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#maternity beads
princessbrunette · 2 months
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linecook!jj hand feeding you something but you just start sucking on his fingers :///
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you sit outside beneath the canopy of the restaurant, the bustling sounds from inside fading beneath the gentle blowing of the breeze and distant ocean. you were visiting jj at work, not because it was a particularly slow day and he needed the company — infact, it was busy, you just missed him so much you thought you’d swing by.
he shoves out the back doors, a cling-film wrapped plate in his hand, wiping the other on his apron that was tied around his waist.
“‘sup babe, can’t stay out here for too long. it’s busy as shit and my manager is on my ass but,” he leans down, pressing a sloppy wet kiss to your lips only worsening your needy mood. “hi.”
“hi jayj, what have you got?” you eye the plate and he smirks, whipping off the cover. “chocolate covered strawberries for m’lady. our supervisors goin’ on maternity leave so she brought ‘em in for everyone. try it.” he plucks one off the plate as he plonks down on the bench beside you at the table, scooting right up so you could feel the warmth of his body radiating against your side.
he lifts a strawberry and brings it to your mouth, cupping beneath your chin with the other. “say ah, duchess.” he smirks, letting you chow down on the sweet treat. your lashes flutter with a quiet moan making him subconsciously lick at his lips, eyes on your mouth. “mmmhm. good, right?”
“yeah.” you smile, cheek bulging with the fruit. he goes to pull his hand away but your brows furrow, hand shooting up to keep it there. “keep feedin’ me.” you whine in complaint, and his eyes linger on you for a moment— feeling bad that you were clearly feeling submissive and needing him while he was on shift.
“easy babydoll. open up.” you finish chewing the other strawberry and he brings another to your lips. this time, when he’s finished feeding you, your fingers delicately wrap around his wrist, clashing with the beaded bracelet you’d made him looped around it. you begin to kitten lick the melted chocolate off his fingers, before giving in and starting to suck on them with a quiet moan.
his brows jump up, eyes darting around for a second for any on-going watchers, letting you suck away. “sweet jesus, babe.” he mutters under his breath as he gets lost in the moment. he jumps when the shrill voice of his manager cuts through the moment, her holler carrying from inside.
“maybank, get back in here. we need you!” she yells and he gently eases his fingers out with a sigh.
“oh shhh—” he whips his head around as he senses her appear at the doorway with raised brows. “shhh—abadoobaba…” he sings half heartedly, not wanting to break her rule for not cursing when there’s customers around.
“inside, now.” she nods before disappearing and he huffs, standing up.
“thats uh, for you to keep.” he gestures to the plate of strawberries before looking down at you under his nose. “and i’m sorry i couldn’t stay longer. i’ll see you tonight, yeah?”
you nod, eyes all glazed over from the moment you just shared and he bends at the waist, pinching your jaw to give you a parting kiss. he presses his lips to yours, before pulling away just a tad, lips still brushing against eachother — eyes still closed. “‘know i love you babe but if you ever make me hard at work like that again i’m pulling the belt on your ass. i’m serious”.
he pulls away, observing your sweet doe eyes and adjusts the apron round his waist. “lucky i’m wearing this thing, huh?” he lets a smirk slip before backing away, jogging back inside. “see you later, cupcake!”
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ozzgin · 8 months
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Hi, first i wanted to thank you for doing my first request, it's amazing 😍. Since you did it so fast i wanted to ask for something else.
Could you do something with a Prehistoric reader. She's from the Jurassic like Pickle, she was frozen and brought back to life like him. However she's less agressive and a bit smarter than him. I kinda saw her like a big ( dangerous ) mama Bear, who likes those tiny humans.
I trust you for the rest, you can choose if you want to write about first meeting with fighters (which i find funny in the anime by the way ), how she was during Pickle's fight or what's her interactions with the fighters ...
Thank you for reading this , bye.
I’m so glad you enjoyed it! The speed may vary depending on how easily I can visualize the prompt, since I need a solid movie in my head before putting it into words. Not very efficient but so far it’s been working haha. :’)
Baki Characters x Prehistoric! Fem Reader
Featuring Pickle’s challengers: Kaiou Retsu, Katsumi Orochi, Jack Hanma and Baki Hanma.
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Backstory
A million thoughts raced the scientists’ minds upon discovering not just one, but two subjects perfectly maintained within the saline block. Were you partners? Would it be possible or expected that you continue your ancient lineage? While the idea was incredibly tempting from a researcher’s perspective, it was equally dangerous. They considered separating the two of you in order to avoid the risk, but they soon discovered that your help was needed to protect everyone else from the enraged prehistoric man.
The female specimen seemed to have a much more docile and cooperative temperament, with strong maternal instincts. Could it be that she viewed the much smaller modern humans as children? (Y/N) wasn’t that dumb. She could very well tell that these new forms of her own image are matured, but she could also easily asses how fragile they are based on their extreme fear and helplessness against Pickle. They haven’t showed any intent to attack her or Pickle, so she had no reason to be hostile. Pickle was rather frustrated by her frequent scolding, but his expressions seemed to indicate that (Y/N) always had a kind heart towards weaker creatures and it wasn’t his first time having to satisfy her pity. He begrudgingly accepted it.
The Meeting
Truth be told, most of the men had gathered in order to measure up Pickle’s strength. And he was eager to prove it after his quick encounter with Yuujirou’s mysterious techniques. It was only when you stood up and let out a warning growl that they realized the faint beads of sweat forming on their foreheads. Pickle had immediately cleared the way and even the Ogre himself grounded his stance, ready for anything. What a majestic creature, they all thought. Feminine beauty carefully chiseled into a powerful physique, adorned with muscles that would put any bodybuilder today to shame. The same arms that lovingly cradle infants with motherly devotion could easily crush bones and twist frail bodies.
The smell of fear lingered for aggravatingly long moments. You gently placed your large hand on Yuujirou’s shoulder and used the other one to point behind him. Only then did they notice the bright helicopter lights and pleading voices asking them to evacuate. You were looking out for them.
Kaiou Retsu
He’d love to challenge you. Truly. But not only are you a woman, you’ve also never shown Pickle’s excitement for battle. He respects your decision and would never impose his wishes on you.
After his fight with Pickle, he wakes up intact and notices you standing over his wounded body. A miserable smile spreads over his face as the realization hits him: you just don’t want to harm them. That’s why you never fight.
He’s not sure what hurts most. The damage Pickle has done, or his ego after realizing that all you have for them is pity. He’s going to need to find other ways to impress you.
Retsu later catches you trying to reproduce some of his moves and wonders if he’d be allowed to teach you martial arts. Or would that make you too dangerous?
Katsumi Orochi
Unlike Retsu, the damage he’s done to his arm couldn’t be prevented. You allow Pickle to remove the limb given the extensive injury.
Like a father that just played too hard with his children, Pickle follows you around apologetically, as if explaining he had no fault in this.
Katsumi is a little shocked to find you in his hospital room. Embarrassed to be seen in such a vulnerable state by someone like you, he waves his arm frantically and rattles the sheets, mumbling explanations and reassurances. You just stare in confusion. He forgot you can’t understand language.
You wonder if he can survive with one missing limb, as back in your day this handicap could’ve proven fatal in the long run. Should you provide the food for him? The hospital staff entrusts you to deliver Katsumi his meals after they noticed you hunting in the guest garden.
You insist on helping with grooming duties like hair brushing, though Katsumi had to thoroughly gesticulate he’s not as open to being naked in front of you. Please don’t assist him when he’s changing his clothes. Let him have the last remaining bit of manliness.
Jack Hanma
How stubborn! Jack is the first one to feel your mama bear anger. After the fight with Pickle he kept coming back for more, despite being barely conscious. Pickle was becoming increasingly afraid of upsetting you and would throw you worried looks, unsure how to proceed. Eventually you put Jack in a headlock and dragged him back to the hospital yourself.
The next time Jack wakes up, he notices you standing in the door frame, arms folded and flexed in a threatening manner. He can’t help but chuckle at the view. To think that a woman would have such an iron grip on him. Well, you’re no ordinary woman.
As before, you’re unsure of his recovering abilities. You attempt to feed him yourself several times and Jack has to politely suggest that he’s not as frail as you might think. Though somewhere deep down he might secretly enjoy being spoiled like this. He’d never, ever admit it.
Baki Hanma
Baki took you through a rollercoaster of emotions; from being worried that such a tiny, young boy insists on challenging the prehistoric man to squealing in shock at his unexpected strength. You couldn’t help but wonder if you’d be able to defeat him if you were standing there instead of Pickle.
Unlike the others, Baki has no issue relying on you. In fact, he’s almost shameless about it. Absolutely he is too injured to walk! You can go ahead and carry him. He’ll quickly wrap his arms around your neck and cling to you, grinning.
I think he’d really love the idea that someone as strong as you is also kind and likable. He doesn’t have to worry about proving himself or that you’d look down on him. He’s really craving this newly fond protectiveness of a mother.
He likes teasing Pickle by holding onto you whenever he sees you. The Jurassic man has been on the edge ever since you’ve started becoming attached to these tiny humans. He almost can’t get a moment alone with you. Which makes him extra irritable. You sigh at the two menaces that find new ways to mess with you.
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lustytears · 2 months
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i wanna turn you on.
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loser!luke castellan x f!reader
summary: (title is inspired by the smashing pumpkins - today) luke castellan basically watches you from your cabin window and mutually (but not mutually) masturbates with you.
warnings: smut, luke is a bit weird. luke is giving virgin but that’s up to the reader honestly, reader gets sexualized by luke, written in mainly luke’s perspective but it does switch to the readers, masturbation, bathroom breaks (if you catch my drift from the previous tag), luke is a manipulative piece of shit but it’s very hard to know at first read.
You weren’t kidding when you had the sneaking suspicion that one had always been watching you. All of your darkest moments felt violated, invaded, or even threatened.
Maybe you thought wrong. That’s what everyone else thought when you confessed to your friends, saying that “Nobody would bother to try and watch you” or, “You’ll be fine. Camp’s safe.”
What you were unaware of was that Luke Castellan, the brave and noble leader who aspired many at camp for his dedicated devotion to his people and the gods.
Were you wrong to think otherwise?
•————————————————————————•
He was desperate. Desperate to understand you, feel you, and even taste you. His heart (as conveyed by those personal to him) was kind, logical, and even charming. He welcomed everyone who was unclaimed, and those who were claimed. The sweet little “heys” and the “hellos” are what people paid attention to. His demeanor and morality were nothing but pure.
You knew that for some reason, Luke had the right intentions. But for some part inside of you, something twisted his image into something so much more darker and malevolent.
He wasn’t dark, neither any of the things you thought. Contradicting, yes—but he couldn’t help but stare at you whenever you walked past, staring at the back of your body and sometimes your ass. He tried to snap out of it, tried so hard to keep his control, but he couldn’t help it.
He realized that you were his new obsession. Occasionally, Luke would sometimes go to the bathroom stalls to stroke his painfully rock-hard cock that leaked small beads of pre-cum, wiping onto his hand and leaking all over the base of his cock. His mind would drift to how your voice was maternally caring, sweet and dripping almost like nectar. Your lips and the way they would part open and close, rubbing them together against your pink-glossed lip gloss. The thought of the sticky consistency and shiny glow of your lips wrapped around the base of his cock as he steadily thrusted his cock hard and fast into your mouth like it was nothing but made for him would make him grip the top of the stall door.
Luke would try to feel disdained by these thoughts, try so desperately to think of other problems he had. But you were his only problem.
One day around Camp, he noticed how one of the Ares boys were sticking around you like you were some kind of fly trap. The boy would try and lift you up, slinging you over his shoulder like you were some prized possession.
“Put me down!” You laughed as you nudged your body, particularly your hips noticeable to both the boy that was carrying you and to Luke.
The Ares boy took notice of the sudden tension and put you down, before accidentally (but obviously, not totally) pushing your ass into his pelvic region when he grabbed your arms and pulled you back. You’d laugh, the impact of your ass in those little black shorts bouncing against his center drove Luke fucking insane.
Luke ended up getting one of the hardest boners ever to pain him, and he would occasionally watch your body move around, your hips swaying and the way your ass was barely fit into your outfit made him palm his cock, pretending to adjust his jeans.
On a dark night, Luke realized that you had the same routine. Specifically, it was your night routine. He didn’t expect to remember it, but he remembered one specific incident where he followed you to your cabin.
He watched as you opened the door and closed it, slamming it behind you in what may have been frustration. Then, he got the idea to get a closer look.
Luke inched near your window, crouching below the window pane just to see perfectly into the dimly visible light that instantly let him see into your own world. It was so wrong, but it was so worth knowing that the blinds were pulled up all the way, almost as if you personally wanted somebody to watch you like you were a product on display.
You walked around the room, his eyes following your every step, even when you sat down on the bed and looked through your dresser, going through the top drawer that contained your underwear and nightwear. Pulling out a black mesh nightgown, you got up and started to strip down to your bare and naked body. He carefully focused on how the t-shirt you wore hiked up above your amazingly flawless breasts. The way you pulled it off and threw it down to the bed caused the two of you to moan, unknowingly so. You seemed frustrated with something, but he was high as fuck on this moment.
His cock rubbed against the barriers holding him back, and it wasn’t getting better. When your thumb tucked underneath the waistband of your underwear and shorts, you pulled them down and off your legs. Your ass was visible for him to see, and he dared to peak his head up a little more to see how it motioned as you walked to your bed.
He expected you to put back on your nightgown, but he thought so, so fucking wrong. You flopped down your bed and pulled your legs up to show him how your pussy looked dripping wet. His mouth dropped, his hands going down to his pants and subconsciously unbuttoning them so he could stick his dick out through his boxers and thrust his half-erect cock into his fist.
But he didn’t want to touch himself just yet. He needed to see more. What more could you give? It didn’t make any sense, but it finally did when your long and slender fingers tucked under your weight, where you parted your cunt apart with two fingers in a ‘V’ shape. You moaned as the cold air hit your hot and wet pussy. Luke’s hands fumbled to pull his cock out, his eyes glued to the way you were now dipping your middle finger into your sopping wet hole. You pressed a finger into your gummy walls and started to create a rhythm along with your hips and your hand.
He rubbed the leaking pre-cum all over the tip of his cock, pretending like your thumb was doing so. He wrapped his palm around his dick and jerked himself up and down in a slow and deliberately painful manner. Your fingers moved to your clit and began to rub it in a circular motion, your lips all puffy and your eyes closed from the pleasure you were giving yourself. So much was going on for you that your back arched off the bed, and Luke’s cock was being fucked even faster from his own hand. He whined a bit louder, involuntarily thrusting into his own hand. The both of you could sense your own respective releases, and it wasn’t slowing down anytime sooner.
Luke would whisper his name to his own self, pretending like it was you who was calling it out through the muffled sounds of your moans inside of your cabin. Your legs twitched and two fingers were now deep and invasive inside of your tight cunt.
He hoarsely whispered to himself. “Fuck, I’m gonna cum so hard all for you,” softly swearing as he could feel his own semen dripping out of his cock and lubricating his fist.
Your fingers worked harder, and your clit was getting rubbed to the point where it felt like it was numb for pleasure. You let out a steady and sharp moan, lifting your ass off of the mattress and pumping now three digits into your pretty and pink pussy. He watched you, all goggly and eyes wide like he’d miss one second of you. He couldn’t waste the opportunity to miss you cum.
Luke was now practically moaning and hyperventilating as he let out a sigh and came all over the place. Webs of white and hot cum coated his overstimulated cock and the fist of his hand. You followed along, cumming and tightening all around your fingers as you vocally expressed one of the best moans one could ever experience in an orgasm.
All tired and weak, your legs fell down against the bed as your swollen clit pulsated from such intensity.
With realization, Luke snapped his eyes down to see the mess he made just crouching below your window. He groaned, shaking his hand to get rid of some of the cum that was on his hand. His cock was now soft and finally pleased, so he tucked his cock right back into his boxers and pulled up his jeans, remaining low and among the bushes before he know it was safe to walk alone.
When Luke was approached by a wandering cabin mate, he’d just make an excuse.
“Couldn’t sleep. Had to kill time,” knowing damn well with a smile that you just solved his nightly frustrations.
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greycaelum · 10 months
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Kaleidoscope Series—Clouds and Mochi Chapters { Blue }
—Gojo Satoru X Wife Reader
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𑁍 Synopsis: a date with Satoru and finally knowing your Sunshine's gender
𑁍 Genre: family theme, fluff, very mild angst if you squint, comfort
𑁍 CW/TW: (2.6k)—pregnancy, domesticity, suggestive content, kisses, mild profanity, mentions of pregnancy fear, overall fluff
𑁍 Grey ✒️☕: this chapter is dedicated for { @afortoru } thank you for being here pretty one, I'm delighted to meet you and know you even in such short time! So for now let this be your bookmark in this lil'corner and my good luck charm for you —XOXO
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Satoru diligently packed several tumblers of the chilled fresh orange juice in the bag along with some packed lunch and oranges. He knows how cute you look whenever your cravings are satisfied. After all, no one wants a grumpy pregnant wifey.
Now, he just has to wait for you to get ready, so both of you can go.
Having two children, naughty ones at that, and with an incoming one or more, people often wondered how the two of you are doing in your marriage. Hopeless as he is, Satoru knows he's often away and he has to make up for it.
"Love, helpppp!" You hollered from upstairs sending him to a mini heart attack, traversing the kitchen to the bedroom in one warp.
There you are standing in front of the mirror in a powder blue maternity jumper dress, holding a pair of socks with a pout on your lips. He could see the little beads of sweat forming on your temples, telling your struggle before you called out for him. Your 26 weeks bump, which he could say is a little bigger than usual, is making it harder for you to bend.
Pretty little thing. You're gonna make him crazy with your antics. 
"Really? We're inside the house and you go warping around?"
"Well, someone's trying to give me a scare with her bloody scream." Satoru chuckles and takes the sock in your hand, guiding you by the hip to the nearby chair while he kneels and holds your swollen foot.
He has seen you swollen with his child two times and still seeing you waddling around with your pretty baby bump gets his nerves giddy and his heart fluttering.
"What are you grinning about, Love?" You owlishly blinked at him.
"Mnnn, that you're really beautiful." Satoru smiled. And he meant it, so much that after all these years he thinks his crush on you never faded. The way you giggled at his compliment as he kisses the peak of your bump is so calming he wants to keep you in his arms all day long.
But that's for another time. He's got plans for you today.
"Could you now tell me where we are going?" You stare at Satoru and huff. He never told you anything about this date. Only telling you to dress comfortably and dragging you to walk somewhere you don't know.
"Later you'll see."
Your arm loosely hang around Satoru's waist, while the other held your orange juice occasionally sharing a sip with Satoru while waiting for the green lights at the crossroads. Satoru held your shoulders to keep you from bumping into anything, while his other arm carried your bag.
From time to time gazes fall on the two of you, walking past the neighborhood. It's not usual to see a couple walking around leisurely. Satoru paired your look with his loose white button-up shirt tucked in his blue chinos and a pair of white topsider going for a cutesy blue and white palette for your date.
"Oh, is that your first? Such beautiful parents for a little one." One of the grandmothers in the neighborhood greeted the two of you. Walking around, there are times pleasant people greet you for small talk, especially seeing you with a baby.
"Thank you, it's actually the third." Satoru grinned proudly, his hand that was on your shoulder slid down to rub your belly.
Show off. You snorted and thanked the lovely lady.
"Really 'Toru, where are you going?" It's not the usual district you go strolling around. It's been a while since you had a walk around the town. Being swollen and pregnant easily exhausts you, opting you to be a couch potato in the house after sending off the kids to school.
Satoru knows that that's why he arranged this little excursion for the two of you. Away from looking after the kids, and just simply as a couple.
"We're..." Satoru trailed off and halted in front of a tall building. "Here it is, ta-dah!"
"Palettes & Paint" you read the artistic signboard of a cozy-looking cafe with floor-to-ceiling window walls and inside is a vintage brown vibe space.
You let him pull you in, donning the apron over you, and sat on a corner with different kinds of paint and paper. While you're not particularly inclined to do this, watching Satoru focused on his canvas, mixing paint and all is a sight in itself. Besides you are snacks and some creamy drinks Satoru ordered.
"Why painting, Love?" Mindlessly you brush the stray hair over Satoru's forehead and propped your elbow to support your cheeks.
"Nothing, just thought it'd be nice for Sunshine to enjoy art." Satoru turned to you and grinned. "You're staring, Baby"
"Uh-huh, which baby do you mean?." You smiled and went back to your canvas.
"My first Baby."
Satoru inches closer and press a kiss on your cheeks, and went back to his work with a boyish grin. Satoru watch your lips pursed, hiding the smile blooming on your face.
"I'm going for a doctor's appointment, they said we can finally see the gender. Do you have time this Friday, Love?" Carefully you draw a cute snout on your painting.
Satoru has been looking forward to this moment. Kouki and Saika have been bantering about the little one's gender. For Satoru, he is fine in any way, he's just so happy right now that he can't think much of the gender. 
"Of course, I need to be there. What do you think of our Sunshine's gonna be?"
Your hand froze, and setting down your brush you look at the painting you made. It's a cute white wolf, with equally blue eyes as Satoru has.
"A boy... I guess." You chuckled lightly. Poor Saika if that ever happens, she'll have a riot every day with all the boys in the house.
A boy huh? Satoru brushed his chin.
Lately, he has been visioning a little girl looking so much like you. Crawling all around the house. Saika and Kouki would fawn at her so much, knowing those two were asking for a sibling that has your hair. And he too, wants to see a baby looking so much like you.
"Love? You're spacing out."
Satoru snaps out of it and laughs to himself. Thoughts of babies with you are his distraction.
"I think it's a girl."
"Really?" You laughed. "Kouki's gonna be overpowered by his sisters."
Looking at you right now. Glowing and happy like this, he thinks that maybe he should bring you out more often. There's that trend going on about a babymoon. Going to the ocean with you and the kids sounds nice. But he thinks that if he sees you in a bikini, Satoru would go batshit feral. Seeing his wife is all sexy and pregnant with his baby, even for him is too much.
You're the best mother for the kids and the best wife to him. Always making sure the house is ready when they get home. Arranges stuff that he can't handle in the Gojo Estate. Your patience must be that of a saint, knowing Satoru is often away and you have to deal with more than you can handle. Having obligations is already enough, but watching over two kids as well...
You're really strong and smart to handle it all and still love him without hating his lacking.
"We should go together in your Lamaze classes." Satoru brush away the stray hair on your cheeks. "I only got to do it thrice with you."
Once with Kouki, and twice with Saika. His schedule back then was such a mess that even on weekends he has work. Satoru's eyes landed on your baby bump.
But for this little one, time couldn't be more perfect with the relatively peaceful period.
"Oh, by the way, what are you drawing Love?"
"Hmmm?" Satoru showed you his canvas. "Hey! What's with your constipated face? This is art y'know!"
"No matter what you say it looks more horrible than a grade 3 student's doodle." Perhaps it's time Satoru accepts the only thing he's good at mixing colors is his curse techniques.
You promised the two munchkins that you'll pick them up from school after the doctor's appointment. Satoru has to slip in a little more bribing just to ease up the two cats who were ready to sulk after hearing they can't come with you to see their baby sibling.
"Hi Mrs. Gojo, are you ready to know your baby's gender?"
It was a split second but you certainly felt someone stiffened. You turned to see Satoru smiling at you, except that his forehead is a little sweaty even with the air conditioning.
Silly one...
The sonographer applied the gel and the transducer and let you relax. Satoru held your hand, while his eyes are so focused on the monitor. The sonographer is explaining the position of the baby.
"Is that the eyes?" Satoru's jaws fell open. "He just opened his eyes!" Satoru looks at you, shock written all over his face. You could swear he grew pale by several degrees. You have to hold his hand a little tighter because Satoru is too blown away that he doesn't notice his palms are sweating coldly.
"Ah yes, the baby's eyes are partially open by 26 weeks, but don't worry it's not yet the final shade of his eyes." The sonographer kindly explains this to your flabbergasted husband.
"Hey, Love. Are you okay? You're so pale." You chuckled as Satoru brought the back of your palms to his lips, kissing it over and over again. It's not like it's his first time, but damn does it makes him so nervous.
Seems like the sonographer can tell as she finally asks the question.
"Would you like me to write down the gender—" but the sonographer froze all of a sudden, all eyes glued to the screen.
"Uhm, is that another head am I seeing?" You blinked several times to confirm your vision.
"Uh, I think we need a second opinion here." The sonographer looks at you, nodding at your question.
There are cases of pregnancies where you're pregnant, and got pregnant again, maybe days or weeks apart, but certainly carrying two babies at the same time. There are very rare cases called superfetation. In most cases, it was made possible by artificial reproductive technology, but yours was simply a miracle.
"So I'm technically pregnant at the same time, but it's not twins?" You look at your ob-gyne. The fear starts to creep in with the sudden revelation.
"Yep, that is right. And judging from your ultrasound, they're growing one week apart. The little one here has successfully hidden behind the older one until now." Your doctor smiled at you.
Satoru has been listening, and he's blown away by this.
"What do we need to do to keep my wife and babies safe? Complications? Treatments? Does she need medicines? Listen the money doesn't matter. I just need my wife and kids, safe." He's adamant about this. Desperate is an understatement. There's no way he'll gamble about you or his kids.
"Love calm down." You reach for his hand. Even if your mind is reeling too.
"To be honest, the thing that we should look out for most is the babies' growth. The older one may be ready for birth while the younger one is still not. But seeing that they're only one week apart, that lessens our worries." You Ob-Gyne assured you with a bright smile. "I know this sounds very daunting, but despite this unseen situation, it's possible for both babies to be born fully developed and completely healthy."
Several thoughts are running through Satoru's head. This is fine, he has to support you. This is totally fine. There are cases of mothers pregnant with four kids at the same time. That's right, he should be more mindful so he can keep an eye on you and your delicate situation.
But damn, were his little swimmers that strong to get you pregnant twice? Guess, staying up all night romping on the bed really did a number on you.
Flick
"Owww!" Satoru rubs his forehead and looks at you, your brow raised at him.
"Seems like Mr. Gojo is too excited to even listen." Your OB chuckled and opened a small paper. "So, would you like to hear the gender?"
"Can you just write it Doc? We wanna open it with our kids." Feeling the way Satoru grips your palms. You couldn't agree more with him. Satoru discussed more with the doctor while you waited. He was meticulous about your vitamins and symptoms he should look out for. Seeing him going through almost everything somehow eases your nerves.
But really you're scared. Can you handle two children at the same time? What if you can do it? You'll end up neglecting one or the other, or your body can't take all at once that you'll—
"Shhh, I'm right here." Satoru brought your head to his chest, feeling the reality sinking in as the clinic doors close. "I'm right here, Baby."
You nodded, just listening to Satoru's heartbeat and cooing until your emotions and hormones calm down.
Leaving the hospital you're feeling clammy with the sudden news. You're never ready for this. Is this why you're more adept at your cravings? Or feeling more clingy with Satoru in the morning... 
The chauffer discreetly pulled up the partition to give his madame and sire privacy.
"Baby." Satoru brought you out of your trance. "The kids are in the house, do you want me to pick up a cake or something on our way?"
You nodded absentmindedly. Satoru could see your thoughts are still suspended in the air.
"I know this is scary for you, for us. But I couldn't wish for more, and just so y'know, I would do everything in my power to protect you, the mother of my kids, and these little ones here." Satoru protectively laid his palm over your belly, caressing the bump before pressing a soft kiss on your lips. "And you two in there, better not give okaa-chan a hard time or else otou-chan's not gonna share my strawberry daifuku with you anymore." Satoru huffs seriously.
It's gonna be alright...
Your lat your head on Satoru's shoulder, inhaling his scent. This time he really did took a bath with the soap you gave him, so he's not stinky.
"I want to eat chiffon cake 'Toru. I'm so hungry."
"Hai, hai, anything for you Honey."
"And we should make a bet, the loser will change the diapers."
"Yes Ma'am." Satoru shakes his head. Even if he wins he knows he'll be the one to change the diapers anyway.
The car didn't even pull up but the front door busted open with Kouki and Saika running to greet you both.
"Mama! Mama! How was it? Is it a sister?"
"It's a brother, right Mama?"
Satoru ushered you three inside the house while holding the chiffon cake.
Kouki immediately ran to the genkan and help you out on your slipper while Saika held your hand to keep your balance. Kouki did the same for his Papa.
"Mama are you okay? Does it hurt anywhere?" Sai look at you with a worried look on her face as she climbs on the couch beside you.
"I have orange juice Mama," Kouki ran to the kitchen bringing you a tumbler of chilled fresh orange juice immediately lightening your mood.
"Mama's fine, sweetie. Thank you sweetheart. You see, Mama and Papa has a surprise for you!"
You glance at Satoru bringing out the cake with a lit candle on it. Totally unnecessary but who are you to question your husband's shenanigans? Even if you said no, he'll do it anyways.
You brought out the envelope from the ob-gyne and the kids are squealing in excitement. Kouki clung to your arm so tight and Saika was giggling as she waved at her Papa to sit down.
"Let's see." Satoru set the cake down on the table and joined the huddle, putting Saika on his lap while Kouki curled under your arm.
"It's a girl..." Saika gasp.
"It's a boy!" Kouki cheered.
They were jumping up and down, realization finally sinking in until they stopped and looked at you and their Papa smiling so wide.
"Why is it two?!" They chorused.
You hit Satoru's chest, keeping your laughter contained, while Satoru chuckled sweeping in to kiss you senseless.
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—GreyCaelum
PLAGIARISM IS A CRIME
Check out the Masterlist for more
All rights and credits of the Jujutsu Kaisen character(s) mentioned images(s) and songs(s) used, belongs to their respective owner(s)
General/Kaleidoscope Series Taglist: @ice-icebaby @aeanya @gummy-dummy @tender-rosiey
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mavrintarou · 4 months
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[Daddes in December] Bachira Meguru
Meguru is so daddy, tell me otherwise.
Warning: aged-up Meguru, smut
.
At any given time, Meguru’s large hands are always fondling your breasts. While you’re cooking, while you’re brushing your teeth, while you’re both trying to watch a movie, and especially during sex. It was his comfort, he needed to cup your tits to sleep.
It was inevitable.
At first, you found his obsession with your breasts an annoyance. Meguru acted without any regard for filters or awareness of the consequences of his actions, doing whatever he pleased. He would forget you guys are in public and before you knew, his hand was already cupping your breast in front of your friends and or family.
After much coaching and reminding, he was able to control his urges in public.
It wasn’t until you became pregnant with his child that his obsession with your tits increased and you were able to use it to your advantage.
At seven months pregnant, your breast ached and Meguru was the only one who could massage it to your liking.
When he discovered that you began to lactate, his yellow eyes glowed. His lips latched onto a nipple and before you could stop him, he was already suckling, enjoying the liquid being extracted.
“Hmm,” he groans, switching over to the other side. His fingers tweaked at the wet puckered nipple he just abused.
The back of your hand covers your mouth but it doesn’t muffle the moan escaping. Your libido has increased tremendously with your pregnancy and Meguru assisted to the best of his abilities every time.
“Megu –“ you cried out, cumming from the mere suckling of his mouth. “Wait… no –“
His hand tugged at your maternity pants, the damp wetness on your panties had him grinning from ear to ear. “You came just from me suckling? Dirty girl.” He licks the corner of his mouth, licking away the breast milk that smeared all over his face. His finger dipped into your pussy, making you moan.
“Please… Megu… your cock… just your cock… fill me…”
“Yes, my love, anything you want.” He tugged his joggers down enough to free his cock and pulls you up to straddle his thighs. With your bulging belly in the way, he guides you to settle onto his cock, filling you exactly how you wanted.
His breath shakes as he chuckles, pressing his forehead against your chest. “You feel so good wrapped around my cock. So perfect… I can just stay inside of you all day.”
“Meguru… need you to massage my breasts…” you begged, watching the tips of your nipples leaking with beads of milky fluid.
“Ah, yes… sorry love, I got distracted.” He reached for your breasts, squeezing them and flinching when they squirt at his shirt. “Woah!” he squeezed again, amazed.
You leaned back, rolling your hips slightly. “Yes – that feels amazing.”
Meguru’s grip on your breast tightens as he thrusts upward, rocking deep into you. “Ah – Y/n…” he collapses back onto the couch, groaning as he fills your pussy. “Love cumming inside you…” He stares at your chest, “is it normal for you to produce milk already?”
“Yes, I’m getting closer to the end of the pregnancy, my body is preparing for the baby.”
Meguru pouted, “so I have to share?”
.
It was futile.
You just go about your business as you nurse your daughter on your left breast and Meguru on your right.
. . .
E/n: short but nasty lol
>>> @queenelleee @mfreedomstuff @erintaro @callmeraider @chaotic-fangirl-blog @wolffmaiden @cloud-lyy
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rudysrings · 1 year
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Neteyam x fem!Omaticaya!reader
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Blurb: Neteyam is aged up, maybe 20-22, reader the same age. Neteyam and the reader have always been close, with an unspoken relationship and expectation that they will be mates when the time comes. When it does, however, things don't quite go as planned.
Warnings: Angst lol
At first, you paid no mind. It’s not that it didn’t matter to you, but you were secure in yourself and who you knew you were to Neteyam to be bothered by the rushed questions, the eager “Has he asked you yet?”s and the “How will he do it?”s. You only smiled coyly and shrugged, and if they pushed, you merely said you had work to do. As your people’s youngest, most prominent healer (aside from Tsahik Mo’at) during wartime, there truly always were wounds to be tended to and medicinal herbs to be prepared.
You considered what you and the soon to be Olo’eyktan of the Omaticaya had to be sacred. It was unspoken, heavy, tangible, but also easy, grounding and reliable, which is what made it all the more significant for the two of you. Speaking it into existence, especially to those outside the bubble the pair of you had fortified over your entire lives, almost felt to cheapen the entire thing. You knew. He knew. There was not a single doubt. Until there was.
Soon, the questions took a crueler turn; in fact, they didn’t even stay direct questions, but became rumored whispers. “If he has not asked her yet, then he must seek someone else. Who has he chosen?” And honest to Eywa, the first few times this got around to you, you only chuckled. People would talk. It was only natural. They were anxious to see what their future clan leader would do, and you knew it had nothing to do with you, or what lay in the future for you and Neteyam. You had no doubt he would ask soon, after all, his own mother had instructed him to make his bow from the wood of the fallen hometree and choose a woman many eclipses ago. Until you did.
It didn’t happen overnight. But you didn’t notice until one night. When the oldest Sully boy came back from a hunt, he only ever came to your healing tent or to Tsahik Mo’ats. This night, however, for the first time in you couldn’t remember how long, he entered the tent of a healer you could not even recall the name of. And all of a sudden, you realized you hadn’t put those beads in his hair, and they didn’t look like the ones the Neytiri would make either. You couldn’t remember the last time he had asked you to ride your ikrans to the one mountain the two of you frequented. Come to think of it, he hadn’t spoken to you since he had made his bow.
He wasn’t yours.
“What is it, my girl?” It wasn’t until Neytiri put a hand on your shoulder that you realized hot tears had made tracks across your humiliated face. As much as she represented a maternal figure to you and many other in your tribe, you couldn’t bear to speak your realization to the mother of your problem. Eyes glazed, you try to will them away and muttered some excuse of a tear inducing herb irritating your eyes and turned, making your way back into your tent.
Anger.
The next few days, your sorrow quickly turned into anger. How could things change for him just like that? And even if they did? Not a single word to you? That was the first time you regretted never putting a label on things between the two of you, even if it reduced the intimacy of what you had into a teenage relationship, at least he would have the responsibility of owing you an explanation before basically writing you out of his life. Even without all that, you couldn’t fathom the thought that he would simply not consider you worthy of a measly explanation. Clearly you did not know him as the person he actually was.
And that’s what broke your heart further. The final wound—that the Neteyam you knew and was oh so, inexplicably dear to you…wasn’t true, didn’t exist, must have been a fantasy.
Your friends worried. You were withdrawn, quietly and consistently turning over the events of your lives and figuring out when you had wrongly created this dream of the two of you making a life together, and when he decided to stop entertaining it. You always came up with nothing. For the life of you, you could not taint the memories you had made. Even if they really were rose-colored glasses, you couldn’t bring yourself to see him any other way.
You ached all the time. Mentally, even physically. You slept way later into the morning, but also had trouble falling asleep to begin with. It almost felt like along with your heart, every joint in your body broke, and you didn’t know if it would ever get better, despite your best friends constant insistence that this too would pass.
One day, Tsahik Mo’at instructed you to venture further than usual for certain herbs to keep from depleting the supply in your area. Woven satchel in hand, you made your way out, grateful for the alone time in a new area to stimulate your mind to keep from your constant straying thoughts.
You found a clove of what you were looking for, collecting them as you walked, not even looking up past the soil you walked on anymore you were so focused.
“You’re not supposed to come this far.”
You nearly shrieked, almost jumping out of your skin. You turned to see the very object of all of the thoughts you had been avoiding stood leaning against some sort of man-made bunker overgrown with greenery. Neteyam had spoken of this. Of the place that had sheltered his father’s human body while his Avatar roamed free. You knew it’s significance and you knew he had no business here either. “Neither are you, last time I checked,” you narrowed your eyes, your guard up.
Neteyam chuckled, brushing it off. There was a moment of silence where you both just took each other in. You had avoided him with such determination that you had almost forgot what he looked like and the effect it had on you.
“Spirits, you are still perfect,” he said, breathless, but still audible to you.
You scoffed, “What makes you think you can say that?” Your hands shook and your body vibrated with fury and defensiveness.
Neteyam’s eyebrows furrowed and he straightened, walking towards you.
You immediately put a hand out, “No, don’t come any closer.” And because you just couldn’t help it, you spat out, “You can’t just come and go as you please, even if you are the future eyktan.”
He paused, searching for something in your eyes, and gradually came to some sort of realization. “You think I wanted this?”
“Didn’t you?” you challenged.
“No,” he shook his head, coming closer again, grabbing onto your outstretched hand with both of his and stepping into it, head bowed so that your hand made contact with his bare chest, his eyes on you, your own eyes looking at your entwined hands. “I did not want this.” When you refused to look at him, still, you watched as he descended to his knees, you still barely taller than him.
You met his eyes; you saw them filled with emotion. “If you asked what I truly want, y/n, it is an entire lifetime with you. You must know this.”
Your breath came faster, confusion clouding your vision. “What are you saying?”
“You are what I most desire, y/n. Only you.”
Your entire body relaxed, and you sunk to the forest floor, knees together. You whimpered, “Then why, ‘Teyam?”
Neteyam nearly purred at the nickname, bringing his hand up to stroke your cheek with his thumb, “Because I also have a duty to fulfill. And you would be the mightiest Tsahik the people would ever see, know that I truly believe that.”
You exhaled, your palms instinctively reaching for his chest, right over his racing heart. The feel and familiar rhythm grounding you like nothing else.
“But I am also selfish. And I know what the pain and danger that mating with me brings. Not only would you be a target because of your status as Tsahik, but also because of my father. Our family will never escape the danger of the Skypeople, and I refuse to put you in that position. If…If something happened to you, y/n, Eywa, I have imagined it a thousand times over…” unashamed, a tear fell down his face. “It would end me, my love. I cannot know that loss..I cannot, I cannot,” he looked down, whispering it over and over again.
Your chest ached at seeing him so torn, but you knew you had to stand your ground. He had to realize the effect this had on you. You held his face in your hands, quieting him. “Ma Neteyam, I have felt this loss a thousand times worse,” he immediately flinched, looking up at your sorrowful face.
“I had believed all my life that Eywa made you for me and I for you,” at that he offered a small smile. “And when the time came, you rejected me. Whether your intentions were pure or not, for many eclipses now, I have lived in a world where the very person I was born for did not want me. And that loss, you must understand, is far worse than Eywa taking us away from each other, because there is no reason to be woven into it. It is only loss.”
Neteyam took in your words, hands on your knees. Ashamed, he turned away, “I have hurt you so much,” he closed his eyes, dipping his forehead to your shoulder, whispering, “Can you ever forgive me, beloved?”
His pet names were slowly coaxing the old you from the empty, defensive shell you had become, this last one nearly melting you into his arms.
You kissed your teeth, resigning. This was not your war. You wanted this, and you would not punish him more than he deserved. You inched closer, giving him time to lean back as you straddled him, his hands immediately going to your hips, that beautiful face looking at you in confusion and utter nervousness, as if you held the weight of his life in your next words.
You tilted forwards, your lips slanting over his. “I see you, Neteyam. It is already forgotten.”
His breath hitched, but you didn’t give him a chance to respond, because you moved your lips against his. Your first kiss. Not at all how you expected, tasting of the salt of your combined tears, but still as perfect and unreal as you dreamed. His eyes fluttered closed as he moved a hand to your jaw, guiding you into a deeper kiss. You grew hungrier, your toes curling at the sensation. All you could process was the feel of his fingers digging into your waist, holding you as if he was afraid to let go, every inch of your front pressed against his so that you felt his heartbeat through all of your skin. You hoped he felt yours, too.
He stopped you for a second, you chasing his retreating mouth, drawing a grin from him as he licked his swollen lips, both of you panting. He just looked at you, head cocked, smile soft.
“What?” you asked, nuzzling his nose. “Nothing,” he shook his head. “Everything.” His smile fell as his gaze became serious, with an intensity you had never seen before. He held your jaw, gentle but rigid, “I see you, Ma y/n.”
You couldn’t have predicted the effect those words would have on you. They fell off his tongue with such ease, but you quite literally purred. Your arms encircled his neck and you simply embraced him, cherishing the feel of your skin on his and letting the warmth flow between you. “I pray to Eywa I will always feel as content as I do right now.” You leaned back to meet his eyes, “I cannot wait for the day we make it official, ‘Teyam.”
His eyes darkened with desire, “Neither can I, my love.”
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Week One: Introduction!
@encanto-extended-edition
OMG how have I never done a proper introduction of my girl??? Anyways…
Full name: Angela Leilani Yaamil Morales Estrada
Age at the time of the movie: 48 years old (December 8th, 1901)
Angel was initially a name holder for the reader insert in my fic, “Why did it have to be me?” She was never intended to become a full fledged OC, but thanks to several supportive friends, Angela evolved into what she is now.
Angela is born to parents Guillermo and Anamaria in 1901, and shortly after childbirth, Anamaria sadly passes away, leaving Angela to be raised primarily by Anamaria’s parents, Quinuama and Raymundo. She is the youngest of six cousins on her maternal side, and she knows very little about her father’s extended family. The passing of Anamaria puts Guillermo in an inconsolable depression, leaving his daughter to be brought up by her grandparents due to his emotional absence. Her family owns and runs a tailoring shop in the Encanto, renowned for their fine fiber arts and beautifully crafted clothes. Angela is best known for her impressive bead work and crocheting, as she enjoys fixating on tiny details.
At age five, she befriends the Madrigal triplets, the four of them becoming close companions, but especially between Angela and Bruno. The two of them grow close over the years, considering the other to be their best friend. I’ll save the juicy details of their companionship for Week two, but to summarize, their friendship takes a dramatic twist following the breakup of Angela and her fiancé when she is 19.
Following in her mother’s footsteps, she joins the church choir at a young age, and quickly blossoms into a vocal star, devoting her time to organizing musical events and writing songs. Later in life, she takes to traveling outside of the Encanto, something inside her yearning to know more about the world and escape the limitations she feels trapped in. She gains herself a notable reputation as a performer in multiple social clubs and lounges, her name taking her across South America, and eventually across the sea.
Angela’s personality and mannerisms are based a lot on my own. She is extremely caring and compassionate for others, but often has a hard time deciphering her own emotions, and will usually bottle up her complicated feelings to save herself from causing trouble. She is often lovingly criticized as being overly dramatic by her family and friends, causing her to become extremely cautious and anxious about how she presents herself to others. Sometimes, something small will set off her temper, and she gets very cold and unresponsive as a defense mechanism, or if something makes her deeply upset after a buildup of repressed feelings and stress, she will fall apart into tears. Often times, her stimming gets interpreted as flirtatious behavior, and her attempts at masking usually have the same effect (hair twirling, too much eye contact, smiling and nodding).
A few little bits of information and trivia:
The bracelet she is almost always seen wearing was gifted to her on her fifth birthday. It had originally belonged to her mother. It is made up of pearls, jade, and a thin gold chain. Her rosary is constructed of similar materials.
Leilani was her intended name in canon, as Guillermo wanted to name her after his mother, but Anamaria immediately called her baby ‘her angel’ when she was born, so the name Angela was chosen instead and Leilani was bestowed as her second name.
I imagine her voice sounding like that of Angela Aguilar when she’s younger, and evolving into a vocal powerhouse like Beyoncé or Selena.
She is terrible at cooking. Her grandmother and aunts had tried to ingrain the kitchen skills into her at a young age, but it stressed her out because she wasn’t naturally gifted in it. She can make a good cup of coffee, but it’s best to leave to crafting of fine foods in the hands of someone more capable and confident.
💖Some amazing art from some amazing people💖
@prophetic-hijinks @egofan4evr @lvnamuraart @dororoxpenana 💖
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rosyjn · 9 months
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Dilf!Jake w his little halloween traditions from earth (no smut🙄)
You rest under the weaved roof of your tent, holding your baby against your chest. His soft coos mix in with the sound of soft wind blowing on Pandora.
"Lawnol a mì te’lan," you sing softly, almost whispering. Jake's ears perk from outside. He sits quaintly on his knees, parallel to the entrance of the tent. His pupils dilate as he turns his head and peeks at you and his son. His eyes burn into the side of your head.
You don't notice. You don't catch him admiring the way your eyes stare lovingly at your boy, or at how the beads in your hair sit perfectly and compliment your features. Your beautiful baby, Neteyam, relaxes in your arms while you stroke his head with your thumb.
"Ngaru irayo seiyi ayoe," you sing another line of your songcord, closing your eyes in peace with your child. Jake's heart flutters. You slowly swivel your body, ensuring to keep Neteyam asleep. You rise up from the ground and tip toe to the baby cradle. A sharp inhale leaves your mouth as you set him down, sighing as he squirms in his sleep.
Your head snaps around as something scurries past the entrance of the tent. You kneel to the ground, peering out. Your ears perk up as you hear the scraping and cutting of wood. A maternal instinct kicks in. Your pupils contract.
Your feet tap on the floor lightly as you scoot towards the noise, turning around after every few steps to check on Neteyam. You push the flaps of the tent away and put your eyes on Jake. He sits and holds an ovular shaped piece of wood, carving it attentively with his adorned dagger. The expression on his face is concentrated. His brows are furrowed and he grinds his teeth.
You sigh in relief and scamper to him, like a spider. He looks up when he sees you, his face softening.
"Ma'Jake, you scared me," you take a knee next to him and place your hand on his broad shoulder. His hair is tied back and he brushes off his craft with his fingers, catching your attention. Your eyes widen as you stare at it in awe. It is shaped like a strange face, hollowed out on the inside, having an eye-like droopy feature with holes and a saggy mouth.
"How's my beautiful baby mama?" he smiles and watches your face, but you don't look up.
"I did not know you were an artisan, a maker of crafts," you reach out and rub the item. "What do you call this?" your voice is filled with wonder and curiosity. You are thrilled by Jake's new creation.
"On Earth, around this time, the sky people have a celebration. Called Halloween. We eat sweets and...dress up. Look," he holds it up to his face, making it look like he has long eyes and a droopy mouth. Your ears fold back and you laugh. Jake takes it down and looks at it, then drops it in his lap.
"This is a mask, um," he struggles to explain the concept to you. A native Na'vi would not understand this easily, but you try your best. "We have a lot of characters and stories on earth. So we make masks and clothes to be them, this mask is a ghost face, like aungia," he picks it up, giving you a second to look at it.
"Eltur tìtxen si!" you grab it from his hand. You think it is so beautiful. Often, sky people and their ideas upset you. They are very violent and close-minded to you. But this was different. A unique celebration that they had. You never saw anyone else talk about it, but you were intrigued.
"You put it on your face, to pretend," Jake tells you. You listen to him and hold it up, turning your face to him. He chuckles and looks down at the ground.
"We'll make a small one, for Neteyam! And then we'll pick berries and eat sweets!" you're jumping with excitement as you take the mask off and hold it up against your chest. Jake nods in approval, with a smile that reaches his eyes.
"We'll have to share the food, too. Give it out to other people," he says.
"Of course! Even better," you sigh and lean into his arms, setting the mask aside.
(Sorry y’all this was really bad)
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minevn · 4 months
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Here is Minato's new reference! He's gotten quite the update! And the blank ref sheet is below for your lovely ocs!
I kept his hair style the same, but wanted to add a bit more to it. His little hair vent is always that blue. For the ends of his hair I used the same blue color and put it to multiply and then lowered the opacity to 42%. I thought it could use a bit of color. I made his eyes more neutral rather then giving him siren or doe eyes, and his eyes are the same yellow. I added more accessories, gifts from his grandparents! Hair clips to keep his hair out of his face when fishing, a diy shell necklace, a pearl bracelet and then another bracelet with pearls, wood beads, a turtle charm, and a dog tag. He also has an aquamarine ring. In almost all of his outfits his grandma has added embroidery or helped patch up any ripped outfits. He usually tucks his shirts in, grandpa style. He now has two scars instead of one. One on his jaw to cheek and one on his forehead. He looks more approachable and acts more approachable too! His personality got the biggest change.
He still looks intimidating at first glance due to his stature, but he's often seen with a smile and helping others out! He's known for being reliable. I always wanted him to have guard dog vibes, and he sort of was, but without the dog, so I added a more dog vibe to him. He's just a silly man. He is still the least yandere, I'd say he's not even yandere anymore, he's like bordering on that line though. Tbf I'm not sure he was ever really yandere, but now I'm more sure he's not. Just a clingy, protective boyfriend malewife babygirl. He still has trauma of course, but he's doing better, he's not alone, he has his grandparents and now he has you, although that doesn't stop the memories from resurfacing.
Here's more info!
Height: 6'5 or 195.6cm
Birthday: 8/16
Likes: Fishing, the ocean(Everything about it), dogs, helping others, his grandparents, you
Dislikes: His loved ones being in danger, feeling useless, confrontation, alcohol, his scars, his father, hospitals, the smell of sick people
Family: Mother(deceased), Father(arrested), Maternal Grandfather, Maternal Grandmother, Dog(A corgi named after his mother, Shizuki)
Signature Color: Blue (Like the ocean. Blue also compliments his eye color so he wears it a lot)
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Iwaizumi Hajime × Reader
~~A loving hand to hold for eternity~~
The soft glow of the morning sun trickled through the window, and it casted a comforting light across the nursery. 
In front of the crib sat a man whose face contorted in concentration, the warm sunrays streaming over his striking features. A slight bead of sweat glistened under the sunlight as Hajime taped the edges of the soft carpet in place so it would not be a tripping hazard.
The view of your husband's face made you sigh in bliss while your hands tenderly caressed the gentle curves of your growing belly.
Being in the ripe month meant you had limited mobility, and you were unable to assist your husband with completing the nursery. However, he was very much happy to take on the task by himself, ensuring that the room was not short of perfection.
You and Hajime chose everything in the nursery with the utmost care and consideration.
From the floating clouds made out of polyester stuffing that's naturally hypoallergenic to ensuring the wooden crib was free of splints and that the frames on the walls were secured in place. Every minute details. Every corner. Every single thing in the room was planned and inspected the nth time with scrutiny. Making certain that it will be a sanctuary of safety, warmth and comfort for your little one.
Once Hajime had secured the carpet in place, he stepped back and stood beside the sofa you were sitting on to take in the full view of the nursery.
The pastel-painted walls bathed the room in whimsy and wonder and made the ambience feel mellowly sweet. You were quite proud of yourself for choosing those pair of soft, light-toned shades.
Seeing the nursery ready for occupation caressed your hearts with excitement and joy for an angel that will soon bathe your lives in laughter and light.
You hear your husband sigh in elation at the sight before you, and you fondle his arm lovingly. The gesture made his heart jump in glee, and he proceeded to kiss the top of your head before kneeling in front of you.
His warm eyes that you adored stare into your orbs with tenderness, and you loved that the forest of olives in his irises always held a solemn promise of an eternal springtime. Hajime loves your eyes just the same and how they always sparkled in merriment. It was like the stars were within his reach every time he gazed into yours.
His hand rested on top of your baby bump as he stared at your beautiful face. Your little one must have felt his father's presence because you both felt a movement from within your belly as if to say hello.
Your baby thrived on attention. It loves expressing its presence to both of you by kicking relentlessly. Hajime jokes it's probably going to somersault its way out of you. Too excited to see the world. 
"Papa is eager to meet you, little angel." You hear him mutter softly as it kicks under his touch again.
He truly loved the flutters of life within your womb and the gentle kicks tapping beneath his fingertips. You gently stroke the back of his hand as he caresses your belly. Very soon, the roughened textures of his hands that held yours unwaveringly through the years will be the very same comforting hands that will guide and hold your newborn's tiny fists.
You basked in the warmth of the moment, but then, without warning, you felt a sudden gush of warmth between your legs, dressing your maternity dress in pale yellow spots. The sudden realization made you gasp, and your eyes widened in surprise.
Hajime's concerned orbs snapped to yours, panic coursing through his alluring eyes. "What's wrong?"
Your heart raced as you felt another rush of liquid. "My water.." Your voice wavered uncertainly, and you bit your lip before looking at your husband. "I think my water broke."
Hajime leaped to his feet, his calm mind suddenly becoming a jumbled mess from the flurry of thoughts and emotions that coursed through him. "What does that mean now? Do we call the doctor? Should we go to the hospital? Are you okay? Do you feel any pain? Should I call an ambulance instead?!" His words tumbled in a frantic rush as panic surged in his veins.
Your trembling hands reached for him as you took a deep breath to steady yourself. "Haji, it's okay. We've prepared for this." Your voice came out surprisingly calm despite the urgency of the situation.
Your gentle voice and small smile seemed to soothe your husband's anxiety. Taking a deep breath himself, he forced his trembling hands to dial your OB/GYN's number.
With his newfound strength, he looked at you with a determined resolve as he squeezed your hands tight. "Stay here for now. I will go grab your delivery bag and start the car. I'll come back for you soon, okay?" The gentle command in his voice was remarkably calm compared to his chaotic state earlier on.
You nod with a small smile. Your trust in him is unwavering. With Hajime by your side, you were confident. As long as you both hold each other hands, everything will be just fine.
The once light atmosphere was now laden with anticipation for parenthood.
It was palpable in the air, almost tangible.
This is it.
A new chapter begins.
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~Haikyū Lovers Series~
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sevens-evan · 10 months
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For the prompts, either 19. it made me think of you, 24. just really needed a hug sort of hug, or 15. bed warm
v4 v5 era sadness and Also beacon bees just for you since i put off answering this prompt like a week lol. also i don't know why i chose to write this in past tense i managed to confuse myself with the tenses halfway through. getting less literate as we speak. if the tenses don't make sense at some point please respect that i have not written past tense in Years
Blake got sick once, at Beacon.
She hadn't exactly had a lot of time to go get her flu shot while she was running missions for the White Fang in the months before her matriculation; it was honestly a bit of a miracle it hadn't happened sooner. Several nasty viruses had already swept through the dorms by the time Blake finally got hit, not long at all before the Vytal Festival. In hindsight, she was grateful it wasn't any sooner. She would've hated to try to handle hiding her ears from her teammates at the same time as trying not to cough her lungs out or pass out every time she sat up too fast.
At the time, she was just irritated it was happening at all.
The first two days, Blake could pretend to be fine. By the third day, she excused herself from class when she found herself getting dizzy in her chair and slunk back to the dorm in defeat. She'd found it empty, of course, and barely managed to drop her things on the floor and take her bow off before the need to lie down overwhelmed her.
Drop her things, take her bow off, and crawl up into Yang's bed instead of her own, that is.
Hours later, when Yang returned from class, Blake was just awake enough to notice, unable to sleep between the shivers wracking her body and the sweat beading on her forehead.
"Blake," Yang said, setting her own bag on the chair by the desk. "You good?"
"Mmhhghmph."
"Blake..." Yang reached up over the side of the bunk bed and set her hand on Blake's forehead. And, okay, maybe Blake was a little overheated, since Yang's skin actually felt cold against hers, and Yang is never, ever cold. "You're burning up. You gotta get out of those blankets."
Blake shivered at the very thought.
"M'cold."
"I know you are." Yang's voice took on a tone that Blake had never heard before. It reminded her of the way Yang often spoke to Ruby. Not quite maternal, but almost uncomfortably close to it, considering the nature of her and Blake's relationship. "But you've got to cool off some, okay? I'll get a cold washcloth for your head." Blake groaned wordlessly in response, half-listening as Yang left the room and the tap ran in the bathroom.
"Okay, scoot over." Yang was already back; Blake must've dozed off for a moment. Blake flopped herself to the side, aching all the way, and let Yang climb up and squeeze into bed beside her, sitting up, back against the wall. Yang found Blake's forehead with the washcloth like a homing missile, making Blake flinch at the freezing cold water, even as it felt paradoxically good despite her trembling.
"What are you doing in my bed, anyway? You could've fallen if you're this sick." Yang's fingertips pressed the washcloth down against Blake's forehead. The pressure felt good—soothing. Blake didn't have the energy to lift her head and encourage it, but luckily Yang didn't seem inclined to stop.
(Later, Blake would blame her presence in Yang's bed—and her honesty in this moment—on fevered delirium.)
"It's warmer than mine."
"Warmer?" Yang repeated. "It's the same bed."
"You have nicer blankets." That much was true; Yang had replaced the blanket Beacon provided each of them with a thick comforter, and over top of that, a handmade quilt from home that was wonderfully heavy pressing down onto Blake.
"Speaking of which." Yang's hand finally left Blake's forehead, much to her disappointment. "You've got to let some of this heat out." Blake groaned in protest, but allowed Yang to tug the blankets away from her body, letting fresh air in to draw the heat of the fever out. It was cold, and hot, and uncomfortable, but it wasn't as bad as it could've been, not with Yang there beside her.
(It's this that Blake thinks of, months later, when she picks up some kind of sickness on Menagerie and sweats it out in her childhood bedroom. Her mother brings her water, and ice, and pets her hair back from her sweating face, and it's lovely, it really is; Blake had missed her parents and the way they took care of her, is grateful that they still take care of her after everything, but Blake lies there and aches and thinks about Yang. Yang's always-warm hands, cold on her feverish skin, and the fact that there is no universe where Blake will feel them exactly like that again.)
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jinlias · 2 years
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kinktober day 2 - pregnant sex w jihyo
- i’ve been reading too many of @darlinghyo ‘s pregnancy asks. its consumed me🥴
oh babymoons, basically your honeymoon all over again, except your wife now grew a tiny person inside her. it’s the whole reason you’re here, celebrating her and your baby. and what do you do at an occasion like this? you worship her. your hands and lips stick to her every chance they get. in the elevator, the shower, even in bed before the two of you head to sleep, she’s always up for some physical appreciation.
“nice of you to join me” jihyo smirks when you join her at the edge of the pool
“i was trying to give you space” you smile back, running your hand through your hair, trying to tame it after the couple laps you swam around the pool.
“too much space” your wife pouts “i like it when you’re so close i can barely breathe”
“yeah?” you’ve made your way behind her “i can do other things that make you barely breathe”
jihyo only chuckles “maybe you should”
you don’t reply, too invested in gently lowering the straps of her maternity bathing suit, the exposing of her cleavage everytime getting larger. at some point, you manage to lower the suit past her chest, and your hands instantly find themselves glued to it. your wife can only sigh, bite her lips while resting her head back on your shoulder. she’s been so sensitive lately, with the beginning of her tits leaking, even a graze of your arms with her chest has her a whimpering mess. she lets your hands squeeze, massage each of her breasts, that at this point would easily produce beads of her sweet, warm milk.
you’ve brought her suit down to her thighs, helping her find balance as she steps out of it, and when you turn her around to face you, your thigh finds home between her own, her swollen pussy grazing against your skin deliciously.
“oh” jihyo throws her head back, one of her hands on your shoulder as you look up at her, your hands once again making of her tits your own.
“you look so beautiful like this, hyo.” your lips peck warm kisses to the skin of her chest, right in the middle. “feel so soft and plump” her hips start moving on their own, her folds riding up and down your thigh eliciting short, breathy moans out of her lips. “have you looked at yourself lately? im gonna fuck you in front of our mirror right after this”
that makes a moan come out of her, her other hand wrapping around your neck as she tries to quicken her hips. “and your milk, it tastes so good” you murmur between suckles to her swollen, leaking nipples
you keep your tongue circling her bud, you tense your thigh knowing it feels better that way, and you let your other hand toy with her lone nipple, all of it over and over again until as easy as always, her breath hitches and she’s coming with a whimper of your name, nails digging into your nape and shoulder
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piizunn · 7 months
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françoise (red river cart), 2023
My second red river cart built for the city of Calgary's parks educational programming about local Métis Otipemisiwak history. The cart is propped up for stability while it is not in use and because there was a last minute problem with a spoke that I will be repairing so that the cart will be able to function for years to come! It accomanies a Métis Otipemisiwak trappers tent and several large vinyl panels of archival material for education. I also delivered the following speech after Elder D. D. spoke some beautiful words and M. H. introduced me and fellow artist D. P. who created beaded and illustrated borders in the style of historic Michif beadwork for the selected archival images.
Taanishii kiiyawow? riel s. dishinikashoon. Hello, how are you all? my name is riel s. and i descend maternally from seven Métis Otipemisiwak families from the historic Red River Settlement and Batoche. Notably my Berthelet ancestors were community leaders in Pointe à Grouette, now Ste. Agathe, MB. Throughout this project I thought often of my 5th great uncle Jean Caron Sr. who fought in the North-West Resistance of 1885 in which his house was burnt down. It was later rebuilt in 1891 and it still stands in Batoche to this day. I introduce myself in this way, the traditional way of the Métis Otipemisiwak to contextualize my knowledge and experiences, situate myself on this land, and honour my family.
The red river cart is a symbol of Michif (Métis Otipemisiwak) ingenuity and survivance. From the land it rises and to the earth it will decompose again, not leaving a trace, not a nail or a screw. I built my first cart in 2022 during my undergrad as I considered histories of road allowance, trade, and Michif material culture's place in contemporary art. It is the vessel that carried us across our vast homelands and beyond, and cradled our young nation, serving us in our fight for sovereignty, dignity, and respect.
I would like to thank my friend C. for their assistance in parts of the building process, as well as their trust, friendship, and curiosity. I would also like to thank M. H. and D. P. for this opportunity and your guidance as mentors and your friendship. Maarsii.
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darkstar225 · 10 months
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Twice's 10th member has a nightmare, what's 3mix gonna do?
A/N: I got an ask on Tumblr and I loved writing it, ty and I'm sorry for taking some time but studying sucks. This one is being posted as thanks for 2k views on Wattpad :D
The request: could you maybe do a twice's 10th member thing when they have a nightmare and are comforted by 3mix please?
PS: Tysm for everyone that reads what I write, I hope I can bring a smile to your faces every time I post! I'd like to thank whoever sent me this idea 'cause I loved to write it <3
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The night was quiet, save for the soft hum of the air conditioning in the dormitory. Among the nine members of TWICE, a popular K-pop girl group, there was a new addition, a tenth member named Y/N. She was the youngest of the group, joining them just a few months ago. Despite her young age, Y/N quickly became a  vital part of the team, loved and cherished by all. The night was unusually still in the TWICE dormitory, the air heavy with silence. The 10th member and maknae of the popular K-pop girl group was lying in bed, her youthful face etched with distress. Beads of sweat dotted her forehead as she writhed beneath the weight of a haunting nightmare. TWICE Honey's sleep was tormented by images that sent chills down her spine. The darkness of the dream seemed to seep into her waking world, filling her with a sense of unease. She desperately longed for solace, for someone to chase away the lingering shadows of fear.
Meanwhile, in the other room, three members of TWICE were huddled together, Nayeon, Jeongyeon, and Jihyo. They were the oldest members of the group and had developed a strong bond over the years. Known as the 3mix, they were the mother figures to the other members, offering comfort and support whenever needed. Nayeon was the first to sense that something was amiss. She heard faint murmurs and whimpers coming from Y/N's room and that set alarm bells on her head that made her immediately nudge Jeongyeon and Jihyo, signalling them to follow her. They exchanged glances of shared understanding and without a moment's hesitation, they rose from their spots, leaving the cosy comfort of their conversation behind. Together, they silently made their way to their child's bedside. The kid's face was contorted with fear as tears streamed down her cheeks. With gentle nudges and careful gestures, they approached Y/N's bed, their presence like a shield against the night's terrors. Nayeon gently brushed a strand of hair away from her face and began to whisper in a calming voice, her voice filled with tenderness.
Nayeon - Sweet girl, it's okay. We're here for you baby.
Jeongyeon, always the protective one, sat on the edge of the bed and held Y/N's trembling hand while speaking next. 
Jeongyeon - You're not alone, sugar. You don't have to face this alone.
Y/N's eyes fluttered open and she stirred, for a moment, the fear in her eyes was replaced by relief as she realized she wasn't alone. When she caught sight of the 3mix members surrounding her confusion and relief mingled in her gaze as she realized she was no longer trapped in the confines of her own fear. She sat up, and Jihyo wrapped her arms around her, pulling her into a warm embrace. Y/N clung to Jihyo, finding solace in her motherly figure. She buried her face in Jihyo's chest, inhaling the familiar scent of warmth and love. It reminded her of the feeling of being held by her own mother. As a result of a mix of vulnerability and trust, Y/N whispered without meaning too. Her voice sounded almost like a whine.
Y/N - Mama... 
Jihyo's eyes softened with love and understanding in a way so motherly that you can feel the fondness. She enveloped her kiddo in a tender embrace, cradling her fragile form against her chest and murmuring with her voice filled with a natural maternal instinct. 
Jihyo - Yes, my precious baby. Mama's here. 
Nayeon and Jeongyeon exchanged knowing glances, understanding the significance of Y/N's words. They both joined in the embrace, encircling Y/N in a cocoon of love. Their arms provided a safe haven, sheltering her from the storms within her mind. Nayeon pressed a loving kiss to Y/N's forehead, her lips lingering for a moment. 
Nayeon - Our precious little one, we won't let anything harm you.
Jeongyeon ran her fingers through Y/N's hair gently, soothing her troubled mind. 
Jeongyeon - You're stronger than you think, love. And whenever you need us, we'll protect you with everything we have.
Together, the three members showered the youngest with affectionate nicknames and tender words, their voices a balm to her troubled soul. Slowly but surely, the remnants of her nightmare began to dissipate, replaced by a sense of security and warmth that only the 3mix mamas could provide. As Y/N's breathing steadied, the trio eased her back onto the bed, tucking her in as one would a cherished child. Nayeon pulled the covers up snugly, ensuring her cutie pie felt safe and loved. 
3mix - Rest now, our little angel. We'll be right here beside you, watching over you.
Y/N's eyes grew heavy with drowsiness as the comfort of her newfound family enveloped her, the weight of the nightmare finally lifting from her tired shoulders. She settled against Jihyo's chest, finding comfort in the rhythmic rise and fall of her breathing that sounded like a soothing lullaby. At that moment, Jihyo truly felt like a mother, her heart filled with indescribable love for TWICE's honey.
The room gradually fell into serene tranquillity, the only sound being the soft sighs of contentment that escaped Y/N. Nayeon, Jeongyeon, and Jihyo exchanged smiles, their hearts warmed by the bond they shared with their youngest member.
Through the course of the night, the members of TWICE slept soundly, their dreams no longer tainted by fear. The gentle presence of the 3mix had ensured that Y/N's slumber was uninterrupted, cradled in the embrace of a family that cherished her beyond measure. And as morning's light dawned, they would continue their journey together, united by a love that could conquer any darkness, when Y/N opened her eyes she could only think one thing:
I love my dear unnies.
A/N: I apologise for any errors, English is not my first language. Pls, let me know if there's something wrong, ty for reading <3
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The Chad Michael Murray comparison (and the bro comments leading into laddy-gate) makes me think some look at Damon's glass bead necklace and see it more like a PacSun puka shell aesthetic. Can't blame them for that, but I've got to tell the story just in case!
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Does it change any of your minds to know Damon's mum made him that necklace, and he wore it religiously? And when Graham fell very ill before the days of Blur, Damon made him a matching necklace while he was in hospital? And then they both wore them as friendship necklaces for many, many years? When Graham's string broke he gathered the glass beads in a cup that Damon's mum also made him, which is quite touching and poetic, broken fragments returning to the hold of maternal love; tragically Damon's original one was torn off by fans during a concert and he was not able to recover them. Could there be a sadder end to one of the most iconic accessories of the 90s?
“Most of my worst gigs have involved alcohol. In fact, all of them. (...) The last truly epic one was in Madrid. It was that period when Graham wasn’t in the band. We went on tour, and I think that was... a really difficult time. I didn’t realise I was over medicating before gigs, but I clearly was. (...) I had this necklace that my mum had made me, a bead necklace. It was a very precious thing. At some point, I was in the audience, and someone just ripped it off. I got very upset, but because I was so drunk, I sort of forgot that it was a gig and I was supposed to carry on. So I stopped and said I wasn’t going to come back until they’d picked up every bead,” he laughed, embarrassed. “I got convinced to go back on stage about half an hour later, but I was so drunk, it was miserable, and I looked like an idiot.” (There is video of this moment showing Damon unsober and upset on stage, but I don't think it's very pleasant to post and mock. It's quite heartbreaking with the context of everything going on, I think.)
Anyway, when it comes to rating the aesthetic the necklace lends itself to, make note that Damon 1. is a massive mummy's boy, 2. loved his best mate dearly, and 3. the necklace is no longer with us and this fact is earnestly mourned. Surely this gives it an endearing edge!
May the pieces of that necklace, wherever they are now, remain forever in our hearts as an irreplaceable piece of 90s history. Amen.
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ride-a-dromedary · 26 days
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WIP Wednesday (on a Thursday)
I was tagged by the lovely @inaconstantstateofchange and I am just a *touch* late to meet the Wednesday deadline; but I thought perhaps to share another snippet of another drabble I have in the chamber of Halsin's various experiences with grief, this time the first time, with his grandfather (because when am I not writing a sad thing?). Slightly more canon adjacent OC focused.
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Died, his mother had explained, her face somber, meant Quevanae was not to come back as they knew him - not exactly. It meant his body would now serve a different purpose, but his soul would move on. Such was the elven way; the essence returned and the vessel emptied, restored to the earth from which his life was borrowed to nourish it anew. It was a beginning as much as it was an end.
Or so they said.
In truth, Halsin had been too young to fully grasp the weight of the situation, though he had nodded at his mother when she'd asked if he understood. She'd looked pleased at him even as her eyes drifted further away; that was enough.
After the initial dust had settled, he became more interested in the hole that was developing in the inner elbow of his mother's sleeve, poking it curiously to tug and pull at the threads until they stretched. All of his mother's clothes had holes in the elbows. If it was oddly shaped enough, i'osi* would mend it with vines and flowers, stitches so impossibly small and fragile he figured it must be magic for them not to break, which Halsin liked very much. 
When that activity exhausted his interest, and with none of the rest of his group showing any intention to leave even after silence rang its clear bells in conjunction with the cleric's final words, he pushed his thumb into his mouth, taking advantage that his mother seemed too distracted to discourage,  and pressed his cheek to the steady beating of her pulse to “wait patient”, which he was still very much struggling to get in the habit of. 
His brothers and sister had been there, sitting quietly by their parents, looking lost in their own thoughts. They did not look particularly happy with the proceedings, but they did not look sad either. In fact, they looked very much like they would rather be somewhere else entirely, but were old enough to plant their roots until instructed otherwise. Kan particularly had a twitch about his eye as he watched where the ashes gathered in the crook of an old oak, shaking his head every so often so the beads in his hair clicked in muted dissonance. 
He readily recalls precious little else in any kind of detail without a solid reach through his reverie - only how, when the others around them finally began to drift away having paid their due respect, his mother had carefully reached over to intertwine his father's fingers in her own. Sehan's expression never faltered, stone still like the mountains; he did not even look at her to acknowledge the gesture. But his knuckles had paled with the force at which he clung to her hand in turn. 
In the simplest terms, Halsin knew that cor'avar* was his father's father. His osu*. There were gossamer threads of memory that hum at that when plucked, wondering what that must have felt like inside where Sehan wasn't showing it.
Halsin dug little fingers into the soft skin of his mother's other hand on his belly in a clumsy echo of the gesture, watching as his own skin paled, then reddened again. Paled, then reddened again. He tried to imagine his father disappearing, never to be seen on the horizon again, to try and understand, but it made his chest hurt. He did not like that feeling at all.
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*i'osi = maternal grandmother (paternal grandmother would be "u'osi"
*cor'avar = formal term for paternal grandfather
*osu = daddy/affectionate term for dad
Tagging @theimpossiblescheme when they have a chance, and whomever else would like to post a WIP, but no pressure!
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