter.

…is sure a revelation that would’ve been a lot more impactful if I didn’t already know it. I hope you people appreciate my strength in resisting all of the quality puns I could’ve made throughout this episode.

No, no, this is still interesting. I can talk about it.

Every time we’ve seen him up until this episode, he’s been wearing his mask. Hiding his face. Going by the title of the Golden Guard, in some sense, hiding away who he is inside. Once he lost his mask, we started seeing who this unapproachable guardian of the empire was inside. And he’s a guy with insecurities and regrets.

I mentioned before that Luz and GG have some things in common. They both can’t use magic, they read the same book on wild magic… and here he is, sharing a closely guarded secret with her. His name is Hunter.

”Teleports behind you. It’s personal, Kiki.” -Hunter, probably

(see, it’s funny, because i used that same meme for the golden guard back in episode one so it’s like it came full circle)

[drabrianndelgado]

Bria happily obliged, walking to the lounge and talking with Jack. “You got it! Nothing but lingerie. I can live with that.”

Once at the pole, she stood beside it and let Jack get comfortable.

As she climbed it, she spoke. “So, what are the next plan for the empire? I had a few ideas, but nothing can stick as of late. I ran out of note paper…”

She used her legs to hang upside down and spin around slowly, hands supporting her from behind. “So now I’m working on half brain cells and Irish coffee.”

As they continued to talk, she did more intricate tricks, asking Jack to feed her the drink she wanted.

After her “warm up”, she turned on music and started stripping for him. As her hips swayed to the beat, she took off bits and pieces of her lingerie. Her eyes on Jack.

"Miss you, Baby." Lion @gothams-black-rabbit

Bria was looking out Jack’s new vacation home window. “Beautiful view.” She said to herself before her phone buzzed. It took her a while to actually move her eyes from the beach to her phone.

She read it, teared up a little, then responded. “I miss you too. I hope the kids aren’t giving you any trouble. And…I do hope I get to video chat with you later? I bought something I know you’d enjoy. ;)”

Turning from the window when she heard her guest bedroom door open, she smiled, seeing Jack eyeing her.

“Hey, you! Thank you for taking me on vacation. I know it’s a business trip, but it feels so…needed. You know?” She eyed Jack in return of his eyes wandering her body.

“Something on your mind?” She smiled softly.

@gothams-black-rabbit

[edalynn]

also like. didnt gus blush when bria was being nice to him in through the looking glass ruins?? never seen anyone try to misconstrue that interaction 🤔 wonder why

I’m so unsettled that I was watching that episode, had that thought, checked my inbox compulsively and saw this. But no, seriously. Everyone blushes when being praised or when ppl are nice to them- ESPECIALLY people that have been bullied or abused. And I’m POSITIVE we’ve seen characters like Luz blush for the same reasons when she and the other person are STRICTLY PLATONIC too.

At Eda in the pilot ep when she says “us weirdos have to stick together”

At the puppet wizard’s flattery in the second ep

At Eda again when she tells Luz she’s “right” about where witches’ magic comes from.

We’ve even seen Willow blush more at Luz being nice to her while barely giving hunter the time of day. So. Yeah 🙃

[drachenfalter]

Okay, but did anyone else see the parallels between Through the Looking Glass Ruins and Lost in Language?

No, not the Library or Lumity. I'm talking about the Blight Twins and the Glandus Kids:

Both of them are first introduced as the cool guys and invite Luz/Gus to join in on their plan. Strictly speaking, neither of them need our protagonists help for their scheme, but are willing to include them.

At first, things go great for Luz/Gus, but eventually we get to the end of the journey: Amity's secret hideout and the Looking Glass Graveyard.

Once Luz and Gus realize what they're doing is wrong, they stand their ground against their new friends. (I also want to point out that the twins weren't trying to screw with Luz and the Glandus kids also didn't have anything against Gus, until this moment.)

But here the stories diverge.

After Amity catches them, Emira and Edric are quick to abandon their plan - it was just a prank, after all, and they don't have much skin in the game.

Not so with Bria, Angmar and Gavin. To them, the galderstones could be life changing, giving them a chance become the top dog at Glandus High. They stick to their original plan when challenged and default back to Glandus rules to get what they want.

So while Luz manages to part with the twins without too much animosity, Gus ends up having to fight his new, cool friends.

[histories-and-mystery]

Kevin and the Coffee Shop

Chapter 3

*Seán’s POV*

Seán led Brian into the emergency room and helped him to the front desk. 

“Hi, ye see Bria-”Sean was cut off by the nurse who took one look at the burned brown-haired man with heterochromia and a sleeve tattoo and ushered both of them back to an examination room. They both waited a few minutes before a second nurse came in. She asked Brian a few questions about the incident and his injury, all of which he answered quite calmly despite the fact that they were quite repetitive. Seán could sense Brian was getting antsy by the time the nurse left

“Brian , they’re just tryin to get the whole story”

“I know! I’m just tired and annoyed. And, oh yeah, my face hurts like a bitch” he snapped, with impeccable timing too as just as he finished the ER doctor came in. with a laugh she said

“Well now, that's what we’re here to help with isn't it” both men turned to her as she introduced herself “My name is Dr. Margret Taylor and as I see your face is burned”

Brian blinked and chuckled a little “yeah, some dickhead threw coffee in my face. Ya know casual Tuesday”

“Its Monday Brian” Seán teased. The man scoffed and turned away as Dr. Taylor came closer. She inspected his face carefully, turning his head gently to look at the wound in more detail.

“Well” she started “it could be worse. Its a second degree burn so I’ll clean it up and bandage it. And of course you’re gonna have to change the bandage every few hours and apply more burn cream but we’ll set you up with that.” Brian nodded and watched as she took a cloth and cleaned off the affected area, Seán could see Brian cringe the moment she started and he himself began to worry more. Walking away Dr. Taylor opened a cabinet and took out a large circular container from the shelf and walked back over explaining

“Its burn cream, we’ll write you a prescription for it when ya leave here, that way you can apply it yourself” she began spreading the cream on Brian’s skin, lightly she continued “you’re real lucky this didn’t hit your eye, you would've been down a brown eye”

“Oh, that would suck” was the only thing Brian had said

 Seán chuckled lightly “Yeah its one of the only traits that make you handsome in any way” 

Brian shifted and glared playfully “Come on lad, I've got my sparkling personality” “Yeah alright Casanova, you haven't proved that once”

Brian scoffed as Dr. Taylor laughed “Alright, alright no fighting in my examination room” she closed the tin and moved back to the cabinet. She took out a gauze pad and some wrapping materials. When she turned to face them she saw Brian sticking his tongue out and Seán mirroring him while pulling on his eyelid. It was like that for a moment till both of them burst into laughter. She chuckled and walked back over. Placing the gauze over the burn she began wrapping it up. Once she was done she smiled at them “Alright boys, you're all set, head to the front and get everything sorted”. They both thanked her and headed to the front desk.

*Kevin’s POV*

It had been at least an hour or so since they had arrived at the hospital. Most of that time had been spent in idle silence. None of the lads that were left really wanted to speak, and even if they did none of them could. To Daithi and Dan it had all happened so quickly. Their once mildly peaceful workplace was thrown into an all out saloon brawl where one of their friends had been horribly burned due to a dickhead with too much attitude and an easily bruised ego. For Kevin it was a bit like lighting a marshmallow on fire and then waiting till it burned, his gut feeling had been right. Something bad did happened today. Kevin looked once more to the hospital door. He was getting more worried

“Do you think Brian’s alright?”

It was silent for a moment till Daithi spoke. “why are you asking that now? He’s at the hospital isn’t he?” He moved his hand away from his chin to run it through his black hair. 

“I don’t know, it’s taking longer then expected” Kevin looked back to his lap playing with the string of his hoodie. Dan placed a hand on his shoulder. 

“I’m sure he’s alright Kevin. if he wasn’t Seán would have called us by now.” Kevin didn’t react to Dan’s words, just continued playing with his hoodie. Dan roughly nudged Daithi who grumbled before focusing outside the window again. Dan huffed and kicked Daithi 

“Augh! Yeah I’m sure Brian’s fine he’s tough”

“Alright” Kevin said softly “I guess you’re right”

The car returned to its uneasy silence. Moments later, Kevin saw that Brian and Seán were just at the door and headed back to the car. 

“There they are!” As the others turned to look at the pair the first thing they noticed was the right side of Brian’s face. Where once there was a brown eye, in contrast to the blue of his other eye, there was nothing but bandages. From what Kevin could see, Brian wouldn’t even look in the car. His fists were clenched and there was a grimace on his lips. Seán seemed to be saying something to reassure him but Kevin couldn’t make it out

They opened the door, Seán getting in first and then Brian. Once he was settled he reached for the handle but found it was much farther then he thought it was. He let out a frustrated huff and slammed the door closed

“Jeez Brian” Dan jumped “what’d the doctors say”. Brian crossed his arms and glared ahead. Seán spoke up

“They said it was a second degree burn. he’s gonna have to wear that wrapping on his face for the next three weeks”

Dan nodded “ah that sucks, least it’ll heal soon right?”.

Brian didn’t speak. Not even when Seán asked the group if they all wanted to go home and not even when Kevin, Brian and Seán were the last in the car. He was silent the whole way to his house and as he left the car. Kevin watched as he climbed up the driveway of his home, struggled with the key and went inside. 

Kevin turned to Seán “you think he’ll be alright”

“I don’t know honestly. I’m pretty sure right now he’s planning a murder” Seán chuckled “jokes aside he’s not too badly hurt. At least it will heal fine. That’s what the doctors said”

Kevin didn’t really know how to respond except to nod. He was worried for Brian, as were the other lads, he just didn’t know how to help 

“How bout this” Seán started again “I’ll get ya home to rest, ya take the day off and you start training on Wednesday?” 

“Oh” Kevin blinked “I almost forgot I got a job” laughing a little he nodded “yeah Wednesday works for me”

Seán smiled as they drove up to Kevin’s apartment. He parked and unlocked the door. Kevin said a quick Goodnight and headed into his apartment buliding. After that Kevin figured he deserved a nice long rest.

...........................................................................................................................

an: ooooooo POV change, wasnt who some of you were expecting tho but I think I’ll save that bit for later ;)

[planetsano]

bria!! what can you say about canon chifuyu? i haven’t met him in the anime yet but fanon chifuyu sounds like such a sweetheart i’m starting to fall in love with him :(

canon chifuyu is a sweetheart. i can full heartedly say he’s an extremely loyal and caring friend. overall, he’s definitely softer than the other boys and.. he kind of wears his heart on his sleeve too.

and i mean that as in he’s not afraid to cry but he’s not as nearly as bad as michi. you’ll understand what I mean if you read the manga or see further in the season.

fuyu is opinionated but not overbearingly so, if he has something to say he’ll definitely speak what’s on his mind and doesn’t really sugarcoat it.

chifuyu’s temperament is also very mild. he’s a laid back kind of guy?

fuyu is the guy you’d trust to hold your drink at a party and definitely the guy who’s stick up for you and get physical if some creep won’t leave you alone.

[bridgeportbritt]

The Style Report | Umbrage, SimDonia

Audience Applause

Bria: Welcome back to wedding episode of the Style Report! We’re here with the absolutely lovely, Princess Ayumi of Hofsfell!

Ayumi: Hello, everyone! Thanks for having me!

Bria: Thanks for being here, Ayumi! Especially on this very special episode!

Ayumi: I watch all the time. In fact, I already know that I need to tell you about my outfit! I’m wearing the Selene suit by @sentate​.

Bria: Wow, you beat me to the punch! We love a true watcher, Ayumi! And that suit looks amazing on you! I’m going to grab one in pink!

Ayumi: You’d look stunning in it! Just as stunning as you do in that Meghan dress by @melonsloth​! I’d recognize it anywhere.

Bria: You have a good eye! This is one of my favorites by them. So, it’s no coincidence that we asked you here for our wedding episode. You’re in the midst of wedding plan as this very moment.

Ayumi: Yes, there are so many decisions to make! But, I’m really excited and just can’t wait to marry Daniel. He’s the sweetest!

Bria: Aw, you two make a lovely couple. I can’t wait to see your dress! I’m sure it’s going to be beautiful. Anything you can tell us about it?

Ayumi laughs: Nice try! No spoilers until the day of. Sorry, Bria!

Bria laughs: It was worth a shot! Thank you so much for being our special guest today, Ayumi! Stick around after the commercial break, we’ll be back with a special surprise from out Style Reporters!

Audience applause

Bria: I’m so grateful to everyone who supports and makes this brand happen everyday. All the people behind the scenes, the crews, the designers, the models, the staff in the KBE stores, the marketing team, my friends who come on my show and help me make this happen. And most importantly to all of you who tune in and talk fashion with me or who proudly wear KBE. This brand would be nowhere with you. Without further ado, I’m excited to show you the next KBE Collection - Sparkle Formal Wear!

Bria: Clara is wearing the Sparkle Short Dress in Blue! It’s perfect for bridesmaids or for events where you want to look a bit more casual but not too casual! This dress comes in blue, purple, pink, black and white!

Bria: Modest girls? This one’s for you. Kendall is wearing our Sparkle Long Sleeve Dress in pink. I’m in love with the floral detail on the skirt, but I’m even more in love with the fact that we have a hijab that matches perfectly in all colors of pink, blue, purple, white, and black!

Bria: Trina and Patricia are showing off the Sparkle Jumpsuit. This elegant piece also comes in pink, blue, and white! But, we love the purple and black versions the girls have on! Perfect for any formal occasion!

Bria: And now, the moment you’ve all been waiting for! For weeks, we’ve been searching for the next KBE model. After a fierce competition, it’s time to see our new Style Reporter. In the Sparkle Collection’s signature dress is...

Bria: Florence!!! We’re so excited to finally welcome to the Style Report family! She’s wearing the signature dress from this collection which is the Sparkle Formal dress. This dress shimmers, shines, and of course, sparkles! Perfect for an elegant bride!

Bria: That’s our show! Thank you Ayumi, thank you style reporters, thank you Florence, thank you for watching! The KBE Sparkle Formal Collection drops today! We can’t wait to see you sparkle! See you next time! And remember, stay gorgeous!

@whitmoreroyals​ @eslanes​​​

[briamichellewrites]

7

Micha was a fluff cloud. That’s what Mike called him because that’s what he looked like. He watched him explore Bria’s bedroom and he made sure he didn’t get hurt. At the moment, he was chasing down a dust bunny underneath her bed. He was so small, he could fit easily. It was dark under there. Meow? He looked around until he saw the human looking at him. There you are! He swatted at the dust bunny, making it move.

She came back in after using the bathroom. Where’s Micha? Mike pointed him out. He was going to get covered in dust. Meow. I’m in here, human! Good thing she had a raised bed. Otherwise, his tail would get caught in the box spring. He came out and back over to Mike. She scooped him up and inspected him. Yeah, he had some dust sticking to his coat.

She brought him into the bathroom. Using a hand towel, she cleaned him up. She then wrapped him into a kitten burrito and brought him out, holding him like a newborn baby. Mike laughed because he looked so cute! Only his head was sticking out. He scratched his little head, making him purr. That feels good, human! She was a great cat mother to him. He got out his camera and took a picture of them together. When he had his film developed, he would make sure she got a copy. Awesome!

Her adorableness attracted him to her, as well as her beauty. How did he get so lucky? She made his negative emotions disappear. Yes, he knew they were in the beginning stages of their relationship. Everything was new and exciting. Eventually, they would get used to each other and those feelings would fade. That was when they had to decide to stay together or break up.

She never had a boyfriend before. He had multiple girlfriends over the years. His last relationship ended after six months. It was more of two friends hooking up than a regular relationship. They had to admit that they didn’t feel any romantic attraction to each other. It was hard but it was better than leading each other on. They went their separate ways. That was life. He wished her nothing but the best. His relationship with Bria felt real.

They were taking a risk by dating. What if they ruined their friendship? He couldn’t see that happening. If they broke up, they would remain friends because of longevity. Even if they had to separate themselves for a while to work through their grief. He would always love her. She would never be the girl he dated for a while and then forgot about.

Especially since their families were close friends. Eventually, Micha got tired of being in the burrito. He struggled to get out. She unwrapped him and checked his coat before putting him on the floor. The dust was gone. He licked his paw and used it to clean his face before going over to play.

The voices in my head get so loud

I try to tune them out

Can you see my fake smile

Will I be the girl you forget about

Twenty years from now?

The following day, they were watching the premiere of her new music video from her debut album on MTV. He got to see the behind-the-scenes of how a music video was filmed. It was very interesting. She was involved in the entire process from beginning to end. The video showed her fighting with demons who represented her anxiety, depression and internal self-doubt. It also showed her hiding from ghosts, who represented the paparazzi and media attention she was receiving.

At the end of the video stood a man and a woman, who represented her parents. She had a look of hope on her face. No matter what, they would always be there for her. It was very well done. He congratulated her. Thank you. The guys also watched it. Were those her parents at the end of the video? No, they were two actors who were hired by Jeff to play her parents.

She didn’t want to ask them to cameo. Because of their jobs, she wanted them to have privacy. That was understandable. They hoped the video would start a conversation about mental health. That was her intention. How was her new cat? Mike mentioned she adopted one.

“You’re changing the subject.”

They laughed.

“His name is Micha. He’s an eight-week-old Ragdoll kitten.”

“Did you choose that name for him?”

“No, I would have named him Snowball or Ghost or something like that because he’s completely white. He came with that name. I didn’t think about him having a similar name as Mike until after I brought him home.”

Meow? Micha heard his name. Human, where are you? She got up after hearing him meowing. Meow? After finding him in the hallway, she bent down and scooped him up. There you are, human! I found you! She brought him out to the living room, so everyone could meet him. They were all taken by the tiny kitten. He was adorable with his tiny triangle ears, big blue eyes and cute little paws. Hi, humans! I’m Micha! He got passed around to whoever wanted to hold him.

Dave held him like a baby. They laughed.

“Yesterday, he was crawling under my bed and got covered in dust bunnies. I wrapped him up like a burrito in a hand towel. He loved it!”

“Yeah, it was so adorable”, Mike said with a smile.

“How long did he tolerate it for”, Joe asked.

“It was about five minutes. Then he got antsy, so I let him go. He probably got overheated from being wrapped up.”

Yeah, that was possible. Cats were more sensitive to that than humans. Mike took a picture of them together. He would share it with them after he got his role of film developed. Was he living at the house? No, not officially. They weren’t at that point yet. Maybe in a few years. Chester thought about her music video. Mental illness was something he struggled with. His wife, Samantha wanted him to get help for his trauma.

Rob also had experience with depression and anxiety. He knew what it was like to not feel good enough. She was in the spotlight with the world watching her. He would want to hide from everyone. Just like she was doing. He was on medication for his illnesses, which helped calm the voices in his mind. Only his closest friends and family knew about his mental health issues.

He wasn’t ashamed of them. Rather, he was just a very private person. Everything was on a need-to-know basis. His family respected that, even when it frustrated them. What was Rob doing? They had no idea. But the less he told people, the less they gossiped about him.

He looked down at Micha, who was sniffing him out and smiled. Dave called him a kitten magnet, making them laugh. Would he get a cat? He was very tempted to do that. They encouraged him to do it. He and Bria could have kitten play dates. You talked me into it. They laughed. She offered to go with him to pick one out. He would love that.

@zoeykaytesmom @feelingsofaithless @alina-dixon