#there have been things in the past yeah and it was deserved. but that was a while ago and these people weren’t around for it or stuck -

[seitmai]

There’s…something going on between them, but you never ask. Just like they know you’re hooking up with both of them, but neither ask you about that either.

There are worse arrangements 🤷🏻‍♀️😌

Bradley flushes but appears otherwise unbothered he takes the beer you offer. His eyes are on yours while he replies, “I’ve got a high sex drive.” God, does he ever. Not once in the countless nights you’ve spent with him over the past year has he only gone one round. Usually, the next morning too, when you wake up to his hard cock pressing against your ass.

He sure does and he knows it 🤭

A few days go by with radio silence. Which is unusual despite the casual situationship you’re in with them both. At least you keep telling yourself it’s casual.

Alexa play Casual by Chappell Roan

Both Jake and Bradley have made it abundantly clear that they want more from you, but you keep using the excuse that you’re not looking for anything serious right now. But the truth is, you can’t choose between them.

Fair🤷🏻‍♀️

And how could you? Bradley’s charming, funny, and easy-going nature puts you at ease. His cool confidence carries into the bedroom too, the way he coaxes orgasm after orgasm from your body with his dirty words, his talented tongue, his big hands, and bigger cock… Then there’s Jake. Sure, he’s a cocky asshole, but that’s the thing you lov-like most about him. The way he teases, overstimulates, pushes your body to the limits, and makes you beg is addicting in itself. But in the quiet after, his well hidden sweet, vulnerable side is revealed with murmured praises and sweet kisses to your trembling skin as he wraps his body around yours.

“Yeah,” he snaps out of it, giving you a sheepish look, “not the best idea in hindsight.” “Not really,” you agree, brushing your fingers over his, “I’ve been lonely without you, Roo.”

Hindsight is 20/20

He exhales shakily at that, giving you a heated look at the name you call him only in bed. “Yeah,” you sigh, “I wanted to try it out with you, but I don’t think I can wait that long. I need you, Roo. My fingers, toys…nothing compares to the way your cock feels.” “Jesus,” he breathes, rising suddenly, “I-I gotta go.”

He really has to physically remove himself 😅

He backs you up against the shelving and cages you in with his arms. “Does your toy fill you up the way I can?” He emphasizes his question with a roll of his hips. “Does it make you cum over and over until you’re trembling and tears fill your pretty eyes? Do you have to beg? Say ‘please’ for it to stop?” “No,” your answer is soft and breathy. His eyes dip to your lips as you lean in, “but it doesn’t neglect me for a month over a stupid competition either.”

Oh he deserved that 🤭

“Fuck,” he pants, resting his head on your trembling thigh with a grimace, “I just lost.” “You lo-what?” The ability to think straight left when the first brush of his tongue. “I just came in my fuckin’ pants,” he sighs, his arms shaking as he lifts himself to his knees. Your eyes drop to the wet spot staining his jeans, “I lost.”

🤭🤭🤭

No Nut November

Part 1 (Part 2 here)

Jake Seresin x Female Reader/You x Bradley Bradshaw

Summary: Bradley and Jake decide to partake in No Nut November…without consulting you first. You’re determined to make them cave.

Warnings: Adults (18+) only! MDNI! This work contains: adult language, dirty talk, teasing, talks of ass play/anal, oral (f receiving), a little spanking.

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“You wouldn’t last a week,” Jake chuckles as he leans forward over the green velvet pool table to shoot, “I’ve bunked with you for chrissakes.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Bradley asks, resting his back against the wall.

The way his eyes heat when they flick to Jake’s jean-clad ass makes your stomach flutter as you drop off the round of beers.

There’s…something going on between them, but you never ask. Just like they know you’re hooking up with both of them, but neither ask you about that either.

“It means,” Jake straightens as he replies, “I’ve heard you rub one out. Like, every night.”

The image his words bring to mind nearly makes you drop the tray. Bradley lying there in the dark, hand shoved inside those boxer briefs, biting his lip to stay quiet as he hurriedly jerks off…

Bradley flushes but appears otherwise unbothered he takes the beer you offer. His eyes are on yours while he replies, “I’ve got a high sex drive.”

God, does he ever. Not once in the countless nights you’ve spent with him over the past year has he only gone one round. Usually, the next morning too, when you wake up to his hard cock pressing against your ass.

“And no self-control apparently,” Jake quips at your back, sliding his fingers down your arm as he reaches around to take one of the bottles.

Bradley rolls his eyes as he takes a long swig, holding the bottle out to you when he’s done. “Will you hold this while I wipe the floor with Bagman, sweetheart?”

“Hangman,” Jake corrects like he does every time.

Bradley winks as he hands you the bottle, knocking his shoulder into Jake’s after he takes the cue from him.

“So,” you say as you turn to watch, leaning back in the spot Bradley vacated before bringing his beer to your lips to steal a drink, “What were you two talking about?”

“No Nut November,” Jake replies, retesting beside you. “A couple of the boys are participating. Bradshaw thinks he could do it no problem.”

“What about you?” You look up day him, “Think you can go a full month without it?”

He licks his lips, taking a drink before meeting your gaze.

“30 days of without your hand,” your nails trail up his arm, goosebumps rising in their wake, “or mine.” He tenses when you lean in to whisper near his ear, “Without my mouth or pussy…”

“Fuck,” he breathes, turning his head. The green in his eyes is hardly visible from his lust-blown pupils. The low din of the bar fades away as he draws closer for a kiss.

“Your turn,” Bradley interrupts, causing you both to jump, “And you say I’m the one with no self-control?”

“Yeah,” Jake pushes off the wall, clearing his throat, “You’re the one who can’t wait to jerk off until his bunkie is asleep,” he turns to look at you with a haughty look, “and yes. I can go 30 days without.”

Your brow arches at the line he just drew.

Game on.

“Fuck off,” Bradley laughs, as Jake tugs the cue from his hand and lines up his shot. “Well instead of going to the bathroom 10 minutes later to do the same thing, you could’ve just said something.”

Jake doesn’t reply, but the way his body stiffens tells you what you need to know.

“That’s what I thought,” Bradley murmurs. His smirk turns to a frown when he takes his beer back that’s now only half full.

Penny catches your eye and back behind the bar you go.

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Even though you don’t hear the rest of the conversation, they both leave shortly after with a bullshit excuse about an early morning hop.

Like that’s ever stopped either of them before.

A few days go by with radio silence. Which is unusual despite the casual situationship you’re in with them both. At least you keep telling yourself it’s casual.

Both Jake and Bradley have made it abundantly clear that they want more from you, but you keep using the excuse that you’re not looking for anything serious right now.

But the truth is, you can’t choose between them.

And how could you? Bradley’s charming, funny, and easy-going nature puts you at ease. His cool confidence carries into the bedroom too, the way he coaxes orgasm after orgasm from your body with his dirty words, his talented tongue, his big hands, and bigger cock…

Then there’s Jake. Sure, he’s a cocky asshole, but that’s the thing you lov-like most about him. The way he teases, overstimulates, pushes your body to the limits, and makes you beg is addicting in itself. But in the quiet after, his well hidden sweet, vulnerable side is revealed with murmured praises and sweet kisses to your trembling skin as he wraps his body around yours.

You don’t reach out either and a full week goes by before you see either of them again.

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“Hey sweetheart,” the sound of Bradley’s voice from behind makes your heart flutter.

“Hey,” you turn, feigning nonchalance as you wipe down the bar, “Long time no see.”

I’ve missed you.

“Yeah,” he sighs, sitting on one of the stools, “it’s been crazy at work.”

“Oh,” you fill a glass with what’s on tap and set it down in front of him, “figured you were avoiding me.”

“Now why would I be avoiding you?” He smiles before he brings the bottle to his lips, eyes twinkling.

“You know why,” you lean over the bar, giving him a nice view of your pushed-up breasts down your shirt as you clean the wood in front of him, “You agreed to No Nut November, didn’t you?”

He’s licking the foam from his mustache, eyes locked on your chest when you straighten, “Huh?”

“You and Jake are doing No Nut November, aren’t you?”

“Yeah,” he snaps out of it, giving you a sheepish look, “not the best idea in hindsight.”

“Not really,” you agree, brushing your fingers over his, “I’ve been lonely without you, Roo.”

He exhales shakily at that, giving you a heated look at the name you call him only in bed.

“And it’s only…” you look at the calendar, “November 10th.”

“I know,” he looks pained, “I’ll make it up to you, sweetheart, I swear.”

“Yeah, for a whole 30 seconds,” you say sarcastically, “can’t wait.”

“Really?” He deadpans, and you have to bite your lip to keep from laughing, “When have I ever gotten off before you did? The first time doesn’t count.”

That does make you laugh. He’d chased you for months and was excited, a little too excited the first time you finally let him in your pants. But he’d dropped to his knees after and definitely made up for being quick on the draw.

Just the thought of him looking up at you between your thighs with those honey-brown eyes nearly makes you whimper.

“You’re right,” you smile, “other than the first time, you’ve never gotten off before me.”

He smirks as he brings the glass up to his lips again.

“I suppose it’s not like I can’t get myself off either,” you sigh again, “it’s just not the same though. My fingers don’t fill me up the way you do.”

“Fuck sweetheart,” he sputters, “you can’t just say things like that.”

“But it’s true,” you shrug before leaning in to whisper, relishing in the way he tenses, “I ordered that bigger plug we talked about. It came in the mail yesterday.”

“Oh yeah?” He croaks, tilting his head to ghost his lips over your jaw.

He’s been obsessed with your ass since he first saw you. You brought up trying anal after he played with your ass during doggy and it’s something the two of you have been working towards.

“Yeah,” you sigh, “I wanted to try it out with you, but I don’t think I can wait that long. I need you, Roo. My fingers, toys…nothing compares to the way your cock feels.”

“Jesus,” he breathes, rising suddenly, “I-I gotta go.”

Your eyes drop and your mouth waters when he reaches for his wallet; his cock is straining against the tight denim.

“I’m sorry,” he grimaces as he throws a 20 on the bar before backing away, “I’ll call you, I promise.”

“Okay,” you shrug as if you couldn’t care less, but your heart races.

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Jake shows up 2 nights later and you barely spare him a glance.

This whole thing is his fault, after all.

He finds you doing inventory in the storage room when there’s a lull in service.

“You mad at me?” He asks, moving your hair aside to kiss the weak spot below your ear.

“No,” you try to keep your voice steady, “I love not hearing from or seeing you for over a week.”

Shit.

You cringe, kicking yourself for letting him see you vulnerable.

He pauses, but only for a moment. “I’m sorry, I’ve been busy with work.”

“Yeah,” you murmur, bending over suddenly to check the bottles of liquor on the lowest shelf, “Me too.”

The new position pushes your ass into Jake’s crotch and his hands instinctively reach for your hips.

“What are you doin’ honey?” He grits out, pulling you back to feel every hard inch of him, “‘sides playing with fire?”

His Texas twang comes out when he’s turned on but you suppress the shiver it brings.

“Inventory,” you reply, straightening to write the number down.

“I miss you,” he whispers, making your heart skip a beat, “and I don’t mean just this,” he finds the sweet spot on your neck again. “But I can’t seem to keep my hands,” his fingers dig into your hips as he ruts against your ass, “or my cock to myself when you’re around.”

“So don’t,” you murmur, turning your head to brush your lips over his, “Please Jake?”

I miss you too.

“I…can’t,” he sighs regretfully, squeezing your hips once more before taking a step back, “I’m sorry, darlin’.”

“Let me guess, you’ll make it up to me when November’s over?” Your eyes narrow as you face him, crossing your arms.

He cringes. “Well…yeah.”

You sigh. “Not sure if I’ll even need you anymore, I’m getting pretty used to my vibrator.”

He backs you up against the shelving and cages you in with his arms. “Does your toy fill you up the way I can?” He emphasizes his question with a roll of his hips. “Does it make you cum over and over until you’re trembling and tears fill your pretty eyes? Do you have to beg? Say ‘please’ for it to stop?”

“No,” your answer is soft and breathy. His eyes dip to your lips as you lean in, “but it doesn’t neglect me for a month over a stupid competition either.”

You duck under his arm and try not to laugh at his heavy sigh as you walk away.

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Another week goes by. Bradley calls once and they each text randomly but keep things PG, not taking the bait when you send suggestive ones back either. Or send dirty pictures. Jake just sent you a 🖕🏻 in response to the picture of your hand down the front of your panties and Bradley left you on read when you sent him a photo of your lace-clad bottom, holding the new plug.

No Nut November is more than halfway over but you’re completely over it.

While the night before Thanksgiving is one of the busiest of the year, you took off to finish preparing for the holiday. You’re hosting the Daggers who aren’t going home or don’t have anyone to go home to.

Everything is good to go a little after 9. With a sigh, you begin to pull the apron over your head but pause with an idea.

Wearing nothing but the apron, you take a picture of your reflection; nipples just visible and your hand running up your inner thigh.

You: Everything’s ready for tomorrow. Wanna come over for a taste test?

Next, you turn around, capturing your bare ass and an innocent look.

You: Too bad the turkey is the only thing getting stuffed tonight.

With a sigh you hop in the shower, not realizing you sent the pictures to them both.

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There’s a knock at the front door as you flick off the water.

“Just a second!” You call, wrapping your towel around you tightly.

“It’s Jake,” he calls back, muffled.

“Come in,” you reply. He knows where the spare is, but still knocks out of respect. “I’m just getting out of the shower.”

“What’s up?” You ask as you come out of the bathroom, the pictures already forgotten.

Jake’s leaning against the wall across, waiting.

“I’m here for that taste test,” he hungrily looks over your bare legs as he pushes off the wall.

“What about the bet?” Your breath catches as he weaves his hands into your hair.

“It’s still on,” he answers before capturing your lips in a dizzying kiss.

“But…” you start when he pulls off your lips to find your neck instead, “What are-“

“I’ll take a cold shower after,” he murmurs against the sensitive skin, making you shiver. “I can’t spend another night without yo-making you feel good.”

Your heart stutters at his Freudian slip.

“Okay,” you whisper, leaning back in. Your legs wrap around his waist when he grabs your bare ass and lifts, carrying you into your room before laying you down on the bed, your phone digging into your back.

He rips the towel open as you reach for the phone, tossing it aside without a glance…or noticing that you hit the call button.

“Oh Jake,” you moan loudly, drowning out the sound of Bradley picking up when he doesn’t hesitate to devour you like the starved man he is. Your hands find his hair as he tongues your cunt and tug when he hones in on your clit.

“I’ve missed this sweet pussy,” he sounds as wrecked as you feel as he brings his hand up, pushing two fingers inside you, his hips slowly rutting against the bed, “dreamed about it every fucking night and woke up hard and wanting you every morning.”

“Y-oh,” a needy whine escapes as he curls his fingers against your g-spot, “you poor thing.”

He pulls his fingers out to slap your clit, making you gasp, clenching around nothing. “Don’t be a brat.”

“You could’ve had me,” your fingers tighten in his hair before pulling him back in, “this was your idea.”

Your eyes fall closed and he groans when he puts his mouth on you again. “Stupid fuckin’ idea.”

“Uh-huh,” you agree, panting. “You’re never doing it again. I won’t allow it.”

“What about Roo?”

Your eyes fly open to see him smirking. “W-what about him?”

“Is he allowed to do it again?” He licks a long, slow stripe through your arousal as he waits for your answer.

You swallow thickly, before slowly shaking your head. “Nope.”

He arches his brow but doesn’t reply, instead doubling his efforts. You release the breath you didn’t realize you were holding when his tongue slides up to your clit, circling while he pushes his fingers back inside you.

“Yeah,” you whine, tugging his hair and grinding against his face, “that’s-that’s good. Just like that, Jake. Keep going, I’m close.”

Jake just moans as you use him. His hips rutting harder but his mouth and fingers keep the same, sweet rhythm until you’re teetering on the edge of release.

But then he gently sucks your clit into his mouth and that’s all it takes to push you over. Your hands pull his hair as your back arches, legs wrapping around his head as you ride out the waves of pleasure.

A low, guttural groan is ripped from his throat as you writhe against him, the sight, the taste and the sounds of your release proving to be too much.

“Fuck,” he pants, resting his head on your trembling thigh with a grimace, “I just lost.”

“You lo-what?” The ability to think straight left when the first brush of his tongue.

“I just came in my fuckin’ pants,” he sighs, his arms shaking as he lifts himself to his knees. Your eyes drop to the wet spot staining his jeans, “I lost.”

A breathy laugh escapes as your toes run over his still semi-hard cock, “Sorry?”

“No you’re not,” he sighs, his eyes darkening, “but you will be.”

The air is pushed from your lungs as he flips you onto your stomach, slapping your ass so hard tears spring to your eyes.

“Hey!” You scrabble to get away from the assault but his hand between your shoulders pushes you back down, “It’s not my fault! I didn’t even touch you!”

“You didn’t,” he agrees, slapping the other ass cheek equally as hard, “but you did tease me at the bar, and send me dirty pictures and-“

“I won’t tell Roo if you won’t!” You rush out when his hand leaves your ass presumably to spank you again.

“It’s a little late for that.”

Both of your heads whip toward your bedroom door where Bradley’s standing, clad in that gaudy Hawaiian print he wears so well, his erection obvious against the confines of the tight-as-sin jeans.

He also knows where your spare is.

His eyes rake over your naked body, smirking as he holds his phone up for the both of you to see. The color leaves your face as you see your name reflected on the screen.

He’s been listening the whole time.

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A/N: Hope you enjoyed part 1! Part 2 should be along in the next few days. Spoiler: the turkey is NOT the only thing getting stuffed 😉

Tagging a few I think may be interested:

@callsigns-haze

@writtingrose

@blindedbythelightt

@phoenix-rising-starbird-one

@dizzybee03

@shanimallina87

@lexixstewart

@hookslove1592

@jessicab1991

@livzblog

@carolina-on-my-mind03

@racerchix21

@that-one-fangirl69

@mrsbradshaw-seresin01

@sydneejean

@xoxabs88xox

@midnightmagpiemama

@its-the-pilot

@kmc1989

@psuedochakra

@fandomology101

@kneelforloki

@djs8891

@mavrellover91

@hotch-meeeeeuppppp

@seitmai

@emerald-jade1

@alwayshave-faith

@thespillingvoid

@glenpowellluver

@lunatygerqueen

@bigstrongpowellheart

@ahotmesswithprivilege

[tarotbyjam24]

What's there in December ?

Like and reblogs are very much appreciated :) thankyou for stopping by <3 🌷

Lately feeling stagnant huh ? Wondering about your potential how you were so amazing in past times and now you just don't have excitement to put in efforts ? For just last one time . I'll say gather yourself again this one's the last and final push to get there . I feel having a sense of competition can push you to put in more efforts because in real there're so many competitors and they all are amazing and so you're too ! Take the risk don't be in your comfort zone ! It's enough already , there's so much out there to experience and enjoy and you're just rotting on your rocking chair when you could just sit on the Thorne and enjoy the life babe !

Be more optimistic, have a vision for your life make a vision board for yourself stick it in your room or make a phone wallpaper out of it so that you'll be more disciplined and motivated to work towards your goals .

Take your swords out it's time to fight get in the battlefield take the things which are yours and deserve to be yours this could be love related message too if you're looking for the confirmation this is the confirmation right here !

Be aware of your haters or envious people they could be eyeing on you feeling jealous of your achievements or of your aura in general they're feeling insecure because of your confidence but don't let that affect you you deserve to shine my lil sunflower! You've gained it .

Since you feeling lonely get out more do some funny activities. Go to arcane take some adventurous rides , wear those cute uniforms of princesses and superheros .

I know you're so powerful my buddy i know you can put your hand in the lion's mouth but why are so afraid to take small actions that can change your life and give it a new shape . See I know you can do it all you've all the material that you need so just grind more okay ? You've got this.

Deep down you know you can do it because you've done the impossible so many times before . Don't be like the rabbit . Be like tortoise slow but consistent efforts.

Don't hold on things as it'll hinder you from moving forward.

Initial: n,l,c,u,k

Randoms : 2002 , snail , joy , Peanut butter and jam\jelly ,yipeee, travelling ,leo,flowy dresses , crown , horse, pyramids , black hairs , polka dots , rabbit ,

moodboard :

Masterlist

Thankyou so much for letting me read for you .I'm very grateful that I'm able to share my abilities with you all . It's been a great experience.

We've also crossed 200 follows here which is again a moment of celebration ✨thank you so much for everything! .

Reading may or may not resonate with you since it's a general reading . Please take the reading lightly as nothing's set in stone until you believe so . If the reading doesn't resonate there were no messages for you through this reading ! 🤍🧚🏻

I'm grateful if you read the reading . Wishing you all the great week ahead and oh yeah merry Christmas and happy newyear ! ❄️

Posted on 12:12 pm🤭

[kiryoutann]

warning(s): MDNI. sexual contents, detailed description of violence, a man's way of thinking.

A voice in the back of his head began to whisper, telling him to let you go, to walk away before his teeth sank in too deep and caused you even more pain. Before he became too ensnared, too intertwined.

But he couldn't. He just couldn't.

Not when you're sensually rolling your hips on top of him, your jaw slack as those pretty, plump lips make sounds that cause his cock to twitch in his boxers. The sight of your puffy eyes, the soft curve of your lashes, and the furrowed brows. He groans as you grip his thighs, anchoring yourself to him.

The moans you let out—oh, love, what is this? Why does it feel holy when they're sinning? Like some kind of ablution. He is reborn. He is being sent to heaven, and it is between the plush of your thighs—the divine liquid dripping down your folds.

You drag your fingers across the raised tissue of his skin, and he is blessed. He observes as your eyes glide over every part of his body, recognizing the differences between the scars he bears—guessing how they were created. Fire, knives, hooks.

And fuck, angel.

That sickening clench clutches his chest again as he gazes upon your tear-streaked face. This perfect creature is mourning his scarred flesh, once burned and healed, textured. Your lips quivering as you sob.

What are you grieving for, pretty?

Probably thought he was some sort of good guy who didn't deserve this. So consumed by her turmoil, she forgot that every cut and burn meant he survived; he won and survived. Can't say the same about the other guy, though. Not that Simon would—no.

He's too selfish to share your attention.

Because what if mentioning others who died in his hands makes you pity them instead? Something a sweet thing like you would do.

“Why... why would anyone want to hurt you?” You ask, and Simon answers in his mind: Why wouldn’t they? “Is… is this from your time in the military too?”

“Yeah,”

“What happened?”

“Got meself ‘anged by the ribs once,”

Simon was given three primary roles: hunter, judge, and executioner, but you didn’t know this. Nor did you know that the bastards who had caused these scars had long since died in the slowest and most gruesome way possible. That house fire he told you about didn’t spare them like it spared him.

All of this was evidence that he had hurt and killed—a mortal sin, darlin'. But you let another fat tear slip, thin red roots spreading across your sclera.

Oh.

There was always the other side of the moon that Simon never realized until now, until you did. His God—you—are all-forgiving and shed tears because the other side of the story is that he has been hurt and almost killed. So far, Simon has only seen himself in three main roles: hunter, judge, and executioner. Never the other way around: prey, defendant, and victim.

And oh—oh.

The “God” on his pelvis rocked her hips, taking him to many pleasant places—places a sinner would never have the luxury of visiting. The burn inside him twisted into something different—something warm that pulsed in the chambers of his heart and spread and crawled across his chest.

This wasn't the old fury. So, Simon convinced himself this was lust.

The conclusion must have been made in a hurry, or more like in desperation to see past the truth. He tried to bury it in the depths of his mind where he wouldn't have to acknowledge it. But Simon knew lust shouldn't last this long, nor should it leave him feeling invigorated simply because you had smiled at him.

This was—

[part of chapter 11 of "A MAN'S HEART IS TRULY A WRETCHED, WRETCHED THING.".]

[1toreyouapart]

The Lies We Tell

***FANFIC THAT INVOLVES REAL PEOPLE. 18+ ONLY. MDNI. DO NOT READ IF YOU DON’T LIKE FANFIC THAT INVOLVES REAL PEOPLE***

Summary that tells you nothing: Sometimes everything you ever wanted has been right there, within reach, all along.

CW/TW: Angst, fluff, swearing, friends to lovers, jealousy, smut, fingering, PinV, pet names, friends with benefits, mental health (mention of a past attempt), more to come as I actually get things written out.

Masterlist

We Bend

Another shitty date. Another evening wasted. More money wasted. Because she just could not let these men pay for her meal. Groaning she kicked off her shoes, adjusting her skirt in the process. Another wasted skirt on a man that couldn't even get passed the first five minutes without talking to her like she was stupid. What the fuck was wrong with her? Literally nobody had been good enough. The bar was low, but goddamn. Why the fuck was she back home at 11pm and bored out of her skull?

Heaving a weary sigh she started up the stairs, smiling the instant she heard Noah yelling in his room. That sound was all she needed to know that she was home.

Curious she peeked her head inside his cracked bedroom door, smothering a snicker as he jumped and laughed with the friends he was online with. She couldn't help but watch him in his element. Everyone said that music was what made him who he was, but as she watched him now, wearing cat ear headphones, jamming out to some Bruno Mars, she couldn't help but fall for him just a little more.

On the tips of her toes she crept forward, clicking his bedroom door shut behind her. He only ever left it open if she wasn't back by a certain time, anyway. Surely he had to have heard the door close. He had to have. Instead he jumped when she came into view, pausing his game. Without a word she climbed into his lap, settling herself where she could bury her face in the crook of his neck.

"Something came up. Gotta run." He spoke into his headset, ripping it off. “Bad date?”

“Yeah. Total dickbag.” Quinn heaved a weary sigh. “The bar is so low at this point I would settle for somebody that at least looks at me when they’re talking to me.”

Noah shifted underneath her, his arms settling around her waist. Large hands rubbed her back in soothing circles, his breathing slowly changing to match her own. He had always done that. Mirrored her in some way. It was unsettling how easily he did it, sometimes. Like it was as natural as, well, breathing.

“Try raising the bar, babe. You deserve more than that.”

Quinn shrugged. At one point she had thought so, too. But as time went on she was starting to realize that may not be true. And that maybe she was the problem.

“Don’t shrug at me. I’m right and you know it.”

“You have to say that. You’re my best friend.”

Noah chuckled as he reached up and grabbed her head to lift it off his shoulder. She knew she was being impossible and should just take the compliment. But truthfully, her confidence had been shaken years ago and she never quite got it back. He held her face there, inches from his, forcing her to look at him. His dark eyes were soft and dancing with affection as he looked at her.

“That means I’m the most qualified to say that. I know you, flaws and all. From the way you refuse to use a stupid step stool to reach up high, to the fact that you know the entire choreography to Bad Romance.”

“Uh, Lady Gaga is an icon and I find it offensive that you don’t know it,” she retorted , quirking an eyebrow.

Noah laughed, thumb gently stroking her cheek, his eyes never leaving hers. Moments like this were the only ones where she felt seen. Like there was at least one person in the world that saw her for who she was and didn’t run away. Odd to think it came from a random night in a bar seven years ago.

“I also know that you’re a fucking psychopath that puts ketchup on their mac and cheese. And that you always stir your tea exactly three times clockwise, and then three more times counterclockwise. That you have a habit of leaving your bras fucking everywhere. And for some reason you put hot sauce on everything. I mean, ice cream, Quinn? I feel like normal people don’t do that.”

“Noah,” she warned. He was right, but goddamn. Did he have to be so mean about it?

“I digress. You’re also the funniest, kindest, sweetest, and most intelligent person I’ve ever met. I’ve watched you give your last dollar to someone in need. Watched you drop everything to help someone who was lost, or show up for a friend even when they didn’t show up for you. I’ve listened to you talk for hours about the ocean and all the new information coming out about previously unexplored places there.” He sighed, brows furrowing slightly as he spoke. “So, yeah. You deserve better. You deserve the world and somebody that’ll stop at nothing to give it to you. Not these little boys that you keep settling for. Raise your standards.”

Quinn froze, her breath trapped in her lungs. So that was how he saw her. As this kind person that did good things all the time. He had to know that she wasn’t a good person, though. Had to. She fucked up all the time. Took their petty arguments too far more often than not. And yet he was still sitting there looking at her like she was a saint. She didn’t know what to do. What to say.

Tags: @collisionofyourkissmakesitsohard @supersquirrel1996 @mrscevans

[klarolinexluv]

Four years ago. I used to hate this one ship. Like I would go out of my way to just speak that opinion and fuck everyone else right? I was 14.

A year or so past and I grew out of that a bit. I realised that I did like one of those characters in the ship but I still preferred the other ship that was much more popular and canonly didn’t end up together. (I mean the guy died so what do you do).

Anyway… so I was 15 and realised that my behaviour wasn’t the best so I changed. I realised that the character I didn’t like was actually a nice character. I grew to appreciate her more and I started editing her and the guy. The ship that I didn’t like. People thought I was crazy… I sort of laughed it off because yeah, I suppose I was a bit crazy for editing them but I quietly enjoyed doing it.

I was 16 and I shifted away from ships. I started posting more about my favourite character who canonically was a massive bitch do said character I thought I hated. I still made my opinion clear but I never judged anyone for liking something that I didn’t.

I was 17 and I stopped posting for that fandom. I got into Harry Potter and Drarry and the fandom I was surrounded by was a lot calmer. I didn’t see much passive aggressive or toxic behaviour between shippers and that made me feel safe. I realised that a weight had been lifted off my shoulders.

I was 17 and I joined the Marauders fandom. For a while it was much of the same. I was safe and I felt loved and I enjoyed it so much.

I’m 18. I still love the marauders fandom so fucking much. Everyone is so incredibly talented and so amazing and I cannot see myself ever abandoning this fandom.

I’m 18 and I got my first anonymous hate comment in my inbox. I was angry. I thought that I had moved on from getting hate for my opinion. I thought the marauders fandom was made up of a lot of mature and liked minded people. I was wrong.

I stuck to my guns. I shared my opinion even with the anonymous hate. I have an open mind. I understand where these haters were coming from. Hell, I even enjoyed the ship they were vouching for… it just so happened that I adored another ship more.

I’m a multi shipper. I always have been. I will try anything at least once and if I don’t like it, I’ll click off.

I would never leave a hate comment under someone’s hate and go off at them for shipping something that I don’t like. I’ve never done that. Even when I was 14 and hated this ship very publicly. I would never hate on someone’s art or edit or fic. I would just click away.

I will defend my favourite characters, my favourite ships until I physically cannot. I will not hate you for having a different opinion even if you hate on me first.

I have received death threats. I hope that no one ever experiences that feeling.

In conclusion, if you love something, that’s amazing. If you hate something, that’s cool too. If you hate on someone for loving something you hate, that’s not okay. Everyone deserves respect.

If someone loving something you hate makes you angry. I’m going to be so fucking for real, go outside, touch grass or taking a deep breath and scroll. Block tags. Block blogs/accounts.

Putting someone down is a form of bullying, repetitively or not. It’s bullying. Hating for no reason, I’ll go so far as to say that’s bullying.

You’re allowed to be angry, that’s your right. It’s not your right to hate one someone because of it.

Take it from someone who used to get angry for someone shipping something I hated.

I say from experience that it feels better to just let it go, to move on, to open ao3 and read the things you love, to open the tag you love and scroll through it. You’ll feel better, you’ll feel good.

I promise you. The best thing to do when you are angry is to turn away, focus your energy on something you love rather than something you hate.

I’m sorry to op for highjacking the post haha. My rant was rather inspired.

some of you cannot be the age you say you are because the way you react to fictional characters with such anger is jarring

[begrudging-fudanshi]

So i stared reading windbreaker after i saw your post about it , it's wholesome manga with amazing fights

in your opinion Why didn't nii satoru reveal Sakura's past until now ? Why was Sakura alone ?

Hell yeah. Welcome to the fandom. I'm glad my propaganda has been working.

To be honest, I've been thinking about this series way too much over the last couple weeks, so this is probably going to be A Lot. I am dumping a lot of accumulated thoughts in here and simultaneously trying to keep a bunch of other thoughts from cluttering it up. If any of this feels disjointed, it's because I've been trying (I swear) to not make this like 10,000 words long lmao.

(CW: Wind Breaker manga spoilers + discussion of child neglect, trauma, feelings of worthlessness, parental loss, grief, and a suicide attempt in the context of the series. Hope you're ready for some pain.)

I'm going to answer your questions in reverse order, because I think they're actually very closely connected.

Sadly, my read on Sakura's past is really dark. Based on what we know so far, there's a lot to suggest that Sakura has been badly neglected for a long time, both physically and emotionally. Based on his lifestyle and the way he talks about himself, I really struggle to believe that he's received any genuine affection or care in many years, if ever. (I'm so glad he was able to go to Furin.)

The flashbacks at the start of episode 1 of the anime suggest he was taken in by relatives who didn't want him, and I think they basically set him up for failure in every way. They seem to have done the bare minimum required of them by the law, like sending him to school, but I can see no evidence that they did much of anything else. Like, what kind of asshole sends a 15-year-old kid to live alone in a barren apartment with literally nothing to wear except his school uniform? Caring people wouldn't let a kid live like that. (That said, I have a bad feeling that his lifestyle seen in chapter 56 is an upgrade compared to what he had before.)

Given this, it's clear Sakura really means it when he says he's always done things by himself. I think this is why he looks so torn up when his friends show him real kindness and why he's so sensitive to anyone showing affection. I also think this means that he really wants to forget his past. This is a big part of why we haven't seen it revealed yet: Sakura isn't ready to revisit it, himself.

---

Something interesting about Wind Breaker's backstories is that they all (as far as I and my notes can remember) follow a consistent pattern. They're not just lore dumps that tell us about the character's past. They actually follow each character through a process of changing their beliefs about themselves, often based on their view of the past. This is why they're all in the first person. Some of these changes happen in the present while others are part of flashbacks, but either way the process is basically the same.

In each backstory, the character starts out believing something about themselves that gives rise to a contradiction that keeps them trapped. This belief somehow keeps them from living their best life and, often, stops them from changing their ways to make their best life possible. However, someone else helps them challenge that belief, giving rise to a revelation that lets them change how they see themselves. This change enables them to see new possibilities and lets them move forward towards the life they want.

For example:

Umemiya believed his parents would blame him for their deaths, so he couldn't let himself grieve them nor believe that he deserved to live. His guilt blocked out his memory of the event, keeping him from remembering what really happened. However, a nameless(?) Furin student and Shitara helped him realize that his parents saved him and were happy to see him survive. Thus, he was able to grieve and imagine a future for himself other than his self-destruction.

Kaji believed that his rage was uncontrollable and couldn't even see himself as human. Hiragi helped him realize that he could manage his triggers and change his behavior to be able to find acceptance and live his life.

Tsubaki believed that she couldn't like pretty things or express herself how she wanted. Ito and Yui helped her learn to dress up and present herself the way she liked, allowing her to accept herself and transition. (I know she's not canonically transgender but that's still the best way I can see to describe it.)

After Yui's death, Ito believed that she might never have truly loved him. Tsubaki, Sakura, Suo, and Nirei help him realize the secret meaning of the tree that she planted in his garden, letting him live his life without worrying if she was truly happy.

What's important here is that the character must be ready to have their beliefs about themselves challenged so they can understand their full truth. Otherwise, their story of their past would be incomplete. (Consider what Umemiya's backstory would have sounded like if he still believed he was a murderer.) In fact, we already have an example of this that I'll get to, next.

Because Sakura isn't yet in a position to challenge the beliefs holding him back, he can't reveal his past, either. He has friends helping him, but it's going to be a while before they've truly shaken his most unhelpful beliefs.

---

That said, this process has actually played out with Sakura once before and I think it tells us a lot. It shows us exactly why he's not ready to reveal his past.

In chapter 1, Sakura starts out believing that he's meant to always be alone, leading him to initially reject the people of Makochi. Then, Kotoha helps him acknowledge that he does want to be accepted and convinces him to give it a shot. However, while this is great progress and very necessary for Sakura's growth, this isn't a complete resolution. He still has an even more deep-seated belief that has to be addressed.

In addition to asserting that he's meant to be alone, Sakura also lays out another belief in chapter 1 that I argue really gets to the root of his deepest trauma. He doesn't quite say it explicitly, but it underpins both his belief that he's meant to be alone and that he's worth nothing but his fists.

The closest he comes to naming it is when he describes Furin. He says it's "The lowest of the low, hated by all others, worth nothing but their fists … It's a battle to determine the trashiest of the trash. That suits me perfectly."

I have to admit, the first few times I heard and read this, I completely missed how fucked up it is for a 15-year-old kid to say this about himself. I think I've gotten so used to taking shonen protagonists' confident declarations at face value that I just didn't question it, in the same way I've learned not to question, say, 12-year-old Gon deciding to become a pro hunter and travel the world fighting adults. The way it's presented very deliberately (and, I think, cleverly) blunts the impact as well, making use of shonen stylistic conventions to disguise it as stereotypical shonen protagonist bluster. This mirrors how Sakura masks his deeper feelings about himself.

However, as I read through the rest of the manga, it became clear that this is what Sakura actually, deeply believes. He's 15 years old and he truly sees himself as trash—in other words, worthless. The only way he can imagine finding worth in himself is through his strength. Even then, this is only for Sakura himself. He can't let himself imagine anyone else ever valuing him for any reason, so he must find self-worth all on his own. To put it more sharply, he can't imagine deserving unconditional love. Based on what little we do know about his past, this belief stems from a lifetime of emotional neglect.

The thing is, Sakura's belief that he's worthless is actually, paradoxically, a coping mechanism. As horrible as it is, it helps him rationalize his life in a way that lets him keep living despite his neglect and isolation. If he's truly worthless, then he's never had a reason to expect being loved or accepted by anyone—he's always been meant to be alone. This is how he can tell himself that he doesn't care and has given up. This lets him bury the pain of his isolation and pretend it doesn't truly hurt. By believing that he has always been worthless and unable to be (to deserve being) loved, he has had no reason to get his hopes up for the future, nor any reason to question why he's been treated so badly in the past. He can accept it (has to accept it), even if he hates it, because it was always inevitable.

Notice how Sakura reminds himself that he's given up right before punching the Spaltips' leader in chapter 1. This is the story he tells himself to contain the hurt. He does something similar in chapter 56, reminding himself that he's supposed to be alone as he grapples with his friends' kindness. He bludgeons himself with this reminder as a way to push away thoughts about his past. He then shifts his focus to thinking about his growing care for his friends rather than his feelings about himself. Once again, Sakura makes himself turn away.

The trouble is, this belief is his only means of holding back an unfathomable amount of pain inside of him. It's the only way he knows how to live with all the myriad ways he's been treated like shit. To doubt his own worthlessness, therefore, is to expose himself to overwhelming grief. Because, if he isn't worthless, he then has to ask himself why he had to suffer for so long. That kind of question is too awful for him—for pretty much anyone—to face on their own. This coping mechanism protects him, but it also traps him and prevents him from finding relief.

This comes to a head in chapter 1, as the townspeople surround him and the old woman tries to tend to his wound. As she reaches towards him, he screams at her to stay away. This act of genuine kindness fills him with terror. It's not just that he fears eventual rejection—Sakura fears the idea he could be accepted at all. Remember, he's just "failed" to win the fight and, worse, ended up having to be protected because he got hurt. Sakura could accept Kotoha's kindness earlier because he "earned" it by stopping her attackers, but now there's someone trying to help him for what feels like no reason. For Sakura, who must believe that he was never meant to be loved or accepted, being shown kindness for no apparent reason feels like an existential threat. It threatens to undermine the walls that he's built inside of him to keep going. This is why he allows Kotoha to help him instead—he can still rationalize her help as transactional.

This rationalization provides his means of escape. To accept his place in Makochi, he only has to accept that he doesn't have to be alone. He doesn't have to believe that he can be valued or loved unconditionally, nor that he deserved anything better. Instead, Sakura finds a way to "earn" his acceptance: The chapter culminates with Sakura accepting Bofurin, which he shows by leaping over all the others to kick the Spaltips' leader in the face.

By showing his strength, by upstaging the heroes and claiming his place among them, Sakura proves (to himself) that he is strong enough to be accepted. Rather than accept that he could always have been valued and accepted unconditionally—that he always could have been loved—Sakura would rather believe he's earned his acceptance based on his strength.

In this way, Sakura can continue to believe in his own worthlessness, saving himself from having to face his past. Because of this, even as he's learned that he can be accepted, he still maintained his belief that he was meant to be alone from the start (again, see chapter 56). This lets him continue to justify his past suffering and minimize his own pain.

This comes back around in chapter 162, when Sakura's classmates talk about his low self-esteem. Despite their efforts to show him that he's loved and valued, Sakura ultimately still believes he's only worth his strength. We see how he rejects Umemiya's praise, unable to understand how he could be praised when he "failed". Sakura can't believe he could be valued when he couldn't even single-handedly save the town.

But, as long as he believes this, his past will remain a mystery, not just to his friends and to us as readers, but even to Sakura himself. Just as Umemiya's repression kept him from realizing that his parents loved him, Sakura's repression keeps him from realizing that he has always deserved to be loved. He cannot acknowledge, can't even recognize, the pain he's endured in his life, because he still has to believe it didn't matter. Because of this, he can't let himself grieve or admit that he has always deserved better. He's still trapped believing he must always prove his worth through his strength alone.

Of course, changing this isn't going to be easy. He will get there. His friends will help him through it. Still, it's going to be rough. I think it'll be a while yet before he's ready to tell us about his past.

---

Addendum

All of that being said, something I really love about Wind Breaker is how hopeful it is and the way it shows Sakura living despite his past. To that end, I want to note one last thing: Sakura can still smile, despite everything else. No matter what he tells himself, he still feels hope.

I mentioned above that I didn't recognize Sakura's low self-esteem at first because it's masked with stereotypical shonen protagonist confidence. I think this is very deliberate by the author. We're supposed to see Sakura as cool, confident, and badass in the beginning, only to realize that he's also hurting inside. (Emphasis: that's also, not instead. These aren't mutually exclusive.) Sakura's cocky grin is part of a mask he wears, but it's not a lie.

While I believe Sakura has suffered a lot, it's important to emphasize that he's not broken or doomed to drown in grief. What I've laid out here is what I believe is going on beneath the surface, and I do believe he's going to have to face his trauma eventually, but let's not forget that our boy can still smile after all of that. The fact that he can smile doesn't mean that he's not hurting, but the fact that he's hurting doesn't mean he only feels pain. Let's not do him dirty by miring our view of him in grief. Instead, as we acknowledge how much he's suffered, let's also be happy at just how far he's come and hopeful for how far he'll go in the future.

[sallykie]

I think GOTNF somehow fell out of the Good Timeline and into this one.

[sysig]

I am not immune to any cutes - including Rick and Morty cutes, unfortunately (Patreon)

[valvesoftware]

breakups are so fucking weird. three years and just like that it's gone. huh

[foxgirlmoth]

The chronic pain has been so fucking bad lately

[brutalmasks]

currently thinking about how, since bunny mask's head / sort of by extension her neck ( yeahhh, i'd say that, because she is NOT immune to decapitation ) are basically her achilles heel in the way that they heal muchhh slower than the rest of her body does + there have even been times where she didn't heal properly at all in those areas... that most of the scars bunny has are concentrated around there.

thus, if your muse is intimate with her in any way, then they'll most certainly be seeing those on her skin and i just 😭 it kind of hits me RIGHT in the feels — and i say this because there has to be a lot of trust there for bunny to feel safe enough to expose what is literally the most vulnerable spot of her body to them, you know? so yeah. that is one surefire way of knowing that bunny mask trusts your muse with her life ❤️

[einaudis]

This is so scary and exciting at the same time.

[skitskatdacat63]

The hate nando is getting right now is lame. Even moresp when ppl are doing anti tags.

Aaaahh yeah it's really annoying :/ I've not seen too much hate on here, because I really try not to go looking for it bcs it makes me rly annoyed. And that's like, probably one of the only things that will get me to actually block someone(which I rarely ever do.) However, I do frequent reddit and there was some post abt his comments after the sprint and UGH the comments bothered me so much. Sometimes I'm tempted to look at the anti tags, but from what I've seen already, ik it's gonna piss me off. I already blocked some people yesterday bcs of it.

I've talked abt this a lot with people but. Ik rationally that there's some people out there who don't like him, and don't enjoy his antics. But it sucks to see people hate on the traits that you like best 😔 Like people saying "he's a really good driver BUT his off track antics ruin his career, and he should never win a race." And a lot of antis, it feels like they're always waiting for some tiny thing like this to validate their opinion that Fernando is genuinely a terrible person who doesn't deserve anything. People want drama, and then they hate it when he gives them drama 🙄 anyways I have a lot of thoughts on the comments he made, but idk if I should say on main haha, not that I really care. Also, people now calling him a terrorist for accidentally being at the scene of the crime for several crashes, when he's one of the cleanest drivers ever 😔 rude.

[pissfizz]

I don’t understand

[infizero]

i may get shot for this but personally i dont think theres really anything wrong with death note's female characters

[aspacewar]

I am,,, feeling so incredibly normal today, about my imaginary D&D dude and their train-wreck of a life

Sorry mutuals & followers I’m gonna be Worse than normal today I swear I’ll shut the fuck up soon

Need a separate blog for D&D shit honestly