#due to lowering my standards

[yugocar]

one of the best/most healing things about living alone was my weakness not being a disappointment/burden to anyone

[canisalbus]

About the accents: if someone has a very "proper" Italian they are either foreigners or politicians/dignitaries/etc. So that fits perfectly for Machete, but I think it would be so funny if he sometimes slipped up and used a Nepalese word bc he forgot one in "proper" Italian lol

(Funny to me cause Naples has its own language in addition to accent, and most people don't actually know those words)

.

[dravidious]

I spent the past 2 days fighting through one of the most dumb stupid and bullshit technical difficulties of my entire computer science career, and it took so long to resolve that I'm fucking OVERJOYED that the code that I copied is finally actually working the way it was supposed to work from the start

[inkskinned]

what is with men being mad any time a woman raises her voice where did that even come from. someone posted a video of a small electrical explosion, and the top comment was of course the woman screams. the second comment is women try not to scream challenge, level impossible. i had to go back and watch the video again. there is, somewhat fainty, a little gasp emitted off-camera, more of a yelp than a scream. it is mostly lost in the crack of the explosion. afterwards, you hear her voice, shaken, say, are you okay?

i am helping one of my friends train her voice pitch lower, because she wants to be taken seriously at work. she and i do each other's nails and talk about gender roles; and how - due to our appearance - neither of us have ever been able to be "hysterical" in public. we both appear young and sweet and feminine. she is cisgender, and cannot use her natural voice in her profession because people keep saying she appears to be "vapid". we both try to figure out if our purposeful voice lowering is technically sexist. is it promoting something when you are a victim to it?

a storm almost sends a pole through a car window. in the dashcam, you can hear the woman passenger say her partner's name twice, crying out in alarm. she sounds terrified. in the comments, she is lambasted for her lack of calm. how is that even fucking helping?

in high school, i taught myself to have a lower voice. i had been recorded when i was genuinely (and righteously) upset; and i hated how my voice sounded on the phone speakers when it was played back. i was defending my mom, and my voice cracked with emotion. it meant i was no longer winning the argument: i was just shrieking about it.

girls meet each other after a long summer and let out a little joyful scream. this usually stops around 12-14, because people will not tolerate this display of affection (as it has the effect of being passingly annoying). something about the fact that little girls can't ever even be annoying. we are trained to examine each part of our lives (even joy) for anything that could make us upsetting and disgusting. they act like teenage girls are breaking into houses and shrieking you awake at 3 in the morning. speaking as a public school educator: trust me, it's not that bad, you can just roll your eyes and move on. it does not compare to the ways boys end up being annoying: slurs in graffiti, purposefully mocking your body, following you after you said no. you know, just boy things.

there's another video of a man who is not allowed to yell in the house, so he snaps his fingers when he's excited about soccer. the comments are full of angry men, talking about how their brother is unfairly caged. let him express himself and this is terrible to do to someone. eventually the couple has to address it in a second video: they are married with a newborn baby. he was trying not to wake the infant up. there is no comment on the fact women are not allowed to yell indoors. or the fact that it could have been really alarming or triggering for his wife. sometimes i wonder if straight men even like women, if they even enjoy being in relationships with them.

for the longest time, i hated roller coasters because it always felt inappropriate and uncomfortable for me to scream. one of my friends called me on it, said it was unusual i'm so unwilling. i had to go to my therapist about it. i don't like to scream because i was not raised in a safe situation, and raising my voice would have brought unsafe attention towards me. even when i am supposed to scream, it feels shameful, guilty. i was not treated kindly, so i lack a basic form of self-protection. this is not a natural response. it is not good that in a situation of high adrenaline - i shut up about it.

something very bad is happening, i think. in between all the beauty standards and the stuff i've already discussed - this one feels new and cruel in a way i can't quite express. yes, it's scary and silencing. but there's something about how direct it is - that so many men agree with the sentiment that women should never yell, even in an emergency - it feels different.

is the word shriek gendered automatically? how about shrill or screech? in self defense class, one of the first things they tell you is to yell, as loud and as shrilly as you can. they say it will feel rude. most women will not do this. you need to practice overcoming the social pressure and just scream.

most women do not cry out, even when it's bad. we do not report it. we walk faster. we do not make a scene. what would be the point of doing anything else? no matter what we do, we don't get taken seriously. it is a joke to them. an instagram caption punchline. we have to present ourselves as silent, beautiful, captivating - "valuable."

a woman is outside watching her kids when someone throws a firecracker at them. she screams and runs towards her children. in the comments, grown men flock together in the thousands: god. women are so annoying.

[pangur-and-grim]

Do you have any advice on finding ethical cat breeders? I've only ever adopted, but I'm hoping to get hairless (or slightly haired) breed in the future due to my partner's allergies.

oh sure, here's what sold me on the breeder I'm currently wait-listed for:

she lists the 40+ health tests her animals have gone through, and has the results uploaded onto her website

each cat has their coefficient of inbreeding visible

it's not a kitten factory. there are set times of year when breeding occurs (in this case, spring and fall)

breeding animals have short careers and then are retired, to avoid strain on their bodies, and allow them to live as pets

she attends cat shows to ensure her animals are meeting breed standards

there are rarely any kittens 'for sale', as most sales are done through a waitlist. this means that even before being born, most of the kittens she produces already have waiting homes.

she requires buyers to sign a contract saying that this will be an indoor cat, and that there will be no declawing

also in the contract: if for whatever reason you can no longer care for your cat, she will take it back and find a home for it.

doesn't breed for any unethical traits (extreme brachycephaly, manx tails, folded ears, lykoi fur mutation, munchkin legs, etc.)

doesn't make outlandish claims - anyone who breeds lower allergen cats should be forthright about the fact that no cat will truly be hypoallergenic, only less allergenic

requires the cat to have a feline companion if it is of a more social breed (oriental, siamese, devon rex, etc)

has a 2 year congenital health guarantee

there's probably more, but that's off the top of my head!

EDIT: as for your particular situation, aim for breeds that produce less of the protein in their saliva that triggers allergies. Devon Rexes (the breed I'm getting) are a double whammy in this regard, as they produce less of the protein, and shed less fur into their environment.

[mysicklove]

cw: sub! gojo, heavy edging and then heavy overstimulation, hand job, crying, lots of crying and withering, gojo being cute bc i love him

wc: 1.1k

a/n: wrote this in like 30 mins. good for me. and techically by my standards this is a fic, not a drabble bc its more than 1k. wooooah

"Make it stop!" Gojo yelps, throwing his head back against the headboard, heaving as sweat drips down his temple. His lower half was naked, and he was wearing just a simple white t-shirt, now slightly sticking to his chest from the heat.

You pull back your hand, admiring the globs of precum on it. You bring it to your mouth, kitten licking it and groaning. "You really need to eat better Satoru. Taste so bad."

"Please," He breathes, eyes lidded and watery. You take another glance at his groin, his cock weeping against his stomach. It's flushed red, dripping pathetically, but other than that, cute.

He has been just one stroke from reaching his high a total of five times now. His body has grown tired, slumped against the headboard, and twitching occasionally.

You watch his hand grab your wrists, and you raise your eyebrows, intrigued by the action. He doesn't say anything, aware of your gaze but choosing to ignore it as he cups your hand into a makeshift hole and brings it back to his cock.

You chuckle at him, letting him do what he wants for a moment. He bucks his hips up into it, eyes slightly rolling back from the feeling. It glides down without much trouble, his precum from earlier lubing his entire length, and making a lewd sort of squelching noise.

He doesn't say anything because he knows he's moments from cumming. In fact, he doesn't even make eyecontact with you, trying to almost sneak by.

It was cute, pathetic and stupid, but cute. You pull your hand away when you see his body begin to curl over.

His mouth hangs open in a broken gasp and his hands twitch. He buries them into the sheets before he gets the idea of trying to touch himself. "Y-Y'know I love you, but I fucking hate you right now," He murmurs, blue eyes peering into yours with a wobbly grin.

You laugh at him, not suprised, and ruffle his already messy hair affectionately. Then you maneuver yourself onto his lap, straddling him. He peers up at you, slightly confused, but you just hum, pressing a soft kiss to his lips. His dick twitches at the attention, and he pants into your mouth.

Your soft hand comes back down to his cock, stroking the head a couple of time, watching the way his whole body seems to jerk and the breathy gasp he lets out. Suddenly, your pace is merciless, jerking him quickly and with full force. His eyes widen and his back slightly arches, his fingers digging into the sheets as he tries to process the intense sensation.

"Oh fuck. I'm gonna cum. F-Fuck! I'm cumming, I'm cumming, dont stop please!" He pleads, throwing his head back with a high-pitched, almost feminine moan. He stays true to his word, cum shoots out onto your hand and his stomach. You watch as your lovers abdomen contracts, and the way his whole body trembles under the force of the orgasm. It was an intense one, probably due to how many times he was edged.

Your hands dont stop moving through it all, and his body begins to jerk with the stinging sensation of overstimulation. "'m done," he whispers, hand reaching over to pull yours away.

You slap him away, continuing at the same pace, and he turns to you with frantic eyes, processing the situation. "N-No. No. No. No! I cant!" He pleads, tears welling up in his eyes as the sensation gets more and more painful.

You kiss away the first tear with a soft smile. "Yes you can! Cmon Satoru, all you wanted earlier was to cum. You can do it again!" You tease, kissing his neck when he looks up to the ceiling and begins to cry.

His whole body withers under you, jerking sporatically to escape your hand, and he begins to laugh. Its a mix of a giggle and a cry, sort of like someone was tickling him. He always did this when you overstimulated him, and it was always so endearing to watch. "S-Stop. Hurts. Hah! Oh fuck!"

You are stuggling to stay on top of him, his hips moving from side to side are threatening to knock you over. But you ground your knees into the sheets and use both hands to jerk him off. Wet squelching noises fill the air, mixed with his cries and helpless laughs.

But through it all, you just admire him. His pretty body that twitches and tries to escape your hold, his wet eyes that make the light blue color even brighter, the tear stained cheeks that are the prettiest red color. Everything about him was so pretty.

"I'm going to cum. No. Oh god! Too much. It's too sensitive! Im cumming. Im cumming again!" He rambles, unable to think coherent thoughts. The words just come spewling out of him, his head spinning.

Cum oozes from the tip, more pathetically this time, and he orgasms with a sob. His whole body seems to curl into himself, withering and trying to make himself as small as possible. The top of his head accidentally knocks into your chin, and you laugh, while he cries into your chest.

Your hands jerk him through it all, and the second he feels you going even a second longer after his high was over, his nails dig into your back and he pleads, "No more. Please, I'm begging. No more."

You obey his command, and let go of his cock, watching it fall back onto his stomach. You reach to grab the washcloth, wiping your hands and his stomach off. "Well that was fun."

"Fun?" He screeches dramatically, pulling himself away from your chest and using the back of arm to wipe away the excess tears. "You almost killed me!"

He goes under the sheets, pulling the blankets up to his neck with a pout. "Little dramatic much?"

"I'm not talking to you for the rest of the day," He threatens, falling limp against the pillow and staring at the ceiling.

"Alright."

A couple of minutes go by, and you hum to yourself, preparing for sleep. You listen to the sounds of Gojo tossing and turning in bed, glancing at him with amusement.

He turns to you, and narrows his eyes at you. "Do you think I can cum three times in a row?"

You pick up the lube. "You wanna find out?"

His smile falls in an instant, and he is waving his hands in front of his face. "Nope. Actually goodnight. I love you, dearest!"

You bark a laugh, and set the lube down, crawling into bed next to him. "Yeah, yeah, love you too, you kinky bastard."

"Hey!"

[kooyabooya]

SECRETS & SPELLS

m reader x kazuha ; sakura // 14k words

“Really,” and you’re saying this with the most unimpressed look on your face, knowing Sakura’s bullshit could never get to you that easily, “And here I thought we had something special going on between us,” you tell her with a gesture of a hand, signifying the rapport. 

She laughs at that, because deep down you’ll put up with her antics in the end either way. Whether it would be spilling a few drinks down her throat or splitting her open until the crack of dawn breaks into the horizon, you’ll get the last say before she does. Always. 

“Do tell,” says Sakura, “Besides, you’ve got my number on speed dial.” 

-

It’s actually a pretty funny thing how the sacred law of attraction works in these kinds of scenarios; at least, that’s what you’ve learned when Sakura barged into your life from completely out of nowhere. This might come off as unexpected: you’re the TA for one of the design courses, and Sakura happened to be one of the top students in the class with the highest probability to break through into the fashion industry come post-grad. 

And at every turn since the beginning of the semester, she has managed to impress you amazingly. 

Everything’s all lighthearted at the first meeting - the usual buzz about this stellar connection you have with Sakura - and she feels the same sentiment. The feedback is subtle; the compliments start to pile on one another; you’re noticing features in her appearance that might be falling into the obvious scope of things, but you take note of them either way. 

Wasn’t that long until you’ve mustered up the courage to treat her out after she came to you for additional advice and pointers and such from one of her personal projects. Although the first date was an absolute train wreck to your standards, she was willing enough to come back around for more. 

One meeting happens again, and another. 

Then the next one. 

And the next one. 

The weeks start to mesh together aside from all the usual routines and responsibilities filling up your schedule and calendar. But you’ve managed to set time aside whenever possible because that’s all part of having fun with someone like her. And sure, you’re waiting for that Friday to hit every time because it relieves you of anything for a short period; it’s also safe to say that you’re not the only one. 

So you learn a lot of things about Sakura. More ways than you would like. 

And it’s not even worth blaming the lowered inhibitions due to the alcohol.  A test drive of sorts, the natural course of thoughts coming out from your brain and channeling that to your words and actions whenever you’re around her, there’s that appreciation in the honesty - wondering where has this girl been all your life?

Because Sakura falls in a lot of ways. Ways that you would never have expected:

“For one thing,” you’re telling her while being roped deeper into the club by her hand, “I don’t think the number 1-800-hot-n-fun was a viable one to go with, by the way.” She twists her head around once getting past the foyer, opening up from the inside to scattered crowds spaced away from the dance floor. As expected for a Friday night to no surprise -  the thrumming of your eardrums in response to the overpowering bass proving a clear struggle in terms of discernibility. 

“Do I have to remind you again?” Sakura tells you, loosening the grip as you’ve managed to get in close proximity, unfazed when your body is practically on top of hers, passing through the crowd, “We’re doing that thing with Miss ‘you - know - who’. Unless you’re asking me to just leave your ass back in the apartment, but oh wait - you're already here with me as it is.” 

“Sure.” And that’s how things like these usually go with her: you’ll be doing one thing, then the familiar contact on your phone pops up on your lockscreen. Some days you’d drop whatever you were doing in a heartbeat - if it was willing to kill time or procrastinate, she’d know your answer already. “Drop the code name. You’re not being really inconspicuous with-” 

“Kazuha? But it fits the profile perfectly!” She’s beaming, exchanging a few glances with some regulars hovering outside the dance floor, her face lighting up with wide eyes andan open an open mouth.

“But seriously,” you say, and with as much sarcasm that you could pull out of your ass, “I thought that was a one-time thing with her.” Sakura rolls her eyes, spearheading to one of the booths on the far end of the dance floor, secluded in a suspicious corner where no one else would end up unless being escorted off with enough shots in their system to do so in the first place. 

And you learn - with Sakura, nothing is ever a one time thing with her. Ever. She brought you into a trap, the kind where you couldn’t even get out of if you tried. 

Like all necessary cues for an entrance, this one doesn’t really have a notable introduction since you’re the one that’s interested without actually saying it explicitly. The lone girl sitting in the booth catches your eye, spacing out with the colorful floating lights occasionally hitting her face as she appears to be breaking a sweat despite her stoic expression. 

She looks nervous, probably flustered at the fact that she’s even in the dance club considering how flushed her face looks without the color. You look over to Sakura, to which she smiles with her eyes, already feeling the stage being set for what’s to come.

“You sure you want to leave this as a one - off?” She asks, combing down some of her hair while waving at the girl in the booth. “Think of this as a chance to redeem yourself with her - her - I mean, me.” 

“Not everything has to be about you. Acting as the lynchpin when you also want to join in on the fun as well.” 

Sakura nicks her head, that prying grin coming at the corner where you can’t see it up front. She studies your features, the way your face crinkles at every remark or sly comeback that leaves her lips, priming those synapses ready and raring for how she wants this night to go. “That’s exactly what’s going to happen. It worked last time, and it’ll work again.” 

With all thoughts considered, it all leads to one inevitable conclusion: 

“I’d love for you to work her over again, like you did before,” she husks, lazily placing her lips along the line of your jaw. The nerve ends down your neck and spine tingling at the contact as your feet move along with hers, approaching closer to the lone girl waiting at the table, locking irises and noticing her pulled lip. “And just for your information, she’s so into you.” 

“Are you sure it’s not the other way around with him?” Kazuha butts in, sliding over a subtle appetizer of some casual chips and assorted dips; the duo of Arnold Palmers is also quick to follow soon after. “I mean, you’re the one who likes to kiss everybody, Sakura.” 

“Not true,” she rebukes. “But I-” 

“If you want to test that theory,” you’re telling the both of them, smiling with eyes trained alternating on looks, sipping a bit of the beverage down, “I think both of you would be convinced to take this somewhere that allows more misbehavior to happen.” 

-

It’s not that you’re not able to remember the events of last night. It’s the fact that you can’t remember what took place last night at all. 

Though your memory starts to stir back to normal at the floating pair of lips hovering over and around your face in the late morning going into the afternoon.

You’re squinting from the overbearing light that breaks through the curtains and and the ambient sounds of traffic in the distance from the open window. There’s also the realization that the mobility in your body is severely hammered, and with good reason. 

A look up past the sheets, and it’s a body pressed next to yours, sprawled with an arm and leg thrown over your thigh and stomach, still trying to be mindful in care not to wake you. She looks up at you with doe eyes before fluttering them shut and nestling deeper into the side of your chest, rubbing her hand across the more she gets comfortable. 

“About time you woke up,” she mumbles, giggling at you, plopping your head back onto the pillow. “I was wondering if you were actually dead or something, not that I would be worried of course.” 

“And if I was?” The question alone is alone is rhetorical as it sounds, blinking up towards the ceiling while adjusting your body meshed into the mattress and in between the sheets, “I feel like you could’ve put in a little more effort to, well, bring me back to life.” 

This girl then sits up, lets the comforter trickle down to her waist, exposing her breasts; the marks still apparent from the night prior, serving to be a good kickstarter for your memory now that most of the alcohol should’ve subsided by now. “Maybe I should’ve put more effort into that, the same way that you handled us,” she tells you, “God, you really don’t remember anything from last night, do you?” 

“Sakura,” you say, and you’re calling her out with a soft laugh bubbling beneath your stomach.. “I’d hate to be honest with you, but I can’t even remember the amount of drinks we had at the place. That’s how you know it’s bad if you were in my shoes.” 

“But you were still sober enough to dick me down after a long week?” 

You don’t give an answer to Sakura’s question, but the way her actions do the talking should already say enough: placing kisses on your shoulder, shuffling herself closer to you, hand slithering to a certain spot where it’s also jogging your memory. 

“Sweetie,” you tell her, a dragged - out sigh leaving your lips once Sakura’s practiced fingers start to touch down around your half-hardened cock. “You wouldn’t mind helping me remember what we did last night, right?” 

Well, of course, she’d say, but instead she laces that phrase in the form of a kiss. Knowing her, she’d be willing to assist in whatever it is that you do. A transactional service: you do one thing for her and she’d do the same. And the repayment could really come in a handful of methods, but this one usually takes top of the list. 

“I don’t,” Sakura answers, giggling softly when you’re trying to push for more, leaning your head to meet her lips, her pulling away just to play a little tease. “As much as I would love to help you, I can’t be the only one to do all the work around here. It tarnishes your gentlemanly appearance, but that’s what I think.” 

You pull one of her legs up, shifting her closer to you when she has her lips working you again, hand twisting deliberately around your cock. The pace alone is strategic and slow, but very well practiced and methodical, licking up her palm to ensure she’s soaking up the sensitive surface in every spot possible. 

She also takes the hint with the sliding hand up her waist, straddling over your thighs to where you’re almost pinned against the headboard, grip still apparent around your shaft, keeping steady the more she scooches her hips up beneath your groin. You get lost in the valley of her waist, the defined abs well deserved from the hard work in the gym, the gaze she possesses with those lovely, messy locks in her hair, the pure seductiveness with her hand grazing her breast. You’re being pulled back in with another intoxicating kiss, filled with so much care and and love, and all of that to be replaced with undesirable lust that seems to entrap both of you like the heavenly light breaking through the thin curtains in your room. 

The taste, the scent of her - still present from last night’s tales - are another reminder and trick for your mind to work around against the lingering after effects of the alcohol. 

“Is it working?” She asks, holding herself just above your length with hands fast around your neck, “Or do you still need some help getting your memory up to speed?” 

Sakura then reaches over to the nightstand, a Polaroid captured in between her pointer and middle finger, eyes slanted along with her face, watching you examine the picture in the small snapshot. Another fragment is obtained through this, internalizing the appearance of her marked - up body sprawled up on the same bed you’re lying in, with another body next to her but the face isn’t shown. 

Just as you’re about to say your answer, she catches you by surprise, the press of her lips on you again, hips jumping up in impulse when her pussy settles on top of the underside of your shaft, hands naturally trained to her hips as the slow pecks eventually become more inviting, passionate. 

Maybe the home remedies would’ve been a sufficient option to cure your hangover, but with Sakura, she herself is the best kind of morning after pill that you’ll take the chance over if the opportunity presents itself like it has right now. Her kisses become more intoxicating, hoping that you’ll want her in the same fashion that she’s emitting - a being that’s blessed with a wanting so addicting, it’s impossible to think twice about it. Your mouth makes its way down the fine column of her throat and then to her chest, marking up the same spots as you did the night before, tugging onto one of her stiff nipples with your teeth. 

The grip in your hair with her fingers starts to become tighter, forcing her body onto you more. She holds you there, cheek pressed to the crown of your head, the moans proving to be positive feedback for you, grinding her hips slightly over your cock, making your grasp more protective of her, as if you didn’t want her to leave your presence whatsoever. 

She captures your lips again, hands now on both ends of your face, humming in approval when yours find their way to her ass, clawing your fingertips on the soft skin, setting the tempo of how her pussy lips glide across your cock, bathing it in her slick, and a small feeling of what’s to come in the passing minutes. Her teeth clash with yours on accident, laughing as she scaffolds her kisses down to your cheek, to the pulsepoint, on your trap, biting lightly as a proud badge of honor. Pulling away, she bites her lip, placing another kiss before pressing you back to the wall. 

“Saku,” you sputter, gasping out when her hips slide forward, pressing herself down on your cock that tenses all of the muscles in your legs, straightening them out beneath the sheets for a moment. “Fuck, you–” 

“Shh,” she says, finger on your lips.. “It’s helping a lot, right?” Her hand sliding down your chest, nails grazing across your skin riddled with goosebumps, probably because of how cold the room has gotten but at the same time how the heat between your two continues to build up. “I gave you two hints already, so do what you will with that.” 

“I think it is coming together,” you say, puppy dog eyes in amazement with how Sakura keeps your chin tilted up while the movement of her hips hypnotizes you. “But seriously, holy fuck, I-” 

Sakura pays no attention to your spills of cutoff praise, a moan from her lips and yours let out in unison when she rubs her clit right at the tip, hunching her back over, your face getting caught between the figurative net that is her tits, drawing another mark with your teeth and soothing it after with the flat plane of your tongue. 

If she’s not careful, this right amount of pressure from her pussy over your aching cock might spell disaster for you before even getting started with resuming last night's activities. Her body is already becoming a live wire to feed off on; the taste and how responsive she’s been so far, you’ll play into it for as long as she allows it. 

Luckily, she knows your body well enough as hers, stopping herself as she scooches down. The trail of kisses coming back with the first couple scattering their way down from your lips, cheeks, and neck, now down to the chest. Every touch of her lips across the canvas of your body only sends your mind deeper into that endless barrel of delusion and madness from the fantasies you’ve discovered with Sakura. 

It might also be worth mentioning how she substituted her pussy for her hand again, dainty fingers well placed around your shaft again, pulling it upwards as she buries herself beneath the sheets, lips now planting kisses at the hip and down to the thigh, then turning her attention to your twitching cock. 

You could feel the muscles in your ass clench underneath her body, watching with the comforter raised up to hide her from the open doorway, focused on how her breath grazes along your underside, carefully working her way up to place a chaste kiss to your tip, her tongue getting the first tastes of her favorite snack, swallowing the head first. 

She then inches down a bit, pulling herself up and out, tongue swirling and well trained. The feeling settles in static breaths, watching her be grateful for the reward she’s worked hard for in the short span of time. Her head lowers for another second, you lift your hips up to meet in the middle for her, and she stares at you with glossy eyes. 

The comforter gets lowered as your hands find themselves onon Sakura’s wrists. 

“Saku,” you groan automatically. Sakura’s eyes flutter in approval when she slides her puckered lips further down your length. The tiny press of her perfect lips, her tongue again slathering up the underside again, tracing a vein. 

Her hand finds itself at the base, building up a rhythm in her bobs that you’re all too familiar with. Tongue and the opening past her mouth and into the throat, moving in every move imaginable that she knows that you love and like. 

And it’s also this double-edged sword - a blessing or curse on her terms, how the vibrations coming from her vocal cords wrap around your cock whilst in her mouth, letting you know how ravishing you are for her cravings. 

“Keep the comforter over me.” Sakura commands, purring. Mixing in the swiping of her tongue as well as the erotic kisses she’s spoiling your cock with. Her head goes sideways, treating to one side of the base, dipping down to take one of your balls in her mouth. She’s also aware of how much you like your blowjobs to be wet, so it’s no surprise when she spits all over your cock, ensuring that no spot was left untouched with her saliva. 

You do as she says, letting your hands rest beneath the sheets along with Sakura; the view of the room now opened up past the obstruction, watching as the small bump between your legs indicated Sakura’s head, slowly feeling her head working her way down your cock, gasping when you feel the tip of her nose meet your stomach. 

She laughs with a mouthful of cock in her mouth still when she hears the sound of the back of your head hitting the wall, gripping the fuck out of her wrist on your leg to let her know that she’s doing wonders - in addition to the tension in your hips, bucking as she’s putting enough effort to take all of you down her throat, shifting her head side by side with the small chokes minimized with the comforter over her. 

The pace comes back, but this time with more variety. A hand is wrapped around your shaft, holding it in one spot while her mouth takes you right at the half, gagging as the suction deepens. She’s managed to have your cock slicked up enough to where her fingers are easy to swivel around, doubling down on the stimulation. 

Sakura isn’t one to really be forward when it comes to 'relieving your stress’, but with the amount of practice that she’s had from past experiences,, that thread of thoughts continues to open different avenues to sit on a balcony and ponder on. Earlier this week she felt compelled to have you bust all over her face because of how hot you looked while doing a virtual meeting on the couch; you’re picturing the image in your head - how she looks so good with your lips on you, so practiced, mouth pressuring all the right spots and tongue slicing through a vein and maybe lower. 

“Baby, baby, holy shit,” you’re moaning out again, getting a response from Sakura’s filled-up mouth, picturing the furrowed eyebrows and half-lidded eyes beneath the sheets. She moves your hands up from her wrists and into her hair, prompting you to shove the best inches down into her throat, much to the point where you’re nearly sitting upright to do so. 

This isn’t something to think too hard about: thrusting your hips into Sakura’s face in the morning - into that sweet heat of her mouth, how her nails are creating crevices in your skin, relaxing her mouth and throat enough to stuff nearly all of your length to that one hole of hers. You know that she could go on with this for as long as you’d like, instinctively helping her part a few stray fringes in her hair without even being able to see it. She’s sometimes worried if you’re hurting yourself with every deepthroat she does to you, assuring that having no gag reflex makes these bits in the whole experience a whole lot more pleasurable. 

“Mmph.” 

“This fucking mouth of yours, Saku,” you mumble, not paying any care to the increased volume of gags or the purring vibration of her open mouth creating this vacuum within your stomach - since the addicting suction and clench were about to send you into oblivion. 

“Mmmmph…” 

“God,“ you choke out. One thing you don’t want to accept to yourself or to anyone, for that matter: this was the best fucking way to wake up. 

“So fucking good,” she mumbles.

Another thing you’d hate to admit sometimes is the fact that even though you've been restricted from seeing Sakura take in your cock so well underneath the sheets, that’s traded in for how fast you could feel yourself coming undone again. That sense of pride also put you in jeopardy because every lick, plunge, and slip of your length into her mouth was another step in the pattern in transition to holding herself steady. It also doesn’t help that she tilts her head up, poking the head of your cock on the inside of her cheek, swiping the tongue at the underside, and seriously, this woman. 

The eerie ringing between your ears starts to pop up randomly, your body getting riddled with every overstimulating feeling being thrown right at it. The slickness in her mouth, the grip around the root becoming too tight, the gags becoming intense - your mouth is hanging low as your eyes begin to roll up to the back of your head. She doesn’t plan on playing it safe, and the edge is rapidly getting to you; it’s too fast, too soon, okay, oh fuck, oh fuck. 

“Saki!” a voice calls out past the open door leading into the hallway. “Where the fuck are you?” Shit, the tone sounds awfully familiar, and you also notice the trail of clothes along the floor. Another fragment from last night flashes in your brain; though, you’re trying to keep focus while Sakura’s heat surrounds your cock as you hear the sound of feet scraping along the hardwood floor. 

“Saki, I-” The second girl stops short past the door, phone in her hand and hair tousled, but still presentable. She’s wearing your dress shirt from the night before, unbuttoned and parted perfectly enough to where you could see the inner curve of her tits - her long, creamy thighs stand out to you, making your lowered jaw salivate when she cocks her head to the right out of curiosity, hands behind her back with her tongue buried behind her bottom lip. “Well, what do we have here?” 

How could you forget? The additional set of clothes on the floor? The lady next to Sakura’s ruined body covered with cum on the Polaroid photo?

Kazuha. Who else but Kazuha? 

“Good morning,” you greet, paying no attention to your hands as they appear to be all over the place before settling themselves above the sheets, just adjacent to the subtle bump where Sakura’s bobbing head was located. “I was wondering where you went off to.” 

“I couldn’t really sleep, so I thought it would be a good idea to whip up some food to kill time,” says Kazuha, biting her lip at the sight of your hand resting above the oddly shaped form between your legs and underneath the sheets. “You wouldn’t mind if I asked: Where the heck is Saki?” 

“Well,” you try to say, pretending to be oblivious while the heat of Sakura’s mouth trails your mind off into dreamland. “I’ll give it to you straight; she’s not here.” 

“Uh huh,” Kazuha breathes, unamused. “Really though, where did she go?” She asks, raising herself up on her tiptoes, slowly migrating closer to the edge of the mattress, noticing the heels hanging out of the edge. “I could’ve sworn she was next to you when I woke up.” 

“She was,” you reply, keeping that sly smile from breaking out in the frame of your face. “I don’t know if you checked the bathroom if she’s there, but that’s one place to start looking if you ask me.” 

Kazuha pays no attention to your answer, only keeping her eyes fixed on the pair of feet at the edge of the matter, palming an area for what appears to be Sakura’s calf, which makes her stop her controlled bobbing around your cock for a moment, stunned at the sudden press of Kazuha’s hand pulling her head back off of your soaked shaft, gulping because she knows that she got caught. 

A look under the sheets, and Kazuha laughs, locking eyes with you while the offering of a sheepish grin is all that you could give her. “Really?” she asks, examining beneath the white layer to only see Sakura laying on her stomach, bare ass between your legs while you eventually call the act off, lifting off the sheets to give Kazuha a better look at Sakura’s head buried between your thighs, hand still well gripped into the threads of her hair. “If you guys are going to start the fun without me, then don’t even bother hiding it.” 

“We weren't hiding anything at all,” teases Sakura, dipping her head down your cock again that makes you clench at the feeling of her throat. 

“Pretty much seems that way to me.” Kazuha retorts. 

“Who was the one who woke up early again?” 

“Don’t I have a say in this?” You inquire, combing Sakura’s messy hair down while she moves her wrist around your length to occupy herself, causing you to shudder at the delicate touch. “I mean, Jesus, I guess Saku here couldn’t really help herself to me.” 

“She’s the worst.” Kazuha declares, slipping out of your dress shirt, now left with nothing but those lacy black pants she slipped on. 

“He worked you over; let me remind you,” Sakura replies, bearing a smug grin when she looks over towards you. “You finished on her back, and before that, you finished on me twice.” 

The corner of your eye picks up on Kazuha getting back on the bed, shuffling with her knees as she approaches closer to you. You remember again that she’s relatively well known in your circle of friends, considering the fact that she’s one of the four girls that you’re relatively affiliated with around campus. She’s only a year younger than you, but good friends with Sakura (obviously); and there’s also the duo of Chaewon and Yunjin, the pair of them also crazy in their own rights, respectively. 

“Your point being?” The question gets both of their attention, exchanging looks when Kazuha finally reaches to you, guiding your hand to her waist and around her back, Sakura placing neat kisses across your obliques, cock still welded to her hand and stroking gently. 

“I guess the golden question should be asked again,” says Sakura, bending her neck down to lightly tap the tip of your cock to her pouty lips. “Where do you think you’ll finish today? On our face? Down our throats? Our backs? Or maybe…”

“Maybe…” Kazuha teases, lifting her hands with yours up to her face, rubbing the pad of your thumb across her bottom lips, lightly sucking on it that’s insanely hypnotic. “Maybe he could finish inside us?” 

(Sakura and Kazuha: birds of a feather. You can’t fathom with the fact sometimes that they’ll act like angels, dress like crazy, and only have you around to tug the clothes off of them, as they’re babbling listlessly about how you’ll pin one of them down (or both) on the carpet, make paintings with your tongue all over their bodies; the taste of each more exquisite in every round you take them on, fucking them on any article of furniture within reach. )

Kazuha’s not even remotely close to you. You and her are just surface-level friends at best. Heck, she’s only a mere acquaintance in the swing of things, if you want to read deeper into the personal analysis of each other. The only line of connection you have with her is through Sakura. And from the last outing being a solid first impression for all parties involved, you’d laugh to yourself at times because Kazuha could never have enough of you and Sakura. 

“Kazuha, sweetie,” Sakura purrs, pulling her head up with a string of spit still attached to her chin. “You’ve had your fill with him already, literally.” And as she says that, you feel all of the muscles and bones in your body practically melt through the mattress beneath you from the overall presence and weight that these two women have. These two perfect dolls - imagining how their bodies will bend and crumple when you bury your cock inside both of them, shutting one up with the other’s cunt over their mouth. Sakura’s mouth has already made you want to test that edge, and with Kazuha’s? 

“I think we should let him decide who to dump his cum into, no?” Sakura suggests soon after pulling Kazuha’s body next to hers, allowing you to admire the live Renaissance painting taking place before you. She then pats Kazuha’s shoulders twice, much like something straight out of practice: Kazuha quick to get on top of your waist while Sakura scooches down to hold your cock tried and true back into her mouth, the pleasure instantaneous as Kazuha’s lips find yours for the first time today. 

Kazuha’s arms slither over the bridge of your collarbones, letting you indulge in her perky tits, trying to keep your focus on her while Sakura begins to up the ante again in scarfing up your cock. 

“I wanted you all to myself when I woke up first,” Kazuha says, tangling her fingers in your hair, softly moaning when you’re leaving sporadic marks all over her tits, capturing your lips again as you involuntary groan into her mouth, to which she receives it incredibly well. “But you were sleeping so soundly, I decided to leave you be.” 

You’re also wondering about the different things you had on your to-do list in your phone. Out of all times, why in the hell were you thinking about that now? You’ve got your personal love interest inhaling your cock by the second, with another friend in your arms who’s willing to be your personal fuckbuddy just for the sake of it. 

Kazuha’s features break a bit when you’ve got your lips catered to the stiff buts of her nipples, hands wandering across that toned back of hers, tracing the shoulder blades while the grasp in your fingers starts to crunch at the fine skin. 

“I think,” she husks, listening to the occasional gags Sakura’s doing on your cock continuously. “Maybe you’ve been wanting my mouth for a bit too now, huh?” 

(Well, yeah. I mean-) 

Kazuha quickly takes the hint right out of your mind, mirroring the same pathway of kisses that Sakura did not long ago, the same waves of pleasure mixed in with the return of goosebumps spreading across your body, hands still unsure where they play as they’re suspended in the air, giving way as Sakura slips your cock out of her mouth, twisting at the crown once Kazuha meets in the middle. 

The gaze they give you, from the both of them, exchanging glances with each other because these two share a brain cell together - that’s the simple assessment to observe when you’re left speechless. 

Thank God you cleared your morning from whatever schedule that was initially planned, because it wouldn’t have led to having these two in your bed wanting all of you. 

“Do I still have a say in this?’ You attempt to ask, studying how their eyes are full of infectious lust, the creeping grin spreading across their lips. “To be fair, I think I also need to get some morning stretching in before getting on with the morning.” 

“Oh, you’ll get your stretching in.” Sakura muses. 

“You won’t be saying anything from this point on,” declares Kazuha. 

No point in arguing against the pair; the verdict has already been decided. 

Sakura slides her hands up across your chest, laying you back down while Kazuha shuffles down to the original spot where Sakura was occupying, eyes drawn to the peek of Kazuha’s tongue on your cock, switching in between kisses and licks. 

A difference between Kazuha and Sakura when it came to blowing you: Sakura knew the different kinds of tricks from experimenting in the past couple months - what worked and what didn’t. Kazuha, on the other hand, was just yearning for the taste of you in her mouth, sealing her lips with the right press, eager to pick up where Sakura left off. It shouldn’t be making you feel like putty, but that’s exactly the case when she bottoms your cock out, clenching her throat that makes you twitch at the hip joints. 

Sakura gets a hand around your length, tethering you to one angle, Kazuha dipping down with just her mouth, with every bob up being met with a palm twisting around your shaft. The sounds that rumble from deep within your chest are enough proof that the thin walls surrounding you three won’t be quiet for any longer. 

Though your muscles could only stay tense for so long due to the fascinating clench, with Sakura joining back in on the fun that makes you fall slack to the mattress. She’s picking back up with kisses in certain areas of your groin where Kazuha has only glossed over, tongue well working up the seam of your balls, popping on in her mouth while Kazuha’s face is perpendicular, shifting up the side as if she’s playing the flute. 

Her brows furrow for a bit when she puts the head of your cock past her pretty lips, hollowing her cheeks for a moment, swirling the tongue right underneath the tip, enough for you to tense up your length in her mouth, and you’re met with wide eyes, feeling the small release of cum onto her tongue. Kazuha then slips you out for a second, licking her lips as you’re putting everything into your body to not bust this early. 

“I think he’s had enough of me, Saki. What do you think?” Kazuha observes, “Do you want more of him again?” 

“Is that even supposed to be a question? Let me remind you who’s the sluttiest between the two of us.” Sakura grits, voice laced with a firm determination, as her eyes are now filled with fire building deep within the corneas. 

You might be fucked here. But hey, that’s all part of the fun with these two. Remember? 

Not that it was any sort of competition, so to speak, but with how they synergize together, the movements of their mouths all over their shaft, guiding one’s mouth over your cock, taking turns, whispering these sweet instructions of ‘hold here’ and ‘right there, baby,’ and even ‘god, spit all over his cock, baby. You know he likes it wet,’ it’s impossible for you to stand tall, the assault on your shaft turning into a monumental task from here on out. 

Sakura asserts herself over Kazuha, fingers fast around the base, lowering her jaw enough so that the speed of the bobbing can be much quicker, and it is. Judging from how loudly you ground for the both of them to hear, Kazuha’s hands find themselves on the back of Sakura’s head, grabbing handfuls of hair as she guides her down again, making her swallow you. All of you. Until you could feel the vibrations of her hums rattling down your length and into your lower body. 

Kazuha whispers into Sakura’s ear, too difficult to hear since the whines drown out the continuous gagging she’s proffering over your cock, putting her at the base for what feels like an eternity. One second. Two seconds. Three. Four. Five. Six. Seven. Eight. She’s still holding you down with the tightness of her throat, the urge to put your hand over Kazuha’s, prolonging the unbelievable sensation, and three taps to your hip signal that Kazuha’s had enough. 

She pulls her head back up, coughing; these destroyed attempts at sobs breaking through the air. You’re left gasping, pressing the back of your head into the pillow beneath you as they both tend to your soaked cock, looking back up as they move in unison for a moment, then switching off different places around the underside while the moans just keep on coming. Hands are also fast to comb back the light obsidian and honey golden locks, not wanting to ruin their flow when they meet to kiss with your cock caught in between the crossfire. 

“You girls are something else,” you husk, ears filled with the sounds of their giggles as they both continue with their makeout session, alternating with mouths and occasionally your cock still in both of their hands. The wet kisses being shared were an absolutely wonderful sight to see, and though you forget that you could also have fun for yourself, taking the liberty to press both of their lovely lips on the sides of your shaft, laughing and moaning up and over the length while you just watch. And you keep watching, feeling the puffed-up chest of yours almost rise to where your chin’s at, sucking your gut inwards as your hips do the familiar motion of raising themselves upwards to the both of them. 

“He’s ready for us, hmm?” Sakura asks, wiping a patch of drool away from her chin. “Kazu, you get to ride him first. I’ve got to make sure he’s well rewarded for his patience, okay?” 

Kazuha nods, watching as she primes herself, touching her slick folds as Sakura shuffles herself up past your chest, getting her thighs buried into your armpits, her pussy hovering right over your face, not wanting to wait another second as you pull her hips down, moaning into her core as Kazuha teases her walls with the head of your cock just for good measure. 

“Don’t, fuck, please." Sakura pleads, taken by shock when your tongue swipes up her pussy lips, taking in the sweetness while making note of how slick she’s gotten for you. The pads of your fingers grip on her legs a bit tighter, her nose shifted up to rub her clit slightly, and she yelps. Kazuha laughs right behind her, sinking her warmth over your shaft, eliciting a moan that gets transferred into Sakura’s leaking hole, licking up the folds when Kazuha finally settles your cock into her. 

“Shit!” 

Sakura clutches her fingers into your hair, moaning to no avail as you quench that thirst you’ve been searching for this entire morning, and she starts to grind her pussy lips across your face, rolling slowly as your mouth hangs open, letting the sounds of rapture spill out of her mouth with every lick you do to her. 

“You’re so good,” Sakura moans out, feeling the latch of your lips onto the nub, flattening out your tongue again across her folds, earning another moan in approval. You smile against her hips when your ears are filled with the endless phrases of cursing that you’ve heard way too often, but it never gets old. Ever. “Why are you so... so fucking good at this?” 

So you try to speak, but all that’s said is buried underneath the drain of her pussy, moaning out as a proper response as Kazuha picks up her pace in riding your cock, feeling the clash of her hips with yours, bottoming out your length that makes you lock your knees to ensure that the lower half of your body is stable enough for her frame. 

Kazuha increases the chances, setting her legs up in a squatting position, keeping herself upright with just her hands on your waist, letting her face onto Sakura’s sweaty back. She lets herself float over you for a minute, taking the chance to catch her breath while you begin to piston her pussy, thrusting upwards. You’re met with a low groan spilled out of Kazuha’s lips in response to your action, only to be drowned out when she lowers her hips to meet with yours, the primal slaps filling up the room and bouncing around the walls. 

The inevitability of cumming a full-fledged broken dam into Kazuha’s cunt was a thought filling your mind, but you try to not think too much about it; Sakura’s pussy was still a thing to deal with, maintaining your pace with every lick you do to her clit.

Effort was everything; that was something to keep in mind when it comes to fucking Sakura. She loves it when you get so into it just like her, because you too can’t get enough of ruining this perfect girl every chance you get. Kazuha was also on the same boat, and by how your thighs continue to shake at the weight of her hips coming down on you again and again, it’s impossible to ignore how good she is too - keep it coming, Sakura’s telling you, in the lovely sounds filling up your ears coming from her and Kauhza. You’re fucking me so good, baby. I love it when your cock throbs inside me. Please give it to me. I know you want to. 

Kazuha knows you’re close, and Sakura’s not far off in the lost rails of rhythm. Her pussy is flooding on your face, the please becoming more erratic and desparte.

“God, I’m going - I'm going.” 

The words coming out of you are buried underneath Sakura’s thighs. 

"Fuck, I can’t with your fucking-ah!” 

Kazuha does one drive back down your length, and then one more for good measure. Sakura’s hips tremble over your face, quivering and hips trembling as you drag her pussy right across your tongue. Your arms latch somewhere above Sakura’s ass, matching her clutches with the digits buried in your locks, a fire lit under your chest as Kazuha’s cunt grips you like a knot - the heat from their bodies and yours submerging you as if you were in lava. Kazuha bucks forward, face hitting Sakura’s back, holding herself up with her hands as the pounds from thrusting upwards become increasingly unstable, her ravine of a pussy getting you closer and closer to that edge while you can’t even think straight. 

A swipe up the tongue on Sakura’s folds. Then three more, nibbling on her clitoral area as her thighs start to press inward from both sides of your head. She keeps grinding, dragging her swollen lips across the ridges of your face, mewling with a hand on the headboard, giggling as she mirrors the movements from grinding on your cock earlier. 

Kazuha slams her hips down, and not in a nice fashion since, well, fuck, legitimately, her cunt seizes your cock, smearing her sweet juices all over the rough bits, a vein that’s concealed with her walls, keening when she feels the swollen head shoved up inside her twitch that really makes her feel like mash. Her nails are ripping apart the skin on your stomach, searching for a hold to grab on to. It’s all futile when your body’s elevated to a temperature where there’s glistening sweat all over - her hands slip off and land on the cushions, priming the angle where you’ve hit before, fucking her deeper. She hisses when your balls lightly tap the pucker of her ass, just a bit, but that turns her on so much more. 

“This cunt,” you mumble out, mouth still full of Sakura’s pussy, “Kazu, I can’t, babe. Your pussy is unreal.” 

“Okay,” Sakura flatly says, “fuck.” And Kazuha just laughs, fluttering her eyes shut when you’ve latched onto the lower part of her thighs. “Keep working on him, Zu. You know he loves your pussy that much, right?” 

“Yes, yes, yes, God.” 

“Cum inside her.” Sakura instructs, and it’s a bid that you had no second thought of doing. “How nice of her to be your little personal fuckdoll, hm? To just handle her in ways that you want her to, nice and sticky and all fucked out, because you know she’ll come back for more, baby.” 

The next move she does is so calculated, you can’t even tell or determine if she did it on the fly: placing Kazuha’s chin on the small divot in her collarbone, the image of her closed eyes, the frizzes in her wavy hair slightly covering part of her face, shaken because of how your hips drive upwards into her. And Sakura just does the simple motion of putting her palm on the side of her face, parting her mouth open while you can only watch with your eyes since the lower half of your face is still attached to Sakura’s pussy. 

“Saku,” a frail call in the last seconds, “She feels so good.” 

“Fuck your cum into her, baby,” Sakura growls again, clawing the sides of your head as she ruts her hips deeper into your mouth. “That’s the only thing that matters. Until she’s full with the fucking thickness of it.” 

You managed to fuck Kazuha through her climax a minute or two ago, and now she’s repaying you by fiddling through yours. 

It’s an unraveling feeling when you push past that brink, filling up her tiny cunt with cum, molding her fuckhole to every detail of your member. And she’s mouthing, Sakura’s expression filled with glee, saying, Aw baby, god, yes, would you look at her? She loves it when you fuck a nice load into her, fresh and hot, and-

“Christ,” you grit out, hoarsely, letting the pulses channel out of your body, Dick still grinding the deepest parts of her stomach, cum splattering every spot to be left untouched inside. The throbs are still happening, but with every hold you have, your cock starts to die out in the heat of her hips. 

The senses are all over the place when Kazuha slips her pussy off of your cum-soaked cock, Sakura’s hips now hovering above your face, shifting off when you still see the constellations flash in your eyes, vision blurring and deblurring to the image of Kazuha paying no attention to Sakura’s state, sloppily placing her lips with hers again, rough. 

These two kiss like friends, maybe friends who have had a little bit too much to drink in order for them to act like this. They’ve done this with Yunjin and Chaewon for sure, based on the stories that you’ve heard. With or without the alcohol, they both show this kind of affection because it's natural, watching as Sakuraa’s hands find Kazuha’s head, Kazuha slithering her arms behind Sakura’s back, letting the passion take over both of their bodies. They both take the time to indulge in each other's features: hands wandering, mouths on nipples, gripping necks and pulling waists closer, Sakura teasing Kazuha’s well-worked cunt, a fingertip soaked with a bit of your cum, licking it cleanly off her fingers. 

And the hums. The fucking hums that these two are spilling out. You’re basically drooling when they pick up where they left off with the kissing, paying no attention to you as your hand starts to slowly slide over your cock, palming it before your fingers start to wrap around the length one by one. You’re equally fucked just like them, but there’s no problem with that. 

Both of them take as much time as they needed - tender lips and tongues canvassing every part of their exposed bodies, eyes recording every second of this account - in hopes that you can play this back in your mind as Kazuha smiles with full delight to match your expression, drinking in the sight of the show presented right on your lap. 

“I think Saku’s ready for you,” Kazuha hushes, lightly dragging her fingertips across the taut line of Sakura’s abs, resting on the underside of her breast, like a showoman who is trying to entice like she’s selling the latest model of a car. Her hand then goes down to Sakura’s clitoral area, rubbing it in circles when the mountains of pillows and sheets are unearthed from the mattress, ruffling and crumpling with the movements of their legs and feet, being pulled by your hand to the edge of the bed. “She made a mess all over your face, didn’t she? Now you’ve got to pay her back.” 

You’ve gotten out of bed in a heartbeat multiple times before. One morning was because you were late to class; the other time was to follow the view of Sakura’s bare ass tiptoeing into the kitchen for another meal before starting the day - and here you were, with a rearranged order in what probably feels like slow motion but one constant movement throughout, hand never leaving the meat and bone of Sakura’s ankle, assisting Kazuha by reeling Sakura, who’s shying away, but this is exactly what she wants. 

“Our little baby of a whore is deprived of a thick cock filling up her guts,” Kazuha sighs, expression a bit fatigued with the way she’s still coming down from her high. “So do you think you can do me a favor? Stuff up her cunt nice and tuck first, then ruin her after. How does that sound?” 

You try to answer, at least, taken aback when Kazuha’s got her long fingers along the line of your hardening shaft and Sakura’s spreading her legs wider and wider. She’s holding you close. Closer. Aiming - tried and practiced - towards the heat of Sakura’s. It’s a hook, line, and sinker when the head of your cockparts her walls, slippery and still leaking, feeling every nerve ending in her hips trickle a thousand volts inside. 

“Make her beg for it. I think you’ll be able to fuck her filthy with how she’s wanting to cum for you.” Kazuha’s tone drops down low, almost agitated. “This is payback for what she did to me last time, so I’ll let you be the judge.” 

And when the opportunity presents itself for you to determine that said call, it’s never a clear answer from the start if you’re willing to be honest with yourself. The one of many tricks Sakura has on her exposed sleeve, enchanting you with a heavy desire - the kind of want that could never be fully fulfilled. And, even in the days where it does feel like that, it doesn’t even come close to satisfying you. 

When you lock eyes with her, wide open to match with her parted mouth, bottoming her all the way with your cock tapping to that spot that has her keening, holding back her sigh as your groin meets the underside of her thighs. 

“Feel good, baby?” You ask Sakura, relieved at how she’s come to grips around your shaft burying inside her, head tilting back, clutching on to Kazuha’s forearm as your fingers find their place along her thighs. “Hm,” you assess soon after, inching your cock past the halfway point, “sure looks like it does.” 

Sakura’s mouth wobbles, gasping, her eyes draw shut, and her face flushes pink. She takes in your cock so well, the slipping slick of her thighs sounding off this noise of pure squelching; her whole upper body moves up in reaction; stomach bucking, chest puffing up to the open air, pushing in the deep area that has you speechless. 

The bottom palm of her hand grazes your groin, adjusting to how your cock molds around her cunt, hands shifting to the underside of the knees, using the rising octaves in her moans to indicate that she’s receptive and expressive in approval. Amidst the growing chaos the lower half of your body is going through, Kazuha takes liberty in massaging Sakura’s breasts, rubbing her stomach as it bloats from the air being exhaled in whines and expletives. 

“Ugh, fuck, you." She’s blabbering at this point. 

And there’s you, finding your rhythm, your groove, enjoying the way her soft skin maps out across your rough and grainy fingers, how it sinks in so smoothly - much closer to melting, it seems - something of that degree. 

“-mhm,” and there’s the “can’t baby, ah, ngh-” with more of, “-dick feels so good.” It’ll fall between the cracks, piercing deep, pulling out and sliding it across her folds just to play as a tease, because she deserves it without any reason, penetrating back in to pick up right where you left off. 

Sakura’s body is that one journey that you can never get tired of looking at. How her thighs are just immaculately perfect, that waist offering up those sets of abs on a pedestal, the way her tits rebound on the upstroke when you’ve got past the spot of bottoming her out - where your cockhead grips at the soft spot where it’s been at multiple times, squeezing and swallowing and resting where it should belong in every case with her. 

Kazuha shifts her body from the side of Sakura, getting lower to rest her head right above her waist, a trail of kisses circling over her stomach and belly button, getting caught in the throes of pleasure when you realize that Sakura’s got two fingers inside Kazuha, helping her treat herself and assisting the self-induced action. 

“God, Saki, look at him all fucked out in your pussy, huh?” Kazuha bites down in an area on her waist just above her cunt, nose brushing down lower to her clit, hand curling around to the bottom of her inner thighs, keeping it out of your way. “She wraps you so well, doesn’t she? Finally getting fucked again after last night?” 

“Don’t you know it,” you answer, and there’s no other need to spiel something that’s already been known; Sakura can make you shut the fuck up with her mouth, her cunt, and the way that she talks pure sex. You love how she’s nothing more than mush and warmth. A fine tapestry that’s meant to stay untouched, but you’ll tear all the edges down where the seams have already been shredded. 

You get thrown off when Sakura’s pussycle clenches at the hilt, where the contraction captures the air bubbling in your lungs, turning the legs into jelly, and the bobble forward into her lying body on the mattress only punctuates without saying a word. Kazuha laughs at the sudden change in weight on her head, causing you to stand back up with your knees to the bed holding you up, drawing away as Kazuha gazes at your silken cock, soaked with Sakura, lightly teasing when you’re pushing the tip in and out for good measure. 

Kazuha rises from her bent state, lazily putting her lips on yours as the pace slows a bit in the lower half of you - darting your cock in with one firm stroke. Hard. The strokes themselves are now more impactful, and ripping, the snap is becoming more assertive. “Fuck, sir, fucking,” Sakura cries out, the coil of her cunt tying you in. Kazuha sets herself back to where she was, resting her cheek on her waist as every entry with your cock, body bouncing on the soaked sheets from all the sweat and leaking slick coming out. 

“Yes, yes, yes, yes, ah.” 

Sakura’s hands hold at her thighs, gyrating upwards at every point where your cock buries at the deepest depth, swelling at the unimaginable clench to where she mewls, wailing but cute at how she’s tuckered out. 

“Goodness gracious,’ You spit out, in a half-sob, the moans and utterances and simple replies to Kazuha’s endless mumbling, repeating in one same fashion or the other. “You’re so-so fucking wet, and for what? God-” 

“Look at what you did to her,” Kazuha tuts, biting on the inside of her thigh, and Sakura basically yelps. A mix of pain and pleasure, the best of both worlds. You tug yourself out of her cunt, slapping the swollen cockhead on the nub of her clit, sighing at the way she shudders. “Do you think she deserves to finally let go?’

The responses that pass through your lips are just staggered breaths, tumbling down as the slaps start to line up with your heartbeat. A fine point in pace, your internal metronome that only leads to the dwindling doom of your thick cock thrusting Sakura’s tight pussy. 

“Love it,” Sakura mutters, head fallen to the provided pillow courtesy of Kazuha; she’s sobbing. “Love your cock, so fucking much.” 

“Mhm honey,” and the pet names in themselves are just the ad-libs thrown into the mix, with the right touch of pheromones and increase of dopamine being shot up to the brain. “Get it in there nice and deep; I want her to own it, feel it, because this cock is all hers.” 

“-god.” 

The riled-up exhale comes in reflection of the ecstasy, every bit of praise coming from Kazuha’s lips playing hand-in-hand with Sakura’s moans filling your ears. 

“Think you can hold out a bit longer, Saki? Kazuha croons, head turned the opposite way as she admires the sucked-out gaze Sakura wears on her face, meeting your eyes again. “I’m doing you a favor since he fucked my brains out last time, so be thankful. You greedy bitch.” 

“Shut your fucking-ugh.” 

“Don’t even think about keeping it in,” Kazuha doubles down, dragging her nails across Sakura’s inner thigh, forcing her legs wide open once more, almost as if she’s doing the splits across the length of the mattress. “He’s so perfect for you, hitting all of the right spots and all the right places? In that creaming pussy of yours? How his fucking fat cock splits you up into oblivion? Come on now, just-” 

“My fucking god,” you blurt out, in complete shock at the words that were spilling out of Kazuha’s mouth like emptying an open bucket full of water. “You are a piece of work.” 

Kazuha just laughs, taking the compliment to heart, with some mischief still showing with her closed eyelids. Sakura whines, going silent, shaking as your fingers bruise the same spots where the grip on her waist was first. 

The lust starts to boil to a point where nothing else is given a second though, and it’s been that way for a while now, fueled with a hunger that could replace the morning cup of coffee with ease, watching as your cock vanishes into Sakura’s pussy, the moans hitting similar notes that are now just echoes of the night prior. 

“Ah, uh, almost there." Sakura, once forward in her advances, now reduced to simple begs and pleads, the gaze half-lidded, back arching off the rumples in the sheets. She’s so fucking wet for you, and that’s another mental note that’s circling back in your head for probably the tenth time this morning so far, and might worth mentioning that it’s still in the fucking morning. 

“Oh? Make her do it, babe.” Kazuha orders the go-ahead, a hand - well, actually, both hands full of Sakura’s breasts, claiming it as hers. “I think she’s willing to be killed while being split open.” 

You’re paying zero attention to the words - grunting and passing air - as the piledriving only seems to be the sole constant that your mind and body seem to be focusing on. 

It’s a bit disorienting how your vision blacks out before coming back with color, the mind playing tricks as if you were getting your head dunked underwater and pulled back up, gasping for air. The thrusting never stops, with every fiber in your body, pooling it into fucking Sakura’s open cunt in the best way possible. Her hips are past the breaking point, grinding up against yours. She’s wailing, towards hyperventilation, eyes rolling upward to the back of her head, mouthing, close. You can easily tell, I’m so fucking close for you. Keep ramming your dick into me. 

“Saki,” now you’re saying the other nickname, and Kazuha grins, finally having her moment. “Fuck, baby-” 

Sakura looks away as Kazuha looks up, chin lightly tapping your hips - the devilish smile she possesses - it’s a rare occurrence, but that look could haunt you in your dreams: “Use her pussy, fuck everything up inside of her, I don’t care. Get her creaming all over you. I want to hear her screaming.” 

And Sakura fucking screeches. The better sound to wake up to rather than the annoying alarms on your phone. 

She holds still, every part of her body tensing - knees locking, toes curling, back arching and unarching - as Kazuha holds her down. The noises she’s making are loud enough to slip through the thin walls, and you can guess another complaint from the neighbors would be on the cards. Kazuha takes liberty into treating a barrage of kisses across Sakura’s body, you trying to drag your cock a little bit in, barely managing to drag yourself out. A brief effect from the aftershocks: her midsection freezing as the clamp around your cock starts to subside. 

Sakura whimpers with closed lips, shuddering when you finally slide out of her properly-fucked cunt, leaning down to kiss and kiss and kiss, dick taking the fresh, cold air as it rests along the bottom portion of her waist. Your hands get on her neck, helping her up with the arch in her back, hot and slicked and sweaty. Kazuha gives you two some space, playing as the makeshift crane to pull Sakura away from the clutches of your hands and lips, face racked in disappointment when Kazuha looks at you, smiling, tending to the mess that’s reforming in her arms. 

Kazuha then moves across the bed with her knees, a change in guard from Sakura to her when her body crashes into yours, the press of her lips good enough for you to fall on your back as the arms and chest eventually come into their own, molding with the canvas of your skin to mesh. She’s literally perfect for you - the way she wants more of you - in the taste of your lips, how your fingers explore every area of the framework that’s tensing and relaxing, reaching for spots that get her riled up in every way imaginable. 

You kiss and lick and grab wherever you can. A hand palming the firm skin of her ass, soft and plump. The hickeys and other various bite marks are an earned badge of honor for Kazuha to be proud of, her nails digging into the skin where your shoulders are as the grip on her ass-cheeks starts to become more and more possessive, slapping it as her forehead accidentally clatters yours. 

“Such a klutz,” she assesses, landing a loose kiss on the bottom of your chin. “Still able to think straight after fucking Saki relentlessly?” 

“What do you think?” You rebuke, dazed, as Kazuha gets a finger on a strand of your hair at the front, mimicking her messy bedhead bangs. 

“I mean,” she slips her tongue across your bottom lip, biting along the patch of few hairs, pulling her head back when she notices that your hands have never left the curve of her ass. “I think you’ve got more to offer, and here’s a bonus: there’s one hole that you haven’t filled yet.” 

It’s the most simple movement she could do, with any intent that she wanted to fabricate behind it. She turns around, swaying her ass from the left side as she’s on her hands and knees on the bed, stretching as far as she could possibly get them to reach. The arch starts to form along the fine lines of muscle displayed on her back, arms out straight as her legs find a proper foothold, spreading themselves for you to fill in the space. 

Your hands have never been quick to get themselves on something that you want, and this was the only exception; it’s appalling how easy the soft skin wraps around the underside of your fingers, picturing the look on her hidden face where you can only see the back of her head: in her lidded eyes, the swollen lip being captured between her teeth, the mumbling of insistence when all you’re just doing is feeling her out, resting your dick above her unfathomable cheeks, grazing the underside in the small divot at the middle, pressing them closer together, her hips reeling back and into your thighs, the listless moan spilling out of your mouth when the friction tightens at the belly of your cock. 

In fact, that’s the only thing you keep your focus on, not paying any sort of attention to Sakura when she shuffles out from beneath Kazuha’s lowered and bent body, doing this sort of army crawl to the nightstand for a certain thing. You’ve seen the arsenal that she has in that drawer, and some of the items were actually put to use in the last outing with Sakura and Kazuha. The instinctual thing that you do also is lean over to Kazuha’s backside and get one side of your face nestled into her as your hands wrap their way around her stomach, holding her close. 

Not much is said aside from the shaky exhales and whines, filled in with the occasional smacks of your lips across skin. Until-

“My turn to watch,” announces Sakura, a slim bottle in her hand, wrapped with those long, dainty fingers of hers. 

You blink once, and she’s on the edge where the nightstand is. You blink again, and she’s already made her way back to you, cap opened with the noise similar to an obvious crack of a stick, like breaking the silence in a quiet forest. 

Sakura’s hands become slick, as if her hand were made of the smooth liquid itself. The grip she has on you is breathlessly attractive: palm sliding across the length, strategizing the strokes at every curve and pull while she’s kissing you. 

“Do you have any idea how long she’s been wanting this?” Sakura questions, implicating you as she slaps your cock along Kazuha’s ass. “You’ve told me before: she’s made for you.” 

Utterly speechless is what you are, but maybe you should say something to-

“Gotta fuck her sensless,” Sakura suggests, head perpendicular to yours while the cock in her hands starts to graze the surface of her ass, nudging the opening by just a teeny bit, a small preview of what’s to unfold. “That’s what she wants. What she needs. Isn’t that right, Zuha?” 

“Mhm.�� Kazuha hums in agreement, a throaty moan to follow after Sakura gets both hands full of her ass, spreading her open. “All of it,” Kazuha murmurs, chest pulled inwards when you start to descend; the more you fall, the more faster the air expels out of her chest, with a shout thrown in - a last resort call of your name: “fuck, I, hngh, god.” 

You hold for a moment, pussy leaking by the second as she’s taking you fully, expanding to compensate for the girth. An enchanted feeling washes over your body, grabbing to whatever you can of Kazuha’s ass - holding, a still in this moment of time - and this was the only grace period you’ve given her much more than yourself, head falling back because her hips do this movement in your hands, and 

“For fuck’s sake,” you spit, because the suffocating tightness and heat surrounding your cock is one to be unbearable. The pins and needles of pleasure prick all over your nerves as the fine weight of Kazuha’s ass takes you in and out, until you’ve retreated from the impending chamber, pausing as your cock twitches. 

Then you drop the pin inside her, all the way. 

“Fuck!” Kazuha gasps, sewing her eyes shut. Her hands start to grip the sheets. 

There isn’t much time after for her to get used to this, as you start to drive into her more, fucking out every cry that you could suck out of her lips. Her ass does this little ripple effect with every slam, making her feel the thickness where it hurts, hugging your cock in all directions. It’s a gradual push from here on out, building your sense of rhythm again, just like how she was riding you earlier. 

“Finally,” Sakura breathes, kissing Kazuha’s ass cheek, getting her fingers buried on the curve, kneading, showing, and biting. 

The thrusts keep coming. One stroke and the next. Each one after is harder than the last. Your eyes are locked onto Sakura’s side profile, watching your cock disappear in the valley of Kazuha’s ass with every passing movement. Kazuha herself looks over her shoulder, a hand out reaching for something, maybe her thigh, hoping to spread herself even wider so that it’ll be easier for you to stretch her tight hole out. You could feel that she wants more, throwing her ass back to match her strokes with yours, the slaps becoming louder and louder, similar to the moans. 

“So fucking tight,” you grit, your vision loosing sharpness at the top layers. Sakura’s smiling into Kazuha’s sweaty skin. “Like, nobody else could have this but me. Shit-” 

“It’s not every day that you’re gaping a pretty girl’s ass.” Sakura says it excitedly, her head rocking along with the movement of Kazuha’s body in every slam. “Fucking her hole and opening up just for you. God, Kazu, can you believe this? He’s taking you so fucking well; I love the way he just fucks you, like that’s the only thing he’s meant to do. Just drop your pants whenever, and he’ll just take you right then and there- get you craving - over and over and over again, and it could be everything, if you just let him.” 

Kazuha claws deeper into the bedsheets, nearly tearing the fabric, Sakura’s face on Kazuha’s ass-cheek, closing her eyes to feel the motion more. 

Every inch of her body is washed with bliss, curdling in the layers beneath the skin, a form of want that could only, truly, be achieved by you. 

“Baby,” Sakura’s calling out to you this time, face flustered when you realize that she’s got a hand magnetized to the heat between her legs; fingers in its own cyclone, a paradigm of its own when she’s screwing in two, no-three digits inside her cunt, parting her folds in an identical fashion the way that your cock rips open Kazuha’s ass and fucking the lights out of her since that’s the primary reason why she’s connected to you, and Sakura even sit back and watch this unfold in front of her eyes, bear witness to you fucking her friend with every matching heartbeat to the claps, “She could be a heartbreaker for you, and you could fuck her ego until she finally knows her place, like the motherfucking slut that she is.” 

There’s no sense of control left in your bones anymore. All you just do is let Sakura’s words fill your ears as your fingers dig deeper into the firm cheeks of Kazuha, the warm embrace of oil trickling down the plugged-up, puckered ass as your cock picks up the dripping remnants. 

“I-” is what you make of a poor attempt from Kazuha, the vowel replaced with a flat-out gasp, since the irreplaceable feeling of power goes a little bit over the top of your head, a firm thrust to send the message instead as the fucked-out girl at the front of your thighs tumbles out a voice that’s wheezing and whining in croaks. “Fuck. Yes, fuck, fuck, babe.” 

Sakura doesn’t really say many words to you soon after, just mouthing yours, yours. She’s so yours. And even if you could describe the surreal feeling of bending a beautiful girl over across the canvas of your mattress and sheets, there’d probably be nothing else left to say from you. She’s just urging you to keep on trucking Kazuha’s ass, demanding that you’d fuck her until the wheelchair sitting in the dark corner of your closet proved to be a viable solution for her poor legs - when there’s all but that satiated with the proper fucking you’ve delivered. 

“Aw, you like it when she’s all fucked out for you, huh?” Sakura keeps on talking, smiling her heart away, paying no attention to the obscene sounds that Kazuha keeps letting out. You try to come up with a response to Sakura, but you’re lost at the letters caught in the back of your tongue, watching as Kazuha’s beautiful ass envelops all of your cock, balls lightly tapping her cunt when you’ve got it down to the hilt. The moans hit a hitch at the throat, only for it to be drowned out with the unrelenting thrusts into her tight ass and flushing your thighs with hers. 

A snap from one slow hit. Then another. You keep fucking in, one hand alternating between from the rounded end of Kazuha’s waist to her ass-cheek and the other buried into the messy locks of Sakura’s, holding her head in place as the grip around your cock burns across the surface, not failling to keep the pace consistent as it increases the more Kazuha’s walls smother your cock with ease. 

“-perfect,” Kazuha manages to say, the syllables tumbling on top of each other as her whines do this staccato format the more your thrusts chop up the sound. You’re driving your hips so up to the frontside that the ripples start to catch Sakura’s cheek, who’s still laughing when she hears Kazuha try to speak, fucked at the cock stabbing inside her for all that it’s worth. “Stretching me so good, baby, you’ve got it, yes, right there,” and that’s when you see her head fall to the pillow, screaming with all her might when you’ve brought her to the point which- 

“Don’t you dare fucking hide from me.” Sakura scowls, fist full of Kazuha’s hair, forcing her up. The arch in her back is deeper than before, giving you a little more space for you to take inside her ass, inching deeper. This wouldn’t be possible if it wasn’t for the wetness and pulsing throbs your cock emits when you bury yourself in, holding as the grip from her tight ass is something straight out of a mythical creation. “I want him to hear you. Use you. Lower your head again, and I swear to fuck-“

This happens on impulse, or maybe this was the one thought sitting in the back of your mind that couldn’t rest there any longer, pulling your cock out of Kazuha’s ass, finger, and thumb quickly to be wrapped around the base. You’ve got Sakura’s head in your hand still, dragging her across the dune of Kazuha’s cheek, closer to the head of your cock, and she takes the hint fully, lowering her jaw until her teeth pass the head, enveloping you, eyes fluttering shut, and humming out of surprise. 

“You talk too much,” you’re saying to Sakura, mouthful of your cock, tongue slipping and pulling with her head in the ways that she knows you’ve ascended from before. “I thought I had you up on the ropes earlier; guess I didn’t do much, but we can fix that later.” It’s incredibly difficult for you to not lose your insanity, transitioning from Kazuha’s tight ass and into the addicting heat of Sakura’s mouth, taking you past the halfway mark, head dipping past her soft palette and into the hollow of her throat, cheeks puffing and coughing up spit to soak the areas already covered from the wetness in Kazuha’s ass. “Fucking-” 

Sakura’s sharp inhale for air sends you in check, as her welled-up eyes watch your cock sink back into Kazuha’s ass, face crinkling when the tightness is a little hard to break into before you’re sliding back in and out with ease. 

So it just flows the way it goes. A turn-taking kind of structure you’ve established. You thrust inside Kazuha’s tight ass for a few strokes, pull yourself out, and nestle your cock into those pretty lips of Sakura’s. The pair of them humming in approval and giggling under their breaths as you take the fun for yourself, using one hole after the other. Kazuha’s face is riddled with sweat, the hot pink shade running across her cheeks. Sakura’s is also the same, welled-up tears as she holds herself down the hard line of your cock. 

These sluts. Your sluts. Many would’ve wished to be in your shoes. But you’re the lucky pick among the both of them. 

“My good girls,” you mumble, groaning as you up the takes in one tight ass and one pretty fucking mouth. “Could die like this every day, using you two like this. A fucking dream.” 

Sakura guides you back into the rim of Kazuha’s ass, hand posing as the makeshift pipe when your cockhead nudges back into her, groaning like crazy to the added pressure of her fingers and palm. Your body twinges a bit, gradually building up the slaps with every follow-through more quickly than the previous hit. 

“My, fuck- holy fuck-” 

“What’s the matter?” Sakura’s fast to assess the condition as Kazuha’s moans start to bounce around in every wall and corner in the room, watching as you keep fucking yourself into Kazuha and her ass, “Too much to handle? Oh god, you’re about to bust, aren’t you? Kazuha look, he’s going to cum again soon for you, baby.” 

You could probably hear the sirens calling within your head. Kazuha’s hips are moving on their own and not in line with yours. Tensing, tensing, then relaxing, and it flip-flops. You can see in the muscles and how they sort of cramp up per se, how her moans are a lot more vocal as to earlier, when you feel down her cunt and be surprised how she’s oozing in your fingers, her ass clenching around your cock, clinging.

And the brain overload to not blow it makes you pull out, flicking your cock up in the air as you watch the arch in Kazuha’s back deepen. Sakura’s got a palm full of the oil, slathering it nicely - hand coiling you where it feels right. 

“One more push,” Sakura pleads, resting her head down the midline of Kazuha’s back, both hands on her ass, spreading her open for you, “please, just for us.” 

So. 

You do as Sakura says, pressing your cockhead back into the soft coil of muscle, Kazuha’s body greatly accepting you - grabbing and stretching and inviting all of you. She’s buried her head back into the cushion, muffling the pained whines, pulling to the right so that the breathing is a bit easier to tolerate, and the rush soon after is a spell of your own. 

Sakura’s hands hold firm on the plush of her ass, pulling outward and pressing inward when you’ve sheathed yourself, the vice ten times tighter than what it already is. Kazuha’s ass clutches around the head of your cock, and with every pound that you dish out to her, the more audible the clashes of skin are. Your upper body is starting to buck forward, the lower half losing composure in the routine that it built for itself, Kazuha’s mouth is parted open just like Sakura's - mouthing - keep going, yes, fuck my ass, just like that, god, your cock, just need you to-

“Babes, I’m going-” 

That’s really all you say when you’re revealing your cock away from her ass, cumming all over her uncontrollably. 

Shots of white are painted over porcelain. Spent, slick, and messy porcelain. You’re trying to readjust the grip around your cock, pointing your tip inside the open hole of Kazuha, shooting a measly two or three spurts, hips trembling as she gets help from Sakura to hold her ass open for you.

Sakura, unfortunately, gets caught in the crossfire. Earring a few scattered streams of your release all over her face, some in her mouth, and plenty into her hair. 

“Mmmm,” breathes Sakura, tongue running across both upper and lower profiles of her lips, hooking the taste of you on her buds. Kazuha still has her face down, buried in the sheets, ass up, as she could legitimately not move a single muscle in her body after being wrecked for god knows how long. She’s softly sobbing into the pillowcase; bruises spread out across her skin, visible red prints highlighted on her cheeks, but she’s managed to calm down. The breathing is starting to stabilize. “Look at that: two loads from you this morning. You should be proud of yourself.” 

“Should’ve came inside my ass.” Kazuha suggests, finally letting her frame fall to the side as you and Sakura both observe the obvious drip of cum oozing out of her. “This doesn’t technically count, but I want a do-over.” 

You and Sakura both exchange this look with a singular eyebrow, a dragged-out grin soon to follow. “Such a slut for you.” Sakura observes. 

“That isn’t really new news to anyone.” 

-

Some hours later, things get slow. It’s the weekend, or the weekday? You’re too lost to put that setting back in your head, primarily because: 

“Can you guys keep it down?” Sakura asks loudly, not willing to turn her head around away from the TV when you bend your knees a bit and slip inside Kazuha’s cunt against the kitchen counter, hiking up one of your borrowed shirts you gave her to reveal the handprint still apparent on her ass. “I can’t watch the movie if I hear two horny rabbits getting it on behind me.” 

“Fuck you,” Kazuha rasps, mewling when you’ve buried yourself deep to the cornerstone of your cock. “If it were me, I wouldn’t have said no to getting some seconds.” She’s dipping her head down, hiding her face in the wavy locks of her hair, but you can tell her lips are parted when you’ve got a hand to her neck, pulling to flush her backside with your front. “God, yes-” 

“Don’t expect an apology from me,” you’re calling out to Sakura, who took it upon herself to finally twist and see you staring, the pumps inside Kazuha relaxed, and its own thing happening. And Kazuha’s not even moaning yet. “You only have to blame yourself for bringing a physical version of Aphrodite to the place.“ 

Sakura rolls her eyes, turning her attention back to the television. “That’s her little secret. I guess. And it’s not my fault that you fall for it every time.” 

The thing is, there isn’t really a secret to be said amongst the three of you. You’ve mapped them out to their little glances - the one quirk that gets them both going for something to follow. Dumb it down to a simple phone call or maybe a cantation laced in the words they whisper into your ear. Sakura’s right: you will fall for it.

Every. Single. Time. 

[yuveenti-blog]

Astrology Observations: 🌔🏡 Moon in Houses🌔🏡

Disclaimer: Thank you for returning to my page; I hope you are finding value in the content I consistently create for you. I truly appreciate your support, including your likes, reblogs and follows, and I am grateful that you are engaging with this post. This message is intended for you, and if my interpretation of these placements does not resonate, feel free to disregard it. It is common for individuals to not connect with certain aspects of their chart, as each chart is unique, and some traits may be overshadowed by more dominant ones. This marks my second post in the series discussing the influence of different planets in the houses, with the next post focusing on Mercury in the houses.

Moon in 1st house: These individuals manage their emotions independently. They openly express their feelings but refuse to view them as a vulnerability. They draw strength from their emotions, allowing these feelings to guide many of their choices. Their emotional state can change rapidly; they prefer to discuss their feelings or confront them directly rather than dwell on them. Air signs often experience a conflict between logic and emotion, leading them to adopt a more subjective viewpoint. They may also be inconsistent in relationships, displaying a non-committal nature and moodiness. In contrast, earth signs navigate their emotions more swiftly and adopt a straightforward, no-nonsense attitude, expressing their feelings bluntly. Water signs can be intense and passionate but may struggle with emotional balance, often finding themselves in dramatic situations due to frequent mood swings. Fire signs generally feel more at home in this emotional landscape, though they risk becoming destructively emotional.

Moon in 2nd House: These individuals often become deeply connected to their emotional states, particularly the positive ones, as their self-worth is tied to feeling good internally. During emotionally stable periods, they may perceive themselves as more valuable, while facing lower self-esteem during times of depression, failure, or anger. This focus on maintaining emotional well-being can lead to a sense of emptiness during low periods. Air signs might neglect their emotions in their pursuit of their personal standards, potentially becoming repressive and overly rational. Earth signs tend to grapple with self-esteem, as their sense of balance is linked to their emotional state and life aspirations. Water signs frequently confront insecurities regarding their worth, struggling to manage negative emotions and often clinging to emotional states longer than necessary, which can create trust and security issues. Fire signs, on the other hand, typically experience a boost in confidence, driven by their natural assertiveness, but they may also wrestle with jealousy and insecurity, particularly towards those they admire or aspire to be like.

Moon in 3rd House: These individuals tend to be analytical and often require solitude to explore their identity independently. They rely on friends for emotional support and frequently find themselves in the role of the therapist, either offering or seeking a listening ear. A need for understanding drives them, and they feel unsettled when they cannot piece together their thoughts. For air signs, this can complicate emotional processing, leading to detachment as they analyze their feelings from a distance. They may struggle to connect with those who lack intellectual depth. Earth signs face similar challenges, often suppressing their emotions and becoming the go-to for advice. Water signs possess heightened intuition, blending feelings with intellect, but they risk confusing emotions with logic, leading to biases and dependency on others while sometimes appearing overly self-assured. Fire signs may experience a slowdown in this context, as their thoughts filter through the mind, which can enhance their self-expression but may also make them seem preachy or controlling, leaving little space for others to contribute.

Moon in 4th House: Individuals with this placement are always in search of emotional security, often surrounding themselves with trusted people or those from their past. They thrive on familiarity to maintain emotional stability, which can delay their ability to form new friendships or relationships. Many may have a comfort item to help them navigate stress or emotional challenges. These individuals are prone to anxiety and tend to manage their emotions best in their safe spaces. For air signs, this can lead to a more reserved demeanor, as they hold back their feelings, appearing warm and engaging only with family and close friends while seeming distant to others. Earth signs may project a calm and easygoing nature, avoiding drama and feeling uncomfortable with emotional openness, revealing their true selves only to those they trust. Water signs often retreat into solitude when feeling emotionally unbalanced, relying heavily on their close relationships for support during tough times. Fire signs may experience fluctuations in energy, becoming more temperamental with those closest to them while appearing moody and less dependable to outsiders. They might struggle with conflicting feelings about their life direction and the needs of those they care about, leading to uncertainty about their path.

Moon in 5th House: These individuals prioritize enjoyment and often find it difficult to confront their emotions, preferring to escape into pleasurable activities or distractions from reality. They tend to rely heavily on friends, partners, and family for emotional support, struggling to cultivate their own emotional health. This can lead to a tendency to become enmeshed with others' feelings instead of focusing on their own. Air signs, in particular, may find it challenging to process their emotions without seeking distractions, often getting caught up in entertainment as a way to avoid feeling. Earth signs share a similar inclination towards seeking entertainment, often resorting to shopping or spending excessively during tough times to escape their feelings. Water signs, on the other hand, may gravitate towards romantic relationships during difficult emotional periods but are prone to ignoring or suppressing negative emotions, sometimes turning to substances for relief. They may also engage in reckless sexual experiences as a means of escape, yet they can be very enjoyable companions. Fire signs, while focused on fun and pleasure, risk becoming overly self-indulgent, sometimes losing sight of the seriousness of life and their emotions, leading to emotional buildup.

Moon in 6th House: These individuals often feel a strong need to comprehend their emotions, sometimes to the extent that it resembles a full-time job. They are well-suited for roles such as therapists or psychoanalysts, as they tend to take healing seriously and seek therapy when facing personal issues. Problem solvers by nature, they are more inclined to pursue emotional well-being than others. For air signs, this placement can be challenging; while they excel in rational problem-solving, their airy nature may cloud their judgment, making it difficult to identify the best path for emotional growth. Overthinking can hinder their ability to resolve issues, complicating their emotional journey. In contrast, earth signs thrive in this placement due to their grounded approach, combining a desire to solve problems with practicality and realism, which facilitates their healing process. Water signs may struggle, as their need for emotional fluidity clashes with the structure required for resolution. Fire signs in this position might face challenges due to their quick emotional shifts, which can hinder the natural flow of their feelings and lead to an excessive focus on their emotions.

Moon in 7th House: These individuals struggle with understanding their emotions due to an inability to recognize their own emotional state as distinct. They often gauge their feelings based on the moods of those around them; for instance, being with cheerful and calm people can lead them to feel positive, while being around negative or dramatic individuals can bring them down. This creates a fragile connection between their emotions and those of others. Air signs face particular challenges in this regard, as their tendency to overthink can lead to cynicism, especially in unhelpful environments. In contrast, earth signs are better equipped to manage their emotions, as they can maintain a sense of grounding and filter their feelings more effectively. Water signs, however, may find it difficult to set emotional boundaries due to their empathetic nature, often neglecting their own needs. Fire signs also encounter challenges, as their natural enthusiasm can wane in the presence of unsupportive people, leading to feelings of emptiness if their energy is not reciprocated.

Moon in 8th House: These individuals experience heightened emotional intensity due to their fluctuating emotional states, often remaining entrenched in prolonged feelings that can skew negative, particularly in this challenging placement. They grapple with their darker qualities, which can lead to a sense of alienation from the collective, making them feel distinct and somewhat out of place. This heaviness often prompts them to withdraw or become more private as a means of emotional protection. For air signs, navigating these intense emotions can be particularly tough, as they may prefer to focus on external matters rather than their own emotional landscape. Earth signs, while also facing challenges in grounding themselves, may find it easier to detach from these darker states and perceive reality more clearly. In contrast, water signs often feel overwhelmed by the emotional weight of this placement, leading to a constant intensity in their emotional experiences. This placement poses particular challenges for fire signs, as their natural enthusiasm and zest for life are muted by its darkness. It can be tough to maintain a positive outlook, and expressing their inherent fiery energy often becomes a struggle due to this dampening effect.

Moon in 9th House: Individuals with this placement possess a distinctive ability to perceive their emotional landscape, enabling them to gain deeper self-understanding than most, while also offering insights that others may lack. This placement is closely tied to faith, leading these individuals to often embrace religious or spiritual practices as a means of grounding themselves and harnessing their emotional strengths. For air signs, this placement is advantageous, as it fosters a unique outlook on emotions, allowing them to recover quickly and move forward with a positive mindset. Earth signs also benefit from this placement, as it provides a balanced perspective that helps them remain grounded without succumbing to overly optimistic or spiritual practices. Water signs thrive here due to their heightened perception and intuition, making them deeply attuned to their emotions. Fire signs, too, find this placement beneficial, as it equips them with emotional wisdom and enthusiasm, resulting in a confident and bold approach to life.

Moon in 10th House: These individuals often prioritize their public persona to the extent that their true emotions become disconnected from how they present themselves. They may appear confident and sociable outwardly, yet behind closed doors, they can feel deeply insecure and fearful. Conversely, they might project a strong, aggressive demeanor while internally grappling with vulnerability and emotional turmoil. This constant struggle leads them to mask their true feelings, adapting their emotional expressions to fit their surroundings or goals. Air signs, in particular, face challenges as they tend to rationalize their emotions, often neglecting their true feelings in pursuit of their ambitions. This lack of emotional awareness is compounded by their focus on external perceptions rather than introspection. Earth signs in this position face challenges as they lack a genuine connection to their emotions, often prioritizing stability and practicality over feelings. Their focus on maintaining a certain image leads them to neglect their emotional needs. Water signs, on the other hand, experience significant difficulty in this dynamic, as their natural emotional depth conflicts with the need to maintain a certain public image, leading to potential repression or explosive emotional outbursts. Fire signs are well-suited for this position due to their inherent confidence, boldness, and sociability. Their enthusiasm for life drives them to present a positive self-image, and this placement allows them to channel that fiery energy into more productive endeavors.

Moon in 11th House: These individuals often exhibit unrealistic emotional perspectives, as their attention is primarily directed towards collective concerns rather than their own feelings. This focus on friends, family, and the broader world can create a significant disconnect between their internal emotions and their ongoing contemplation of external circumstances. As a result, they may become emotionally detached, failing to recognize their true feelings or those of the people they care about. This tendency leads to a projection of ideals onto others instead of accepting reality. Air signs particularly struggle in this regard, as their tendency to overthink exacerbates feelings of delusion regarding their thoughts and emotions. In contrast, Earth signs tend to remain grounded, allowing them to better understand the genuine emotions of those around them. Water signs, however, may find themselves caught in the idealism of the 11th house, which can lead to delusions due to their strong emotional nature. Fire signs are often supportive of others but may neglect their own well-being, resulting in personal suffering while they ensure those around them thrive.

Moon in 12th House: These Individuals often experience significant emotional turmoil from a young age, leading to a persistent heaviness in their feelings and confusion about their true emotions. They may feel isolated or out of place, struggling with mental health challenges and the quest for their identity, particularly in processing past traumas. For air signs, this placement can be particularly challenging, as their tendency to rationalize and intellectualize emotions can result in overthinking and mental health issues. In contrast, earth signs benefit from this placement more, as it grounds them and allows for a clearer understanding of their identity and goals. Water and fire signs face the most difficulties in the 12th house; water signs may escape their emotional pain through substances, avoiding confrontation with their turmoil, while fire signs often find their natural enthusiasm dampened by a pervasive sense of gloom, making it hard to maintain their energy and positivity.

[moonstruckme]

Hi!!! I saw you did a poly!marauders with a plus!dive reader who’s insecure…

Can you write one where the reader is shying away from intimacy with the boys because they’re insecure and feeling ick about their body? Like not just sex but also physical touch like hugs or especially sitting on their laps? It can include smut too if you’d like!

I’m feeling pretty ick about my size rn and the fix really helped me! Thank u sm for your writing

Thanks sm for requesting lovely! I hope you start to feel better soon <33

cw: insecurity around size/weight, talk of traditional beauty standards

poly!marauders x plus size!reader ♡ 1.3k words

The funny thing is, the boys have been wearing away at your instincts for months. It’s no conscious effort for them, but for you it’s impossible not to notice. Before you got together, you’d been used to shying away from nearly every touch. You rarely hugged anyone, kissed only chastely, and shunned most physical intimacy. But though they’ve gone about it in a gentlemanly way, never putting pressure on you, your boyfriends have slowly changed that. Now hardly a day goes by without James having had his arm around your waist, Remus raking casual touches up your leg, or Sirius turning a kiss into a feely makeout. 

Unfortunately, you still have your bad days. Earlier this week you’d looked too long into the mirror, and of course found a dozen things to hate about your body, and hadn’t wanted any of the boys to touch you since. When Sirius’ hand had smoothed over your lower back yesterday, skimming the rolls of fat at your sides, you’d almost thought you’d be sick before you could get away from him. You couldn’t stop thinking about what he’d feel there, what he’d think of you when he did. You’re not stupid; you know your boyfriends can see you, but touching is something different. What they probably want to feel isn’t what you have to offer, perfectly smooth skin and sloping, gentle curves. It sometimes feels like you’re keeping the secret of your true form from them, and if they discover it they’ll see you the same way you do. 

“So, what’s the big secret?” Sirius asks as you come into the common room. All three boys are tangled up on the couch, and the other two turn to look when he calls out to you. 

You give him a bemused sort of smile, perching on the armrest next to James. Careful not to put much of your weight on it. “What do you mean?” 

“Don’t play coy.” Sirius narrows his eyes at you playfully. “I saw you whispering with Evans earlier, glancing at us all mischievously. What’re you two up to?” 

You have to bite down on your smile. Sirius’ birthday is coming up, and you and Lily are in charge of his surprise party plans. James and Remus are involved too, of course, but it’s far easier for you and Lily to speak about it in your dorm at night, whereas your boyfriends hardly get any time apart to partake in secret plans. 

“Oh,” you say breezily, “that was nothing. She was asking if we’re going to hogsmeade tomorrow. I told her we are.” 

James smiles at you conspiratorially, bringing a hand to your thigh and rubbing up and down in silent support. You almost have a heart attack. You place your hand hastily atop his, intertwining your fingers as cover for your panicked response. James doesn’t seem unhappy with the change, resting his head against your arm as he strokes his thumb across the back of your hand. 

“Should we make it a study session in hogsmeade?” Remus asks, neatly keeping the subject away from Sirius’ party. “We’ve all got that potions paper due Monday.” 

“I’ve finished,” you admit, “but I’m still open to studying if you guys want to.” 

Remus rewards you with a smile as Sirius rolls his eyes good-naturedly. “Show-off,” he mutters. 

“Shut up, Pads,” James says, always looking for any opportunity to take your side over Sirius’. He grabs your waist before you can stop him, tugging you off the armrest. 

No sooner do you land on his lap than you’re springing to your feet. “James!” you cry, batting at his hands when they reach to pull you back. “You can’t just do that, I’ll crush you!”  

Thick eyebrows fly up past the rims of James’ glasses and disappear behind his curls. “I’m sorry,” he says, in a tone that clearly means the opposite, “do you really think I’m so weak that I’ll crumble from you sitting on my lap?”

“It’s not—”

“Fucking hell,” Sirius cuts in, looking horrified, “if you think James can’t handle you, what do you think of Remus and I?”

“I’ll bench press you right now,” James insists, trying to push the other boys aside so he has room to lay down. “Come here, lovie, we’ll see who’s weak.” 

The laugh that emerges from your throat borders on hysterical. “I wasn’t trying to say that anyone here was weak, okay? I just…” There’s no good way to phrase that last part, and you think for a moment to simply leave it there, but Remus leans forward, setting his elbows on his knees with an expression that clearly reads go on. “I know I’m not, like, a tiny delicate bird,” you laugh, aiming for flippancy. 

No one laughs with you. 

“But I don’t need any of you to respond to that,” you hurry to say. “I know it’s a weird subject, and there’s, like, no right way, really, to…to respond.” You trail off dumbly, wishing desperately that you’d never broached the subject in the first place. 

After a moment of silence, you chance a glance up, but one look at Sirius’ visage, bordering on outraged, has your gaze defaulting back to your lap. “Sorry,” you say in a small voice. “Can we forget about it?” 

“That’s alright, love.” Remus' voice is dulcet, so low you would never normally have heard him if the other two boys weren’t so uncharacteristically silent. “Listen, we don’t have to talk about anything you don’t want to, but can I just say something?” 

You look up to nod at him, finding his countenance equal parts troubled and patient. His mouth is pursed like he’s worried that if he’s not careful, the wrong words will come flying out. At your nod of assent, he speaks, clearly and firmly. 

“I don’t want you to look like a bird.” 

You almost laugh again, it’s such an absurd declaration, but Remus’ expression is serious. “You know what I mean, though,” you say, lifting a shoulder like this conversation is nothing to you. “I know what guys want. I’m not that.” 

“Bullshit,” Sirius says, and Remus’ lips twitch upward at your boyfriend’s brash tongue. “You’re just gonna lump us in with all guys? Do all girls want the exact same thing too?” You go to protest, but he talks over you, fuming. “Golden boys, tall with blond hair, blue eyes, and an eight-pack of abs, right? Is that what you wish we looked like?”

“Of course not.” You’re tripping over yourself in your denial. “I wouldn’t—I don’t want you to look any other way.” 

“But you can see his point, can’t you?” Remus asks gently. “If we each only liked what we’re told is most attractive, a face full of scars probably wouldn’t be on the top of that list.” You must look as devastated as you feel, because Remus’ lips pull up in a reassuring half-smile, the long scar across his cheek flashing silver with the movement. “Does that matter to you?”

Your voice is quiet; chastened, but ardent. “No. Not at all.” 

“So perhaps you can imagine,” James says, raising his eyebrows at you teasingly, “how if you can look at us and find things to love, we can do the same with you.” You gnaw on your lip, and his brows come slowly back down. 

“Don’t,” Sirius says sternly. “Stop thinking whatever you’re thinking. You’re gorgeous, and we like you like this.” His eyes bore into yours, insistent. “You can’t make our decisions for us about which parts of you we’re allowed to like, understand?” 

James nods, extending his hands to you. “Would you come sit with me, angel? Only if you want to, of course,” he adds at your hesitance, “but please don’t refrain because you’re worried about anything to do with me.” 

You give him an assessing look. “Alright,” you say, perching on his lap. “Just tell me if you want me to get off.” 

“Will do, darling.” James grips the fat of your hips, hauling you onto him so that your feet leave the floor and your full weight is on him. “Not much danger of that, though.” 

“Honestly,” Remus hums, pulling your legs across his lap so that you’re sitting sideways on James, “the day one of us says we want you to look more like a bird, run, sweetheart. Someone’s using polyjuice or something.”

[certainlynotasimp]

can i req miguel and sunshine where she has a BUNCH of hickeys but shes too nice to make fun of so the spiders tease miguel instead?

Just A Taste

(Miguel O' Hara x Female! Reader)

A/N: Omg this is so funny and cute!!! I was kinda struggling writing this because I was like, 'How much is too much for hickeys?'. It's currently hot as hell where I live and so you can tell where that inspo comes from this can be read as a part 2 or a sister fic to Just A Bite. I almost made it an unofficial part 2.25 to Our Girl, but I changed my mind. Also, I'm sorry it's a little short, but I hope you like it.

A/N: I also really wanna try that sorbet thingy where they come in the fruit shells if you know what I'm talking about. If you love this then please check out the master list and if you wanna be kept informed about updates on the Miggy and Sunny series, then comment on this taglist and you'll be added.

WARNINGS: Grumpy x Sunshine, Female reader/ Female pronouns, Barely any use of Y/N ((Sunny is her nickname, not her actual name)), OOC Characters, Flirty Miguel, Some implications of NSFW content, and Google Translated Spanish.

~~~~~~~~

It was very rare that it would get so hot that Miguel would be laid back with the rules. He held everyone to a certain standard when it came to being a part of his elite task force and he was a stickler for them to act like it. Despite this, he only expected three rules to remain to be followed at all times.

All Spidermen can’t travel to other worlds without notice.

Spidermen can’t travel without a mask on to protect the identity of all Spidermen.

Everyone has to wear their spider suits at all times.

Unfortunately, certain circumstances don't really allow certain rules to be followed reasonably. Especially when it involves people with special circumstances.

Such as this.

“Miggy!” A soft whine emits from the chair beside him as the woman sat upside down. Her unmasked face felt hot as a light sheen of sweat made her beautiful face glow against the soft light of the monitor. “It’s so hot…I thought you said Lyla would fix the air hours ago.” 

Miguel rolls his eyes at the sight of her feet lightly hanging over the top of the chair as. “Mi amor, if you stay like that, you’re gonna have a lot more to worry about than a heat stroke.” He playfully pinches her ankle as he grabs a tablet from the table, fanning his own burning skin.

Due to a massive heat wave, Earth-928 was experiencing the hottest summer it has ever had in history, causing Lyla’s A/C system to malfunction. The Lobby was left a broiling mess with Spidermen refusing to come by until the AI’s systems are rebooted. Only a handful of spiders were on base with the residential sweetheart suffering the most since she lives there.

“Can I please take this off?” She moans as she swings up and shoots him those dreaded puppy dog eyes. 

“Oh?” Miguel quirks an eyebrow as his eyelids lower. A playful smile graces his handsome face as he chastises. “I didn’t expect you to be so risky, mi sol.”

A flurry of butterflies spread out in her gut as she glares at Miguel. His response is to chuckle as that pretty glossed lip pokes out as she scolds him, “Not like that, Miguel, and you know it. This suit feels like a furnace and I just want to relax…”

The idea of his cute little lover prancing around in the nude would be an interesting idea to Spiderman, but he knew that his love would never agree to do that with others in the Head Quarters. Miguel bites his lip as he contemplates torturing his arañita some more, but he decides to show mercy as he relents.

“Alright, mi amor.” He sighs as he allows his own suit to dissipate, exposing the tight black tank top and tight athletic pants. “Pero tendrás que cumplir esa pequeña fantasía mía más tarde, mi niña bonita.”

His remark is ignored as she stands up from her cheer with a quiet “fuck yea”. After tinkering with her gizmo, the black and white suit disappears revealing her white tank top and black running shorts, but Miguel couldn’t help but smirk at the blotches of bruises that marred her skin.

Just before he could comment on it, the door opens as a voice complains, “YO BIG MAN! You need to tell that computer to fix this air!”

Another voice accompanies the new yorker's as the tall Brit yells out. “It’s sweltering here, man!”

Ben and Hobie came to a halt as they see their friend smile at them. “Hey, guys!” Sunny calls and waves at them while their faces grow ten degrees hotter.

The poor woman’s entire body was covered in hickeys. Her shoulders and collarbone were littered with several little puncture wounds while her neck had multiple light scratches dragging down. A distinct handprint was present at the base of her neck like a necklace with matching bracelets on her wrists. Her exposed thighs bared no better as the inner sides of her thighs had similar bite marks with a matching set of claw marks on the outside of her thighs. 

Ben swats a hand over his mouth as his hand slams over his horrified mouth while Hobie looks at Miguel in an amused expression. The urge to throw himself into another dimension plagues Miguel’s thoughts as he realizes that he will never live this moment down for the rest of his life. Rubbing his hand over his face in frustration, the oblivious spider turns back to her lover as she tilts her head at why everyone was acting weird. 

“Miggy, are you alright?” She mumbles as Hobie joins them up there with fake concern wrapping around his voice. “Yea, boss, are you alright? You looking a bit flushed, yea?” Hobie struggles to hide the growing laughter in his voice as Miguel throws him a nasty glare. 

The punk was never afraid of getting under his leader’s skin, but his ego really took over when he knows his boss would definitely not do anything while his missus was right there watching him. Ben also decides to join the fun by remarking, “Yea, you look like you need something to blow off that steam. Maybe a little taste of something sweet, right?” He teases as he figures he was safe.

Unfortunately, he unknowingly sparked an idea in the naive spider’s mind. She claps her hands in excitement as she exclaims, “That’s a great idea, Ben! I think I have some sorbets in the freezer of Miguel’s apartment.” 

Miguel wickedly smirks as he realizes that he may have an opportunity to exact some revenge as the two other boys tried to reason with her to stay. 

“Oh wait, Sunny, You really don’t have to..”

“Yea, Love. We are fine really!”

The boys try to reassure her that she didn’t need to travel all that way to get some ice cream before a smooth voice says, 

“Es una idea maravillosa, mi amor.” Miguel praises as his love’s smile brightens in response. “¿Por qué no vas a buscarme a mí ya ti ya que estos dos quieren ser miserables en este momento, de acuerdo?” He coos causing the woman to swoon at his soft tone.

“Alrighty, Miggy.” She grins as she opens the portal with her gizmo. The boys’ hearts stop in their chests as the little spider ignores their pleas to stay and happily skips through the portal to Miguel’s apartment. 

“Now then…” Miguel’s menacing voice twists around his cruel smile as he looks at the trembling boys. “What is it that you guys wanted to talk about?” 

Yep, they are fucked.

~~~~~~~

As the portal reopens on the observation deck, a smiling jumping spider comes back through with two packages in her hand and two spoons as she calls out, “Miggy, I’m back!”

“Llegando, mi sol.” His voice surprises her as he swings himself back onto the platform. She tilts her head as she begins to ask where he went when she noticed that he was now shirtless with the evidence of what she’s done to him now on full display.

His chest had small dark circles littering his pectorals that created a  trail down his abdomen and his abs, disappearing into the dark brown happy trail that began below his belly button. Upon seeing her stunned face, Miguel chuckles as he gently takes one of the icy treats from her shaking hands and a spoon before sitting down in his chair. 

“Gracias Amor.” He says nonchalantly as he rips open the packaging and starts eating the sorbet from its fruit shell.

“N-no problem, Miggy..” She sits beside him and opens her treat as she avoids looking at his powerful back muscles as they flex and move as he ate the sugary sweet. She almost drops the damned thing after the deep scratches on his shoulder blades reminded her of what they did just the night prior. 

“¿Qué pasa, mami? Miguel mocks as a mischievous smirk causes his fangs to poke out. “¿No te gusta tu sorbete? ¿O hay algo más que te gustaría probar?” He purrs as the spoon in her hand falls to the floor with him chuckling.

“Miguel!” She scolds as she begins to bend over to pick up the spoon as another spoon full of an icy treat. Her stomach flips as Miguel looks at her with his pretty apologetic red eyes as he pokes her pouting lips with his peace offering.

“I’m sorry for teasing, my love. You just look so cute and flustered.” He admits he gives her a soft curl of his lip.

Matching his smile, Sunny opens her mouth and happily accepts his apology with a small moan. She sighs as she lets go of his spoon with a satisfied smile.

“So good!~”

“I’m glad.” He smiles as he dips his own bite and eats it. “Es casi tan dulce como tú…”

“Miggy!” An embarrassed voice shrills as the man laughs with his love.

~~~~~~~~~~

Translations:

arañita - Little spider

Pero tendrás que cumplir esa pequeña fantasía mía más tarde, mi niña bonita.--But, you are gonna have to fulfill that little fantasy of mine later, my pretty girl.

Es una idea maravillosa, mi amor.- That's a wonderful idea, my love.

¿Por qué no vas a buscarme a mí ya ti ya que estos dos quieren ser miserables en este momento, de acuerdo? -Why don't you go get me and you some since these two want to be miserable right now, alright?

Llegando, mi sol.- Coming, my sun.

Thank you,love- Gracias amor

¿Qué pasa, mami?- What's a matter, mami?

Es casi tan dulce como tú…–It's almost as sweet as you...

~~~~~~~~~~

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[celesse]

Hello! I wanted to ask this question and I hope it doesn't come across as rude, but I've noticed that you have several of your designs at hot topic. I saw the "Toby's beans" design in store and noticed HT wants a little less money for your design from them compared to the one on your personal store. I was wondering if it's due to HT being a "big chain" and listing prices this way because they are a Corp or if there is a quality difference. I've been eyeballing some of your designs and I'd 100% rather buy directly from you to support you (even more if the quality is better) but I couldn't help but wonder what the difference, if any, would be!

Hi there, no worries! I'm happy to explain the differences.

The lower pricing for HT has several contributing factors, the biggest one being that they can do the kind of volume I can't do myself. HT also stocks standard cotton shirts that are printed with standard plastisol screen printing (this kind of printing gives prints that sort of light plastic feel). The print is still nice and the shirt itself is fine, and all these things allow for a lower price point.

The ones in my artist shop are premium quality shirts (usually Bella Canvas) and printed with discharge screen printing, which is a method that basically dyes the print into the garment so you don't feel it at all. The fabric is really soft, so that plus the no-feel print makes for a super comfy shirt. It just comes at a higher price point.

Buying direct is always the best option if you can, as I get higher profit for each direct sale, but buying from HT shows them that my designs are desirable. So either way helps me out, it's just up to the individual customer on what kind of price point or level of quality they want :)

I hope that helps!

[apas-95]

I've been getting more into ML groups recently, but keep noticing I get called a "moralist" when I speak about where my anticapitalist views stem from. If "moralism" and morality aren't good arguments against capitalism, then are there ANY "good" arguments against it? Capitalism has resulted in unprecedented increases in science, technology, and living standards across the globe. And yet people are still fed up with it, decrying how exploited the lower classes are, and protest against the cruelty involved. Those are all reasons to be anticapitalist, but they're fundamental moral arguments, and I genuinely cannot think of how I can argue for communism/socialism/anticapitalist otherwise, at least in a way that Fully abandons moralism.

I can't speak to your precise situation, but the key point to understand here is that morals and systems of morality are all socially constructed, and all serve the interests of one or the other class in society. It's not to say moral arguments can't be made, but your analysys and basis of thought needs to be deeper than morality, because morality isn't something that exists in itself. If you are making an argument founded in bourgeois morality, you will produce bourgeois errors; if you make an argument founded in proletarian morality, you won't make those errors - but obviously, to be able to determine what moral system you're using in the first place, you need to have a deeper theoretical understanding and understand why these things are against the moral system of a given class, why they are against their class interests. More importantly, moralist arguments aren't the basis for an actual movement to destroy capitalism. Marx and Lenin didn't just write 'capitalism sucks!!! people suffer!!' - any worker living in their times could have said as much - they analysed how capitalism works, how it benefits or harms given segments of society, and how it was inevitably driving towards its own collapse and replacement. Being 'anticapitalist' is not enough, and it is not the same as being communist - again, basically anyone who isn't well-off is going to be anticapitalist, is going to have moral critiques of capitalism of one sort or the other, but that doesn't translate into an actionable and correct understanding of what is to be done about it, and will often have harmful and incorrect ideas due to not analysing their own morality.

[shhhsecretsideblog]

For the birth denial asks, what about going to a play or performance and you're in labor the whole time, but you're sucking it up because it's your partners birthday and they really wanted to see it, but your water breaks/ you feel the urge to push just after the last intermission ends

Anon!!!! You beautiful person! This is my fav thing ever and I swear I’ve submitted this exact request to other birth fic writers on here before I started doing my own. So so happy to have gotten this ask. Thank you!!!!

Theatre Birth

We had booked the tickets a year ago; it was a limited run at our local theatre, guest starring our favourite actress, and it just happened to coincide with your birthday. We simply had to get tickets to see this play. So I offered to buy the tickets and we could make a celebratory night of it.

But then I got pregnant.

We completely forgot about the show with all the excitement of the pregnancy, until about two weeks beforehand when we received the tickets in the post. It was awfully close to my due date. You offered to cancel the tickets, or see if we could resell them, but we were both still desperately excited to see this limited performance while we could. I assured you I still wanted to go, it was your birthday treat and we would be fine. First babies are never early.

I didn’t tell you about the braxton hicks contractions that plagued me the day before, or the fact I’d lost my mucus plug that morning. You were too excited; it was your birthday, you had a baby on the way and you would be seeing your favourite actress that evening. I couldn’t spoil your joy, especially not for false and practice labour pains. I just had to ride them out and let you enjoy your day. I’d tell you tomorrow.

I’d managed to hide the grimaces of pain throughout the day, but when we got to the theatre the cramps were coming at such regular intervals I was forced to consider this might actually be the real thing. But we were here now and labour took hours before there would be any need to go to the hospital, so I didn’t say anything. You pulled my arm eagerly through the theatre, excitement sparkling in your eyes for this evening’s performance. Holding my heavy bump, I plastered on my best smile and waddled behind you to find the row with our seats.

The old theatre seats were upholstered in a rough red velvet that itched the backs on my legs and the size of the seats were not designed with pregnant people in mind. Needless to say I was far from comfortable. You flicked through the programme and opened your box of sweets, in a world of your own as we waited for the show to start. I shifted in my seat and rubbed the ache in my lower belly, my bump spread over the tops of my legs because the seat was too narrow to allow it to fully sit between my thighs as it usually did. Another contraction struck and I hissed through my teeth but at the same time the music started abruptly so my flinch was left unnoticed.

I’d thought seeing the play would be a great distraction from the aches and twinges, but as the waves of pain crashed with more and more intensity I couldn’t pay attention to what was happening on stage. The seat was agonisingly uncomfortable, I was sweating in my outfit, and I was regretting all my choices that had led me here. After a long hour and a half Act One eventually finished. You helped me up out of the low chair so I could make a quick dash to the toilet, with the baby so big and so active I was surprised I’d lasted the duration of the first act.

There was a long line for ladies, standard in the small theatre, but as I felt the telltale cramping of the next contraction I pulled the pregnancy card and skipped ahead of the queue. I just felt so full; my belly was tight, the baby was low, and there was so much pressure. I panted silently through the contraction as I sat on the toilet and just as it was coming to an end I felt something give and a splash echoed from the porcelain.

Oh my god, that was my waters… I thought to myself.

I sat there, a little in shock, breathing slowly to calm myself. It's okay. I’ll just clean myself up, head back to our seats to tell you, and then we could make a quick and subtle exit before the play resumed. By the time I had exited the bathroom and awkwardly shuffled along the row to get back to our seats the lights in the theatre were already starting to dim - the next Act was beginning. You offered a hand to help me get back into the chair and I don’t know why but I took it and sat back down on the itchy seat. The music started before I could tell you my waters had just broken, with everyone around us back in their assigned seats all sitting in the dark and facing the bright lights of the stage. Now completely stuck in the middle of a row I couldn’t bring myself to tell you - we couldn’t get leave now, it would mean asking about 15 people to move in order to allow my heavy and labouring body to exit the row and attracting all manner of unwanted attention. Rubbing my contracting belly, I took a deep breath. I just had to get through act two and then you and I could head straight for the hospital after the play. Everything would be fine.

~•~

It was not fine.

Without the cushioning of my waters the baby’s head was rammed against my dilating cervix. The contractions were hitting me every few minutes and I was surprised I hadn’t yet cried out from the pain. I tried to do little things to ease the pain, shifting in my seat or rubbing my belly, but the movement seemed to attract the annoyed glances from people around us. If I just stayed still and breathed through the pain, I was sure I could make it through. Occasionally you’d glance at me, checking I was enjoying the show, and I tried my best to smile through my gritted teeth.

But everything changed when the need to push presented itself. I pulled a sudden sharp gasp and my eyes widened with panic. You softly turned to look at me and your face fell at seeing the pained and panicked expression on mine.

“Are you okay? What’s wrong?” You whispered in my ear.

“Hooo- nothing…” I breathed quietly, ignoring all my body’s cues that I might need to start pushing.

You placed a hand on my bump and felt the solid and tense surface beneath your fingers. “Are you having contractions?”

“I’m fine… hoooo… just- hold my hand.” I said, determined not to make a scene or attract attention.

Grabbing your hand I turned back to the stage, signalling you to do the same. I could do this, it wouldn’t be much longer and then we can leave quietly. Just breathe and don’t push, I told myself.

I managed to make it through half a dozen more contractions, breathing steadily and squeezing your hand whenever they hit. I could see in my peripheral vision your head turning anxiously towards me whenever I gripped your hand tight. The play felt like it was dragging on and on and on. Surely it had to end soon. The next contraction began to seize, I took a deep breath and released it slowly through the pain but the pressure was quickly building to astronomical heights. I was biting my lips to stop myself making any noise but the occasional whimper slipped through. Without control or permission I felt my body suddenly push. My fingers curled around your hand, my nails digging deep into your skin as I beared down.

Your head snapped towards me and saw my face scrunched and my chin on my chest.

“Oh my god are you pushing?!?!” You stuttered.

I could only gulp a breath as my body pushed again. The baby was right there and I couldn’t hold it in any longer. My legs parted instinctively as I slumped in the chair and lifted my knees. I could feel my lips start to open, forced apart as the head pushed its way out. And yet I remained silent, with only the occasional muted grunt sounding from my throat from a baby that was desperate to be born.

“Stop… y-you can’t be pushing. You’re not in labour… are you?” You were frazzled, unsure what to do. The performers were still on stage, the show continuing, unaware of the new life that was soon to enter the world.

I let go of your hand and scrambled to pull the fabric of my dress up. Diving beneath the clothing I put a hand between my thighs and I felt through my underwear the large round shape of the baby’s head poking out. “Fuck….” I gritted under my breath.

Unable to fully speak or explain, I just grabbed your hand and placed it on the partially crowned head. “Baby’s-coming…mnghhhhhh….” I grunted and succumbed to another push, bearing down uncontrollably with a primal need to birth right here right now.

People around us were starting to notice, but I could pay them no mind. The baby slipped further and further out with every push, filling your hand that had remained between my legs. The full crown was reached in a matter of agonising seconds and then with a sudden loud grunt the head popped out.

It was only then I became aware of the silence and the fact the people on stage had halted their performance and were staring.

[saberlight1]

nurturing — billy the kid

pairing: billy bonney x fem!reader

warnings: mentions of violence, death, trauma, sickness, established relationship, reader is also a gunslinger, Y/N usage, standard billy the kid warnings.

authors note: yes i love this man so bad. him in billy the kid deadass altered my brain chemistry lmao. this fic is based off of this request— please, continue to send me your ideas and whatnot, i love reading them! i hope you enjoy <3

masterlist

When you woke up, that unusual ringing in your ears, that pounding in your head, and the scratchiness of your throat— you knew you had fallen ill. One of the boys in the gang, or hell, maybe even someone you had came across had given you something— you didn’t really want to know.

You groaned, rubbing your eyes as you pulled the covers closer to you, attempting to sleep away the sickness. You didn’t want to get up to go to the doctors nor did you have enough money to even pay one. So you did what you do best— ignoring the problem completely.

You fell back asleep easily, sleeping the day and night away completely. When your eyes first fluttered open due to the sunlight intruding on your slumber, you thought you were free from the confines of your illness, but you were mistaken.

The second you sat up, all symptoms that were now arguably worse returned within an instant, causing you to get dizzy. You crashed back down instantly, a whine leaving your lips. Your muscles ached from staying in bed all day, and you wanted a damn drink— a real one. And you wanted to see your cowboy.. so bad. But with the pounding in your head feeling just as powerful as your heartbeat, the thought of even moving made you want to throw up.

And it did— you wanted to cry as you were forced to rush to the trash can in the corner. After 5 minutes of throwing up, your stomach finally relented. You carried yourself back over to your bed, the exhaustion taking over once again.

Hours later, a soft yet powerful knock on your door woke you up with a jump. Your eyebrows knitted as you heard the knocks only get louder. Now alert and awake, you slowly reached for your gun-belt that was neatly rested on your bedside table, grabbing your loaded pistol and cocking it. You used the pistol to slightly lift up the curtain to your window— it was raining, and it was night.

No one good could be paying you a visit at this hour.

You crept over to the door, the knocks only increasing in volume. You slowly turned the handle, your gun tightly in your grip— finger ghosting over the trigger. Adrenaline and anxiety coursed through your veins, you didn’t even feel sick anymore.

The door creaked open, and you pointed the pistol at whoever was out there before you revealed your form.

“Jesus, lady.” Billy’s soft laugh hit your ears, making you lower the gun instantly, placing it on the table by the door. “Stayin’ ready, huh?”

A heavy sigh of relief left your lips as you silently walked into his arms, your head resting on his shoulder as your headache began to form again. His arms wrapped around you quickly, the tip of his hat hitting your head when he leaned down to leave a kiss on your hair.

“You alright, honey?” He whispered, still holding you. “Been wonderin’ where you were. Supposed to meet me at the stables earlier.”

You sighed, completely forgetting your plans with the man. “I’m sorry, Billy,” Your hoarse voice whispered. “I’m sick, I been asleep all day.”

His eyebrows knitted together in concern immediately, as he pushed you off his shoulder to cradle your face in his hands gently. “How bad is it?”

“Just feel like shit,” You chuckled, sending a smile to his face. “I’m okay, Billy.”

His eyes clouded with worry. “C’mon, let’s get you in— away from this storm before it gets you sicker.” He ushered you in. “You seen a doctor yet?” He asked.

“Nah, I didn’t think it would get worse, plus it’s not like I got the money to pay one. Tried to sleep it off, I felt too bad yesterday to get out of bed at all.” You responded as you went to lay down. He tucked your gun back into its holster, before he went to refill your water.

He came back a moment later, a glass of water and a wet rag in hand.

“Thank you,” You whispered as you took a sip, as he placed the wet rag on the back of your neck.

He hummed back to you, laying down next you once you put the water aside, bringing you into his arms.

“You gotta tell me when you’re sick, darlin’.” He whispered to you in the moon lit room. “Can’t loose you to somethin’ like that. Happened to me too many times.”

“I’m sorry, Billy.. I— I don’t mean to worry you.” You said, looking up at him.

“You don’t gotta apologize, baby, just tell me next time so I can come take care of you, y’know?” He smiled, a lovey smile on his lips as he bent down to leave a kiss on your nose. “What can of man would I be if I left my lady to lay sick alone?” He pinched your side slightly, a giggle escaping your lips.

“I reckon you’d be a regular ole’ cowboy.” You joked.

“Well, luckily for you, I happen to be an outlaw.” He chuckled as he leaned down to kiss you— but your finger pressed into his lips stopped him. He looked at you, offended.

“I don’t want to get you sick,” You told him, your smile now more teasing.

“I don’t give a damn about some cold, baby.” He pushed your hand out the way, pressing his lips against yours in an instant, the man kissing you passionately— as if you possessed the air he so very needed. He pulled back, his teeth nibbling on your bottom lip. “Haven’t seen you in days, missed the feelin’ of your lips.” He muttered against your lips before connecting them again, his words sending shivers down your spine, your arms wrapping around his neck.

You felt comfort in the fact that you’d always have your outlaw to be there to make you feel better, no matter what.

[cora-illus]

Ninth House skull symbolism time ok

[Image Description: 10 headshots of Harrow Nonagesimus wearing the various black and white skull paints described in this post, with their names written above each head. End ID]

I wanted to expand on my headcanons for purposes + symbolism of the Ninth’s facepaint because the books don’t give much about them and its v intriguing to me. These are all taken from whatever is mentioned in the books + expanded on based on my interpretation of the character and context involved.

* : A mask with no canon name, the name listed is a headcanon/theory

[Image Description for all images following: A title card with the mask’s name as listed, and one side, three-quarter and front-facing headshot. All masks will be described following it’s title. End ID.] I wish there was an easier way to do this but text posts don’t allow alt text, and image posts don’t allow images between text.

Black Vestige's Mask*

A simply stylized skull, with the hollow of the cheeks, temples and eye recess blacked out, a blotch with two upright marks for the nose, and three vertical lines from nose to chin to represent teeth. The upper lip is completely coloured.

Gideon's effect on Canaan, seen on the GtN cover

This mask announces loyalty and service to the tomb, in a way that is practical and visually bold

The standard mask acceptable for any occasion, this mask is the most common among pilgrims and lower to mid echelon of the Ninth.

Also popular with cavaliers due to it's practical simplicity and stoic appearance.

Vestige's Devotion*

A more complex stylized skull, with thin lines around the forehard, chin and nose giving a clearer form to the skull. The eyes, temple and side of the cheekbones are blacked out, as is the cheek where (on a skull) there is a hollow between teeth and mandible/cheekbones. Teeth are more carefully painted on, and the upper lip is fully coloured.

Harrow's main effect, seen on the HtN cover

Also worn by Crux

A more detailed take on the Black Vestige's Mask, requiring more care and patience to paint.

Symbolises an enthused acceptance of duty, and a desire to display this publicly

Among regular Niners often used for ceremonies, holy days and important prayer.

For the more intense of the devout, this may be worn more frequently to show deeper devotion to their religion.

Jawless Skull 

A plain-looking skull, with no mandible - the temples, cheek hollows and entire jaw is blacked out. The eyes and nose are also blacked out, and individual teeth are painted on the upper lip.

Worn by Ortus upon learning of the summons in HtN

The oldest skull style.

A slightly more devoted/involved paint than the Black Vestige's Mask, with not much more variation in symbolism other than more strongly reflecting the Ninth House sigil.

May also be worn as an alternative to a Black Vestige's Mask.

Often worn by those who feel that they have something to prove, those who have thoughts/opinions they know would be better left unsaid, or who have taken a vow of silence.

The Anchorite Dying

Two styles: The first, using the Black Vestige’s Mask as a base, but with triangular gashes across where the temples becomes the forehead. The left side appears crushed and fractured, with two teeth appearing to sink into the black of the cheek hollow. The second, also using the Vestige’s Mask as a base, is more symmetrical - fractured cheekbones and a short line down the cheek from each eye. There is a blacked-out crack on the left of the forehead and a crack along the bridge of the nose.

Worn by Ortus arriving to Canaan in HtN

A melancholy acknowledgement of duty to the tomb - worn for one of two reasons:

when experiencing doubt or hesitation in one’s faith, this mask is worn to confess this and show a desire to overcome such internal conflict.

Or, to show the wearer deeply understands and accepts the solemnity and finality of the life of a Black Vestige.

Pilgrims who commit to life on the Ninth wear this mask for their full first year as a member of the House, and many of the most devout pilgrims-turned-House members maintain The Anchorite Dying after this period

Either style can be worn for either purpose and has no reflection on the wearer’s intent

The Priestess Crushed Beneath New Laid Rock

A painted skull of a face that has been crushed, revealing the sinus cavities above the brow bone, in the cheeks and up the nose. The temples, eyes, cheeks and area around the mouth and chin are fully coloured, with white squares along the bottom lip and top of the chin for sunken teeth. It is intended to be quite gruesome and unpleasant to look at.

Worn by Harrow to dinner on the Mithraeum

The ultimate honour to Anastasia, this mask is representative of a life given to the tomb either through sacrifice or duty.

Its gruesome appearance is meant to cleanse the wearer of any heresy or doubt in their duty.

Most frequently worn during rite of passage ceremonies - whether to anoint pilgrims to the Ninth's ranks or to ordain new priesthoods - or celebrate a nun's sacrificial death for the tomb. 

The Chain

A mask significantly more intricate than the Vestige’s Devotion - a more complex twist of lines around the forehead, cheeks and mouth, emulating an anatomical sketch of the form of a skull. These lines meet to make two small patches of black paint in the hollow between teeth and cheeks/mandible, and teeth painted intricately on the lips. Only the eyelids are blacked out, and the rest of the eye socket is outlined with thin black lines. The beginning of the spine is painted in white, against a black background, on the throat.

Worn by Harrow to the Ball AU in HtN

An incredibly intricate, involved mask. Mastering it shows the deepest devotion to the tomb and skull painting as an art form.

Symbolizes a life committed to the tomb, so much so that one is willing to sit for hundreds of hours to imitate even a fraction of a construct's complex beauty.

Not seen often in past generations, despite not being restricted to any event or class.

This mask is worn to show complete, utter devotion to the Tomb and respect to Anastasia. Although still taught in scriptures, few ever don this skull

The Inglorious Mask

Painted in blood on a bare face, this is a rough, rushed attempt to paint a Black Vestige’s Mask. The cheeks are painted by dragging hands coated in blood along the sides of the face, the lips and nose wiped with bloody fingers, and the eyes and temples rubbed with the bloody heel of a palm.

Worn by Harrow at the beginning of HtN

Represents a desperate, pathetic attempt to cling to faith in times of extreme hardship.

A vestige's paint is their most material connection to their faith. If they have nothing they have their masks, so they must do everything in their power to hold true to it.

Though better than a bare face, it is still immensely embarrassing and shameful to be seen like this. 

Reserved for an absolute last resort, if a devotee can do literally anything better than this it is considered heresy to not do so.

Veils are frequently included in this mask to prevent any from having to witness it.

Now a couple with less to bounce off of, just vague descriptions in the books I’ve taken + run with

Mandible That Prays For The Tomb*

A face painted white, with only the gap between upper and lower jaw painted in black, on the cheeks. There are five small lines on the upper lip that imitate teeth.

Worn by Matthias Nonius, scarified into Ortus' face in HtN

Aiglamene wears a more decorative variant of this mask

Symbolises a fealty that inspires protective instinct.

Highlighting the jaw, this mask is worn by those devoted to their prayer and verbal worship, and an honoured commitment to cavalier-hood in the name of serving the Tomb.

Another practical mask preferred by cavaliers, especially those who serve/d in the Cohort.

Having a majority of their face painted white protects the wearer from harmful sun rays that their skin is unaccustomed to, having grown up underground on the Ninth.

This mask allows them to show their fealty boldly while also serving a very practical purpose

Egregious Visage*

Very minimal, a face painted white with only the eye sockets, nose and upper lip fully painted black. There is a simple curving line on either cheek, a hint of a skull’s cheekbones.

A messier version is unintentionally worn by a young Gideon trying to wear as little paint as possible

This skull is considered the bare minimum of face paints on the Ninth - it represents a person's mortification or religious doubt.

While still being acceptable as a face covering, it is viewed with judgement due to these connotations

Worn by those undergoing punishment or social rejection, or those who are preparing the leave the faith.

[mayakern]

hiiii it's me! devin! ur favorite!

maya is still banned from doing big business things on social media while she takes time to rest and detoxify from the poison that is running social media full time for ten years. everybody clap! yay!

i'm here to share some info on our button-up shirt and dress preorders!

as many of you already know, i lost my anti-preorder campaign due to the high minimum per design. there's been some confusion and uncertainty. carsyn's doing her best but preorders are overwhelming and i have some time today

SO TO ANSWER YOUR QUESTIONS:

how close are you to hitting the minimum goal for the button-up shirts and dresses?

not close lol. as of 4/26 we're at about 8% funded. i refuse to panic until after may 3rd

why the funeral design?

the funeral design won our design poll

initially we were going to run preorders for two designs: funeral as well as astronauts. when we got news that the minimum would be 400 garments per design (we're able to spread that across the button-up shirts and dresses) we decided to cut back to one design. we're really not big enough to expect 800 orders on an $80-90 item

why not another design?

another design did not win the design poll

what would have been chosen other than funeral or astronaut?

deadly florals, hiss from a rose, microorganisms, and hands were all the top placers in the design poll after funeral

can you do solid color?

yes

why didn't you do solid color?

you can buy a solid color button-up shirt or dress from anywhere. the plan has always been to introduce these garments in solid color after their initial introduction

...so can you do solid color?

we will consider doing solid color preorders if these preorders bomb

how much would solid color cost?

probably the same. it's not much cheaper. it's faster to make tho

how much would the ecovero viscose cost instead of cotton?

maybe like $10 cheaper

it's really soft tbh but it's a different weave from the viscose for the skirts. it's my number one fabric for the button-ups but alas the cotton fandom won for now

what happens if preorders bomb?

we cancel and refund all preorders.

maybe we'll try again with a different design or with fewer features after we have some time to decompress from the nightmare that is running preorders (can you tell i hate preorders). if they bomb bad enough we may completely nix patterned button-up shirts and dresses. we don't know yet!

does that affect the picnic top?

the picnic top is completely separate. since it's made out of a different fabric it has its own minimum, so it will not be affected by button-up shirt and dress preorders

and like, to be totally honest, it's way cheaper to produce. we can eat some of the cost and just make them. they're small enough to store easily and they're at a lower price point so we can expect to sell them after we receive them, like the wrap tops

btw, we have other ready-to-ship things already in production. we've been working on a whole secret project. surprise!

why did you launch preorders for the button-up shirt/dress at the same time as the picnic top?

the picnic top sample came in with the button-up dress sample and it needed very little alteration. also maya liked it. also we may be developing an entire line inspired by the picnic top so keep an eye out for that next spring

why is the new button-up shirt more expensive than the old button-up shirt?

it's more expensive to make

why is it more expensive to make?

this is a different factory from the one we used before. it's more expensive because they pay their staff a higher wage and likely have other costs

this is a different fabric from the one we used before. it's a stretch cotton with a GOTS certification

this is imported from a different country from the one we used before. turkey has much higher import fees to the US

what is a GOTS certification?

the short version is the fabric itself is more environmentally friendly and produced with more fair labor practices than standard cotton

you can read the long version here here

can you do fulfillment from somewhere other than the US?

we're working on it. it probably won't lower prices tho, since fulfillment centers also cost money

anyway...

none of this is to shame someone for not preordering. groceries are expensive and things are tight, plus it kinda sucks to spend on a tight budget and not get what you ordered for a few months

(can you tell i hate preorders)

i think there's a lot of surprise since we've never done preorders on a single design before, and that's fair! we debated on doing a kickstarter but a) i hate doing kickstarters b) kickstarter takes a percentage of sales and our profit margin on these is already lower than we'd like it to be

i'm tired and i can't remember anything else i wanted to say. i may answer any additional questions from my own tumblr (@punchyemblem and now i'm gonna get a notification that i'm gonna be jumpscared by) but carsyn will be handling most questions

also don't worry, when you say nice things we still show maya. also she's fine, she's just in her (forced and highly necessary and possibly permanent) limited social media era