#infant sleeping bed
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sarahclarke01 · 4 months ago
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adlinaa · 7 months ago
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The Ultimate Comfort: Introducing the HunyHuny Super Comfy Wooden 12 in 1 Rocking Cot
Introduction: Parenthood is a beautiful journey filled with joy, challenges, and countless decisions. Among these decisions, choosing the perfect crib for your little one is paramount. Enter the HunyHuny Super Comfy Wooden 12 in 1 Rocking Cot – a versatile and stylish solution designed to grow with your child while ensuring maximum comfort and convenience. Stylish and Sturdy Construction: Crafted with care and precision, the HunyHuny rocking cot is constructed from high-quality pine wood, ensuring both durability and aesthetic appeal. Its timeless design and warm tones make it a perfect addition to any nursery decor, blending seamlessly with various styles. Versatile 12-in-1 Functionality: One of the standout features of the HunyHuny rocking cot is its versatility. With 12 different configurations, including a study table, daybed, rocker, and junior bed, this cot adapts to your child's changing needs as they grow. Whether it's nap time, playtime, or study time, the HunyHuny rocking cot transforms effortlessly to suit every occasion. Easy Mobility with Lockable Wheels: Equipped with wheels, the HunyHuny rocking cot offers easy mobility, allowing you to move it around the nursery or home with ease. The built-in locks ensure stability and safety, keeping the cot securely in place when needed, providing peace of mind for parents. Soothing Rocking Motion: The rocking motion feature of the HunyHuny rocking cot adds an extra layer of comfort, gently lulling your baby into a peaceful sleep. With just a gentle push, the cot provides a soothing experience, helping your little one relax and unwind after a long day of exploration and play. Ample Storage Space: With large storage space underneath, this baby cot offers a convenient solution for organizing your baby's essentials. From diapers and clothes to toys and blankets, everything can be neatly tucked away, keeping the nursery clutter-free and organized. Adjustable Mattress Support: The cot features a four-level mattress support system, ensuring optimal comfort and safety for your child at every stage of development. As your baby grows, you can easily adjust the mattress height to accommodate their changing needs, providing the perfect environment for restful sleep and relaxation. Conclusion: In conclusion, the HunyHuny Super Comfy Wooden 12 in 1 Rocking Cot is more than just a piece of furniture; it's a testament to thoughtful design, functionality, and comfort. From its stylish and sturdy construction to its versatile functionality and convenient features, this cot is the perfect choice for discerning parents. Invest in the HunyHuny rocking cot today and create a cozy haven where your child can sleep, play, and grow with utmost comfort and joy.
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padawansuggest · 10 months ago
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I’ve created a hybrid of Sithspawn, Eldritch horror, and a dash of cryptid with added shapeshifters on top. Anyways. Jaster survives and Jango is a clingy baby like he deserves to be.
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sensitivedead · 4 months ago
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mossy-thing · 1 year ago
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Just had my graduation ceremony
Pretty sure my ears might be bleeding
Applause should be banned permanently forever this feels like an ableist hatecrime
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allthegothihopgirls · 10 months ago
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i wish my cat was stupid so badly
in the middle of the night he'll meow at my door until i let him out of my room. which i don't, because he wants to come back in 5 minutes later, and WILL repeat the cycle. but he knows whatever the time is, if he uses his litterbox, i will get up to clean it. so he's started sitting in the box, pretending to use it so i get up, then run out of it to sit at the door. and he thinks that because i'm already up, i'll let him out. (he's wrong)
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higher-noon · 1 year ago
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I ran out of room in the tags to talk about my cats....
So the last kitty is a girl named raspberry. Someone brought her into a walmart unprovoked and handed her to my mom and now she is our baby. She eats potato chips and sleeps in a basket she has outgrown to the point of physically breaking it... twice. We keep fixing the basket because it is her favorite and she will sleep/mope where the basket used to be if we try to toss it out.
Bonus: explain who your cats are and how you got them in the tags
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ajarofpickledtears · 3 months ago
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ok I don't love Infants or Toddlers in The Sims 4 by any means and do think they're annoying, but some posts on Reddit seem wild
like, idk, maybe it's not common to micromanage everything my Sims do, but I am constantly checking back and forth so Toddlers and Children barely even get started making messes bc Mother Is Watching
also, never really had issues with Toddlers and the tablet, at most they go sit somewhere and talk to other Sims while using it
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thebeckster · 6 months ago
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Just doing the normal bedtime daydreaming about various WIPs and what direction they could go in and ways things could go right and ways they could go wrong, as ya do. And then I go and hit myself with a really devastating gut punch out of the blue thinking about How Far Ahead the Road Has Gone...
Just, we could have a real Chicken On The Bus scenario when Smaug enters the picture.
That'd be one way to avoid gold-sickness. Can't go crazy when you're deep in mourning.
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readwritealldayallnight · 21 days ago
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Simon’s never given much thought to babies before.
When he was younger, enough time was spent scorning his father and the childhood he was depriving him of, that any thoughts of becoming a dad himself one day were nonexistent. As far as he was concerned, he was essentially already a stand in parent to his younger brother.
As he grew older and enlisted, his life becoming one that consisted of nothing more than violence and destruction and terror, he thought the odds of him surviving into his 30’s were so slim that he need never bother worrying about having a ‘next of kin’.
That was until, he met you, of course.
Because now that Simon Riley has you in his life, he’s not quite so pessimistic about his existence the way he once was, doesn’t picture a foreboding dark cloud when he considers what his future could be. What a future with you could be.
Still, as much time as the two of you spend actually engaging in the baby making process, Simon really only considers babies as being something that other people have, not him.
Not with his line of work, not with the risks that come alongside the territory, not when he already can barely stand to leave you for deployment, let alone leave you behind with a child on top of everything.
No, Simon is perfectly content with his life where babies are just another anomale.
But then, your best friend announces she’s pregnant. And the sight of you holding a positive pregnancy test in your hands, changes something within him.
Suddenly, Simon is noticing chubby, drooling little infants everywhere he goes.
Fat babies shoved into the uncomfortable looking seats of grocery carts pass by him in the shops, crying babies strapped to their mums on the tube, sleeping babies being pushed around in their prams without a care in the world. Even on base, he notices more people talking about their children, showing off picture of their offspring.
He’s looking at you a little different as well. His gaze on you will darken as you and your friend chat about baby names, casually mentioning the ones that you like for yourself. His grip will tighten around the shopping cart when you wave to passing babies, making them giggle. He’s surprised at the way his cock twitches when you pretend to hold a breast pump up to your own chest, wrapping the baby shower gift you’d gotten her.
It only takes so long for you to notice the change in him as well.
You’ll be strolling through the park on a chilly morning when a young family goes by, Simon muttering something about how the little bald headed infant ‘should have a hat on for fuck’s sake, cold out ‘ere’. You’ll be in the shops, when suddenly Simon returns holding a pair of teeny tiny baby shoes in his hand, appearing comically small in his large calloused palms, wondering if maybe your friend would like them. You’re sitting outside a cafe while a pair of chubby cheeked babies are sat in their strollers staring at Simon as if their lives depended on it. You’re giggling to yourself, watching your boyfriend stare right back at these little girls, when the 6’4” tank of a man slowly lifts a gloved hand and waves at them, earning a pair of gummy smiles in return.
The most evident change in Simon however, is in bed.
Almost overnight, he goes from never having considered children, to suddenly dedicating every effort to getting you pregnant by the end of the year, month, week.
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sarahclarke01 · 4 months ago
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Abimed Baby Bed Trolley features an adjustable height range of 650 mm–1260 mm and is designed with aluminum alloy. Features lockable wheels, removable side panels, a storage basket, and adjustable head and leg boards. The unit offers dimensions of 1880 mm × 900 mm, ensuring stability, safety, and easy access for convenient cleaning and organization.
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dante-mightdie · 21 days ago
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maybe this is really soft, but I can’t stop thinking of butcher!Simon holding him and wifey’s newborn wee lamb (perhaps born real tiny despite the fact that Si is HUMONGOUS) and he can just hold the wee thing in one hand 🥺 walks around their flat just holding their infant in the weirdest ways lmao (he’s always careful tho)
having a clingy newborn and a husband who doesn’t want to put your baby down goes hand in hand
you can have all the rest you want and/or need whilst he’s more than content with keeping the little company. using the baby monitors as walkie-talkies so you don’t need to get back to bed
“she okay?” your sleepy voice would call out over the crackly monitor
“she’s fine, she’s with me. go back to sleep, doll.”
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envy-of-the-apple · 2 months ago
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Family Man Part 2
Yandere!Gojo Satoru x reader
Part One
Word Count: 8.9k
thx to a very lovely commissioner!!!
Synopsis : Two months after Satoshi’s death, you and your daughter struggle to move on. You’re so lucky that Gojo is there to pick up the pieces.
(Yandere, smut, oral sex both m/f receiving, lactation kink, implied depression, masochistic gojo, ooc gojo, never rlly fixed that, reader has dark skin, xenophobia(NOT by gojo))
Sometimes, you're in bed, and feel like he's right beside you. 
For a moment, the last two months disappear. You feel whole again. Sometimes, it’s enough to make you turn around, words on your tongue, already ready to smile and greet him with a kiss. 
He isn't there. Nothing's behind you. 
And you feel empty all over again. 
It's better somedays. The emptiness. It's like a looming visage of gloom. Farther away one day, in your bed the next. Lately, it's growing bigger and bigger. A dark cloud on your shoulder, resting heavier and heavier on your back. 
Grief. Mourning. Loss. 
When you open the door, the mailman smiles cheerily at you. 
"Morning!" He chirps. "Lovely weather we're having today."
You nod, silent as he begins to dig through his bag. He's younger than you, you note. By a decade, at the very least. Barely in his twenties. When you were his age, you were still back home, in the village. When you were his age, Japan was just a faraway country, hardly worth your notice. 
He hands you your dues. You take them with a respectful thank you. And then you wait for the inevitable. 
On cue, his smile fades. Something pitying fills his gaze. You force yourself to stare right back at him. Insecurity bites at you, and you know he's staring at your dull face. The circles underneath your eyes. 
In the background, Reina babbles. He's forced to take his eyes off of you momentarily. 
"I heard about your husband." He starts, still staring inside your home. Your hands tighten into fists. "I'm sorry for your loss." 
He bows. So do you. 
"Thank you." You tell him, rehearsed, just like you practiced millions and millions of times. "I...appreciate it." 
He smiles, as if he think he did something, made your life a little easier. You let him bathe in his graciousness, before you shut the door. Away from the sunlight, away from fabricated sympathies. You finally feel like you can breathe again. 
It's been like this ever since Satoshi died. 
Car wreck. Some drunk had driven too close to the curb. Satoshi had been walking home. He'd missed the bus, he does that often. It's a usual quirk of his, you'd often found it adorably clumsy. Being late was harmless. He wasn't supposed to die for it. It'd been an instant kill, for the both of them. No other witnesses. The scene was cleaned up by the time you got there. The officers kept you in dread for four hours. In that time, you could almost convince yourself that it wasn't him. The reason why he wasn't answering your calls was because his phone had died. He was lost on the other side of town. He was anywhere else, doing anything else. 
You were brought to identify the body. Your eyes couldn’t deny what you saw.
You think a part of yourself died with your husband, too. You drift through life like a ghost. Mindless, numb. Colors have all bled into grayish blues. You don’t really feel much of anything anymore.
Reina squeals. You blink back to reality.
She’d dropped her toy. You pick it up. It was a purple stuffed rabbit. Satoshi had gotten it for her the day she was born. She doesn’t even sleep without it.
These days, Reina is the only thing that makes you get up in the morning, even when you don’t want to. She’s the only thing you push yourself for.
You don’t know where you’d be without her.
She’s giggles when you hand it back. She doesn’t even know. How can you even begin to tell your infant that her father is no longer coming home? Someone so new at life should not experience death this soon. It’s a sin. Someone has cursed her. It’s the only explanation you could give.
You kiss her on the top of her head. Her baby hairs are still growing. They resemble yours. Every part of her was you. When you look at her, you don’t see Satoshi.
You used to tease him about it; now, you wish there was just a tiny bit of him on her face.
Or maybe it was a good thing? Did you even want to see the man you loved, mourned for, and hated to think about in your daughter’s eyes? Would it break you even further?
You don’t have to think about questions like those. You have more important things to worry about. When you rifle through the mail, your heart sinks.
Warnings, bills, everything that Satoshi used to handle. Even when your world stopped, the rest of the planet didn’t: ever turning, ever malevolent.
You place the bills down. Reina babbles something.
You bend down to pick her up, she screams in delight when you place her on your lap, peppering her face with kisses.
And maybe your world hadn’t stopped, not just yet.
“There are stains on your blouse.”
You glance down before shrugging.
“Reina dropped her food.” You shrug. “I didn’t have time to clean it up.”
Kiyo doesn’t look very happy about your excuse. She doesn’t say anything about it, preferring to glare at you in silent disapproval as she always does. Usually, you’d have Satoshi acting as a barrier between you and your mother-in-law. For obvious reasons, that wasn’t feasible at the moment.
Reina was being entertained by your father-in-law. Satoshi had inherited Isamu’s bald spot as well as his gentleness. Reina kicked her feet as Isamu muttered soft words, as though they were communicating, even though Reina hadn’t even said her first words yet.
Another milestone Satoshi would miss.
“We made adjustments to the will,” Kiyo announces. “Everything will be passed onto Reina when she comes of age.”
You nod, not very interested in politics and lands. Satoshi came from a traditional family. Japanese nobility, though he wasn’t fond of talking about his background. You were always fine with it. You never married him for the money, despite what your mother-in-law thinks.
On cue, Kiyo snaps her fingers. You blink in her direction.
She frowns, but you’ve never seen her smile in your presence.
“I would appreciate if you could pay attention when discussing my grandchild’s future.” She more or less hisses.
“I am,” you give. “Trust me, no one else is more invested in my daughter’s future than me.”
It makes her even more mad, but you’re too drained to play ‘submissive daughter-in-law’ with her. From the moment Satoshi introduced you as his fiance’, Kiyo had hated you. Nothing you did could make her like you. Not even when you learned the language perfectly, immersed yourself in Japanese culture.
She never said it out loud, but you knew what she thought of you. She wanted someone different for her son: someone with pale skin, straight hair, and Japanese heritage.
You wonder if she blames you for his death.
“You haven't gone to visit him,” She says, after she breaks her death stare, “you should.”
A part of you wants to say no, but you’re in her home, and you know she doesn’t take it lightly when guests (not family, you were not family) reject her. So you do as she suggested. You rise, glancing at Reina before ultimately stepping out of Satoshi’s childhood home.
He was just as you had left him. His gravestone stood tall and proud. Even next to all the other graves, his was the tallest. It must be Kiyo’s doing. No matter the gripes she had about you, her child would always reach for the skies.
His incense had to be switched. You did so, throwing out the burnt sticks and replacing them with new ones. You watched the smoke flicker away from his altar. A lone picture of him, a shy smile. It was from back when he was younger. His hair was still there. An office job hadn’t dulled his eyes.
You wanted to keep the ashes. Just a tiny piece of him, tucked by your own altar you had. Kiyo had refused, wanting the entire body to be cremated and kept in one piece. Too broken, you hadn’t pushed. Now, all you were left with his clothes and the fading scent on the pillows. You regret not fighting more that day.
You don’t cry. Not today. A part of you is proud. It feels like it’s much too early to feel so numb to this grave. It’s too early for this to feel normal.
You touch the cold stone. It’s smooth underneath your fingertips.
Your in-laws are right inside the house. You still feel lonely.
“You shouldn’t have left.” You told the tomb. “You shouldn’t have abandoned me like this.”
When you curse Satoshi’s grave, you could have sworn you felt a tiny tingle by your neck.
On Thursdays, you take Reina shopping.
She’s a hit with the local farmers market. The shopkeepers coo at her giggles and beautiful eyes as you haggle prices for vegetables and grains. It’s nice to get back on routine. Even with everything going on.
The bills were still on the counter when you left. More and more were coming in. You feel like you were being buried alive.
Reina kicks her feet. When you look at her, her chubby cheeks are stretched in the wide smile. You smile back, and then you pepper her face with kisses. These days, you’ve opted out of the bus, trying to save some money. It’ll just be until you find a job. Then, you can take as many Air-conditioned rides as you want.
There’s a honk. You ignore it. A car rolls to a stop beside the sidewalk. You take a peek, and then you stop and stare.
“Mr. Gojo?” You ask.
“Hey! Long time!” The man waves cheerily.
You give a timid smile, waving. Reina, your polar opposite, screams in delight. She frantically leans out of your arms as though she could get to Gojo by sheer will. You quickly rearrange your hands to balance her.
“What’re you doing out there?” He frowns. “Especially in this heat?”
“Ah.” Subconsciously, you wipe the sweat off your neck. “We were heading home from the market.”
He brightens. “Wanna hop in? It’s way too hot to walk that far.”
You smile, about to politely decline but then you remember infants shouldn’t be in this weather for too long.
Gojo’s car is luxurious, but the biggest relief is the cool air blowing over your heated skin. Reina is ecstatic to be next to Gojo. She babbles something, reaching out her tiny arms. Gojo takes her immediately.
“And how’s the prettiest girl in the world doing, today?” He grins, lifting her above his head. She coos.
You’re not really sure how Gojo walked into your life. You met him once before. That day when Satoshi had a mental breakdown and practically ran away from home. Gojo was so ansty back then, and it made sense why he and your husband got along so well.
He was the one who brought home Satoshi’s essentials from work—his computer, his notes—and then he started delivering Satoshi’s work mail. Then, sometimes, he’d stop by for lunch. And then he started bringing toys for Reina. Two months passed, and you know him now.
Not well. But you know Gojo enough to slip into the passenger seat, watching how he handles Reina.
“Okay, Car ride!” He tells her. She claps her hands as he gently hands her back to you.
“Thank you again, Mr. Gojo.” You tell him. “Really, this means a lot.”
He waves you off, starting the car. “Don’t worry about it, Seriously. Got nothin’ better to do anyway. Also, I told you already, call me Satoru.”
You smile, shifting away. You don’t know why Gojo is insistent on helping a widow. He was the friend of your late husband (though, strangely, Satoshi never spoke of the man before or after the quick introductions). Maybe it’s guilt. But unlike the rest of the people who knew, Gojo never once looked at you like that as though you were in pieces in front of him. It was nice, finally having someone like that. Someone who doesn’t see you as the widow of a dead man.
He was a nice young man. You shouldn’t be so quick to assume everyone has an underlying motive.
Maybe some people were just as they are. Nice.
“Grocery shopping?” He mentions to your bag. It creases under your grip.
You nod. “Dinner. You’re welcome to join, but I’m not making anything special.”
“I’d never pass up a meal from you, ma’am,” Gojo says, happily.
You like to keep to yourself, but he was driving you home. It was the least you could do to pay back his hospitality, as well as the other things he had done for you. Honestly, your bucket for Gojo’s hospitality wasn't yet empty.
When the car rolls to a stop, Gojo hops out, opening the door before you can touch it. You thank him, Reina huddled safely in your arms and fast asleep. Gojo grins, not before grabbing your groceries and leading the way.
Your house is sparser than it had been just months ago. Less decoration. Less silly memoirs. No pictures. You dumped them all, stored them in a tiny box before locking them all in the attic. You couldn’t bring yourself to throw it away.
Gojo waltzes into your home like he owns it. You don’t mind. He’s young, still in his twenties, at his prime. These days, you can feel things start to break down within you. Your shoulder hurts when you sleep on it the wrong way. You have to be more careful about picking up things from off the ground. You can’t tell whether this has to do with the remnants of pregnancy or your age, but you’re envious of Gojo’s youthful strength either way.
He places the bags on the counter. By then, Reina’s awake. She blearily blinks at you. You were hoping she’d stay asleep for a little while longer.
“I can watch her!” Gojo pipes up, extending his hands. Reina’s overjoyed to be handed over. It’s nice to have your hands full with something else other than baby
You listen to them giggle while you get started on dinner. It’s your usual dance. Potatoes. The sounds of boiling water. You want to make something simple, but Gojo is here, and you don’t want to disappoint your guest. By the time you’re back out, it’s nearly an hour, and the food has yet to be served.
They don’t seem to mind. Gojo had taken Reina onto the floor. You don’t complain. It’s where she usually played anyway. He was driving one of her wooden cars on the carpet, running it across the floor, as Reina clapped to her heart’s content. You could only watch, heart strangely numb.
He’s good with her.
Like Satoshi was.
You clear your throat. Gojo looks up.
“Food’s ready.” You tell him with a stiff smile. “Why don’t you wash up? I’ll take care of her.”
“Be good, okay?” He pats Reina’s head before standing up. You take her into your arms.
She’s tired from playing. Reina settles in the crib rather nicely. It’s relieving. When she’s asleep, you can’t bring yourself to leave. You watch her. Her chest rises and falls. She snores. It’s the most adoring noise you’ve ever heard.
When you head back to the kitchen, Gojo’s already back. He grins, clearly eager.
“You cooked a lot.” He comments when you two finally settle down. “Not that I’m complaining!”
“I hope it’s to your liking,” you say as always.
And it is. Gojo never hides from giving his compliments. He’s so genuine and sincere, and it makes you a bit bashful.
“Mrs. Sawai, this stuff right here is sometimes the highlight of my day,” he says. You shake your head.
“It’s true! You have talent. You should open up a restaurant or something! Wait no, don’t do that...you’d be booked for years, and I’ll never eat your cooking again.” That makes you laugh. He seems pleased for some reason.
“Thank you,” you say, “I appreciate that.”
“How was your week? Your students?” You prod.
“Good. They’re all good!” He chirps back. “I was out of town for the week, so returning to my precious students was the best.” He sighs. “Sometimes, I wish I could just pack them all in my suitcase and take ‘em with me. They’re the cutest things.”
He said he taught at a religious school, which you found strange because Gojo didn’t really strike you as religious. Nevertheless, he seemed very passionate about teaching. It was rather endearing.
Did Satoshi ever have that kind of passion for his job?
“Reina reminds me of them. The youth.” Gojo adds. “Endless potential. The kids are all like...seeds, right? They just need the proper care to bloom.”
“That’s a nice way of looking at things,” you say.
When dinner’s over, you gather the utensils and bowls. Gojo offers to help, but you don't bite, insisting that he rests. It gives you time to decompress. As much as you like Gojo, he’s a bit severe. You can’t be around him for too long, he’s too bright. His companionship is much like a furnace. Warm, but too much, and you burn.
When you return, you expect him to put his shoes back on, waiting by the door.
Instead, Gojo is perched on the counter—his hands card through your mail.
You stare. He doesn’t seem particularly surprised at being caught. He doesn’t startle; he barely spares you a glance, perusing over your bills like they were his. You know you should say something. Anger. It should bubble up instead of the shame. You open your mouth—
“How much?” He suddenly asks.
You fumble. “What?”
He waves the envelopes. “How much is it?”
You say nothing. He shrugs, as if that’s an answer itself.
Gojo reaches into his pocket and pulls out a checkbook. You move when he plucks a stray pen from the counter.
“What are you doing?” You ask, incredibly lost.
“I’m not real good with money.” He sheepishly admits before tearing off the slip and handing it to you. “But this should be enough, right?”
You stare at the amount. You’ve never held this much money before.
“I can’t accept this.” You instantly say. Instinct.
You go to hand this back. He puts a hand on his chin.
“Tell you what.” He tells you. “If I gotta take this back, I’m just gonna head to the bank, cash it in myself, and throw all the money into the river.” He grins at your horrified expression. “And it’ll all be in Yuan, so even if someone fishes it out, no one’s gonna be able to use it. One way or another, that money’s getting outta’ my bank.”
His voice softens, akin to butter. It melts into your ears.
“This isn’t out of obligation or anything. I’m giving this to you because I want to help my friend. That’s it.”
Gojo has never looked at you in pity, not like the others. He’s always looked at you like...well, you could never understand his expression. You stare at him. His sunglasses have tilted over, showcasing those gorgeous blue eyes.
Why? Why are you doing this? You want to ask him. It’s killing you inside. Is it pity for the wife of a dead friend? Why was he doing this to you?
You think of Reina. Happy giggling, Reina, with your eyes and your hair.
“It’s not like I don't have any to spare. I’m, like, loaded,” Gojo continues with his usual snark, and you think of the fancy black car parked in front of your tiny house. “And if that isn’t enough for you, just think of it as me paying you back after all those times I’ve eaten your food.”
You lower your gaze when you take the check.
“I’ll pay you back—”
“—I won’t accept it.” He grins, and you have to smile at his tenacity.
“Thank you. No, really.” You keep the check close to your chest. “Thank you, Mr.Gojo.”
He angles his sunglasses down. He looks expectant. Just this once.
“Thank you, Satoru.”
“No problem!” He pops his frames back into place.
You see him off. When he’s behind the wheel, he gives an excited wave. You shyly wave back.
And then you feel a touch right on your back. When you turn, there’s nothing but air.
Sometimes, you dream of home.
Your real home. The village is far, far away from Japan. Where you lived with your parents and siblings and aunts and uncles and cousins and grandparents. On sweltering summer nights, you and the other children would sleep on the terrace underneath the stars. There were dirt paths, and rolling hills but the sky was clear every night.
In the village, tradition was everything. You used to hate it. Every day was the same. An endless cycle. You used to dance back then, your family had pushed you into it. As a child, you thought it was stupid.
Maybe that’s what pulled you towards the city—bustling roads, people everywhere. Your college was a town in and of itself. You met so many new people every day.
Satoshi was one of them.
When you brought them to your family, everyone was in awe. He was a foreigner. He was well-off, too; he came from a traditional Japanese family.
It was your Nani who pulled you aside as your family gushed about him.
“Are you sure about this one?” She had asked.
You nodded. Back then, you were young and in love. He was everything you could have dreamed of. New, exciting.
She doesn’t smile.
“Be careful.”
You remembered her words, even after you ran off with Satoshi to Japan. You remembered her words even after Satoshi assured you he wanted you to stay home and he’d work. You remembered her words when Reina was born. You remembered her words when you and Satoshi’s lives were perfect and happy.
And then you woke up.
Your village was gone. Instead of waking up in a pile of your siblings, you were alone on a giant bed.
It’s dark in your home. Satoshi hated having the lights off.
You looked to the crib. Reina was still asleep. During nights like these, you often bring her to sleep with you. It still isn’t enough, sometimes.
You’re a terrible mother. Why isn’t your own daughter enough for you?
Careful not to wake her, you slip out of bed, walking into the closet. You reach up, feeling your way on one of the shelves.
The photo album is dusty. You cough a bit when you open the book.
There’s you. Younger, stupider, garbed in your traditional dance dress. You always found that outfit so itchy. The photo was taken right after you’d placed first in one of your last competitions. Even in the photo, you had this look of disdain, holding that trophy like it was nothing but a heavy burden.
You still have that trophy a decade later.
You flip another page. Your parents. Your cousins. Your Aunts and Uncles. You stare at the photo of you holding your baby cousin. He was the same age as Reina when that picture was taken. That was ten years ago.
You can’t remember the last time you saw your family. Reina hadn’t met her grandparents, her own cousins. You never got the chance to. Satoshi was always so anxious about leaving Japan.
They’ve seen her, through video calls and photos. But that’s different than touching her, bonding with her.
You stare at the photo of you posing with the rest of your siblings and cousins. Strangely, you feel like you robbed something from Reina.
You miss home.
You cry until the album shuts itself closed, and the sun starts peeking through the windows.
“You good?” Satoru suddenly asks.
You blink, eyelashes fluttering as you stare at him. He’s on the floor again, watching Reina as she clacks a few wooden blocks together. It isn’t quiet. The babbling, too. She’d already knocked over the tower Satoru had built. He didn’t seem too upset by her destruction.
“Oh,” you say, “yes. Yes, I’m fine. Thank you.”
As discretely as you can, you rub at your eyes, hoping that would shoo the dark circles away. It doesn’t help.
“I...just haven’t been sleeping too well these days. That’s all.”
Reina says something, not too happy with the lack of attention. Satoru gives her another block. He’d given her a bunch of toys, this time. You weren’t sure where to even store half of them. If he kept this up, pretty soon Reina’s entire room will be filled with dolls mirrors, and blocks.
“What’s been going on?” He asks.
You’re not sure how to answer that. You aren’t sure what’s been going on yourself. All that you know is that it’s getting worse. You can’t sleep at night, most nights like there’s something pressing you down. Things are going missing. You feel like you’re being watched constantly over and over again.
It only goes away whenever Satoru’s around. Maybe that’s why you’re more tolerant of his space.
“It’s nothing,” you say, “I’ve just misplaced a few things. It’s been aggravating looking for them.”
“Hm.” He cocks his head, you can’t decipher his tone. “Really?”
“I’ll find them eventually.”
He’s silent for a few more moments and then—
“Maybe you’re haunted.”
You laugh. It’s mean and sardonic, but you haven’t laughed in a while, and you hide away when Satoru stares.
“A ghost?” You question. “Those don’t exist.”
In the village, superstition was everywhere. Guess that never changed, no matter what corner of the world you ran to.
“Not a ghost.” He corrects. “Maybe something else.”
You hum, unamused. Satoru turns to Reina with an all-too-wide smile on his face.
“It’ll be right behind you, and you won’t even know it.” He tells her. “Then, it’ll draw closer, and closer, and closer until....it gets ya—”
To further his point, his hands shoot out to lightly jostle her. Reina squeals, absolutely thrilled.
Then, Satoru turns to you.
“Or something like that.”
You aren’t impressed.
“Ghosts aren’t real.” You tell him.
“They certainly aren’t.” He agrees. “But other things are.”
Satoshi acted strangely two days before his death.
He was always anxious, but this was even worse than before. Constantly looking behind him, like they’d be something there. You know he wouldn’t sleep. He’d just lay there, shifting in panic.
You don’t prod until you find him in the bathroom in clear hysterics.
“I messed up,” he mumbles over and over again. “I messed up. I messed up.”
“Satoshi.” You beg, kneeling on the tile next to him. “What are you doing? What’s going on?”
“I messed up.” He tells you again. “I keep messing up.”
And then he sobs. He cries so loudly, you’re worried it might wake up Reina. You hug him. Hold him close to your chest, letting him cry himself out.
“I’m sorry.” He tells you. “I’m sorry. I love you. I love Reina. I’m sorry.”
“Sorry for what?” You ask.
He looks at you then.
“For cheating.”
You remember every detail. The crinkle in his eyes. The beginning stages of wrinkles in his face. A picture entirely stamped into your memory.
“I forgive you.” You immediately say. “I—I forgive you. We—we can work through this.”
“We can’t.” He shakes his head. “I’m so sorry. You deserve better. She deserves better, too. I’m sorry.”
He doesn’t say anything when you prod. Who, how, when. Your husband cheated on you. You aren’t even allowed to grieve your dying marriage when you have to grieve your dead husband.
You meant what you said. You forgave him. You would have worked through it. Fixed it. Because your marriage with Satoshi was perfect.
Perfect.
Perfect.
It was a perfect marriage when he never stood up for you in front of his mother. It was a perfect marriage when all he did back from work was eat and sleep. It was a perfect marriage when he cheated on you.
Rose-tinted glasses. Maybe your relationship wasn’t the most perfect.
But it was fixable.
Reina’s crying in her crib. The thing on your chest is back.
You fumble through the dark, reaching for her. She’s crying even louder when you pick her up, even when you rock her in your arms.
“Please stop.” You beg. “Please stop crying.”
She doesn’t. The pressure gets bigger.
“Got any plans for the weekend?” Satoru’s asking when you’re finished putting away the groceries. He’d offered you a ride again. You wondered when you stopped being surprised at his frequent pop-ins.
“The same as always,” you respond.
You’re not used to the house being so quiet. Reina’s always doing something. For an infant, she’s rather loud.
But she isn’t here today. Kiyo wanted her Grandaughter for the night. You obliged, letting your Mother-in-law whisk Reina away. Was she even your mother-in-law anymore?
“So nothing?” Satoru prods, and you wonder why he’s so persistent on the answer. Maybe he wants to tease you.
The differences between you and him are staggering. He’s young, still in his twenties, he probably still goes out clubbing, drinking, whatever kids his age are into. You are...older, a mom, unsure if the tight skirts you wore 15 years ago would still fit you.
“If you don't got any plans, why don’t you hang out with me tonight?”
You stare at him.
“Don’t gimme that look. You act like I’m gonna rob you.” He complains. “Let yourself loose a bit. What do you even do for fun, these days?”
That stumped you. Apart from lounging around, sulking, job hunting, revolving around Reina, you haven’t done much. When’s the last time you talked to someone other than Satoru?
“There’s a bar that opened up. Not too far from here.” He muses. “Wanna go?”
You hesitate, “I—I don’t think that’s a good idea. I’m not good at handling alcohol—”
“Same! Total lightweight.” He gushes. “It’ll still be fun, though! What do you say?”
Why, you want to ask. Why is he so insistent on spending time with you. Asking about you. About Reina. What does he want from your broken family? Your mind can’t piece together the images—connect the dots.
“Okay,” you say instead.
Three hours later, you’re dressed in the most flattering clothing in the back of your closet. Satoru looks pristine as always, and you wonder if there’s ever a chance he could look any less put together. Under the dim lights, he’s almost glowing. You can’t stare at him for too long.
The conversation is light, not too purposeful. You wander from one topic to the next. He talks about his co-workers. His school. You’ve always wondered about this teaching job. He seemed to never want to shut up about his students, but whenever you try to pry about the details, he starts to drift away. The most you’ve gotten from him was rambling about how it was a private religious school before he sprung into something else.
“Did you have any pets?” He asks, “Growing up, I mean.”
You shrug. “There were a lot of stray dogs, in my hometown. We would feed them, but no. No pets.”
“You?” You prod.
He takes a moment, genuinely thinking.
“My family had a dog, not too long after I was born. After that, nothing.” You were surprised, he answered. The alcohol must make his lips a little looser.
“I think having a dog would be nice,” you muse, mostly to yourself, “maybe an older one. Less energy.”
“What pet do you think I should have?” He asks.
You stare at him. He’s grinning.
“A rock,” you respond, and when he laughs, you laugh a bit, too.
“I like it when you smile like that,” he says when his voice recovers. “You get all blushy.”
You frown, discretely checking your face in the glass.
“I don’t blush.” You say. “My skin’s too dark.”
He tips his sunglasses down, staring at you with those pretty blue eyes. You shift away. His gaze doesn’t let you get far.
“Not really,” he murmurs, tilting his head. “It’s subtle, but it’s still there. It’s a nice color.”
He’s teasing you. You know that. Still, you look away. He laughs again. It sounds like twinkling bells.
“How’s everything holdin’ up with the house?” He asks when you’re nursing your 3rd drink. “I know you had a couple of issues earlier.”
You shrug, lips loose, feeling warm. “I don’t think I have to worry about it. Not anymore.”
“Hm? Why’s that?”
“I’m thinking of going back home.”
He stops messing with his drink. You don’t notice, thoughts hazy.
“Back...to your country?” Satoru asks carefully.
You nod absentmindedly. “I only came here because of Satoshi. Now that he’s...I think it’s best for Reina if we go back.”
You want her to live with her maternal culture. You want her to meet your side of the family finally. Maybe, when she’s older, you can put her in your old dance garments. She’ll probably hate it, much like you did. She’ll be good at it, much like you were.
He’s silent, swirling his glass.
“Really?”
“Yes.” You feel defensive, even when you shouldn’t be. His tone was cool. Yours wasn’t. “It—it’s her home. She should see it.”
“Wasn’t she born here?” Satoru questioned. “Wouldn’t Japan be her home, then?”
You deflate.
“You’re right.” You admit. “Japan is her home, but it isn’t mine.”
You miss home. You miss the village. You’d do anything to go back to the good old times. You’d do anything to be away from this pain.
Japan was empty. Your in-laws barely tolerate you. No friends. No job. The only good memories you had were buried in a tomb, and even those rotted away by lies and deceit.
“I think you should stay,” Satoru says, voice soft.
“Why?” You ask. “I have nothing here.”
“You could.”
You look up. In the dim lights of the bar, he’s breathtaking. Everything you weren’t.
And that everything closes the distance between you and him.
It’s soft. Barely a kiss. His lips are soft; you can smell his shampoo. It lasts for a moment before you’re breaking it. You shy away, staring at the floor beneath you. Your shoes. You can hear your heart. Thump. Thump. Thump.
Satoru follows your mouth. This time, it’s bolder. You can feel his warmth, pressed against your frigid soul. He’s melting you down to bone. There’s a hand on your back, keeping you in place. Fireworks spark at the touch.
It’s been so long since you’ve felt someone like this. Not since...
And then you remember who you’re with, what you’re doing. The ring sits heavy on your finger.
You push away. Satoru falters, and you use that opportunity to stumble to your feet.
“I’m sorry,” You say, “I—I’m—”
You don’t know what to say, so you say nothing. Instead, you turn and flee out the bar. Into the cold frigid night.
You’re drunk. You can feel it in your fingertips, the way your vision gets the slightest bit dizzy when you move too fast. You cling against a random lightpost, checking your phone.
Your place wasn’t that far away. You could walk, right? But it would be safer to call a cab. Better yet, call Kiyo. Call your neighbor. Call anyone?
Oh, you just remembered that you have no one here.
Satoru finds you when you’re already crying. You can feel him on your shoulder before he even says anything.
“Hey,” he says, reaching for you, “c’mon. Let’s get out of the street—”
“Why?” You whirl onto him, so fast that even he’s surprised. “Why are you doing any of this? Reina, me, why do you care so much?”
You’re still crying, but you can feel your tears slow down the tiniest bit. You weren’t breathing. You don’t think he was either.
Satoru opens his mouth. Closes. Opens again. His smile is gone. You can see the imprint of your lipstick on his perfect pout.
“I love you.”
It feels like he just slapped you. A knife in your belly, tearing you apart. Nausea builds in your throat, threatening to spill all over the road. You can’t look at him anymore, it hurts too much. Betrayal. You’re betraying your husband. Your dead cheater husband. 
“Stop.” You beg him anyway, “Don’t say that. Never say that, I can’t think–”
“—Then don’t think.” He insists, sweet, saturated. “Don’t think about any of this.”
He kisses you again, and your mind blanks. You let him this time, and you feel yourself break over it.
This time, Satoru’s the one who breaks it, resting his forehead on yours. You still must look confused. He laughs adoringly.
“C’mon this can’t be too out of left field, right?” He asked. “I mean, I made it pretty obvious.”
He had. You were too preoccupied in your own misery to notice. Offers to drive you to the grocery store. Volunteering to take care of another man’s baby. Satoru has always been direct.
You avoid his gaze, but there’s no where to go.
“Satoru,” you hesitate. “I—I don’t feel that way.”
“I know.” He concedes, trailing his lips down your cheek. You don’t stop him.
“But you need this.” He kisses your neck. “I know you do. You’re so stressed all the time, hm? You need me. Use me. However, you want to.”
Use him. You’ve always used him. What difference would this make?
You still had a chance to stop this. There were so many reasons to stop. You were a recent widow. A single mother. He was so much younger than you—
You kiss him again to stop thinking.
You don’t know what time you stumble through your door.
Satoru hasn’t stopped touching you in the cab, walking up to your patio. If you were sober, you might have been a bit more hysterical about it, now you just wanted him never to stop.
He’s pushing you against the door, slamming it shut with your body weight. You can barely get the words out past his plush lips.
“Bedroom.” You insist.
He pulls away with a laugh. “’course, Babe.”
You’re not sure how to feel about that petname, but you don’t get a moment to complain. He’s effortlessly picking you up, and you settle on the cool comforters moments later.
Your dress is halfway up your thighs. He spares no time, reaching for the back and finding the zipper. It falls apart in his fingers. He peels the fabric off of you with a delighted sigh.
“Fuck, look at you,” he’s saying to the newly uncovered skin. “so so pretty.”
Not used to the attention, you shy away. He doesn’t let you, taking you by the chin so he can kiss you again.
He’s so different now. You feel like you’re seeing a side of him you aren’t supposed to. Long white lashes, pretty blue eyes that are drenched in want and lust. His breathing was elevated. He was excited.
It scares you.
“I...I haven’t done this in a while.” You admit when you pull back. You give him a glance, before resigning yourself to pull away the rest of the dress and dropping it to the floor. “So...Please be nice?”
You sound like a child, unsure and nervous. You hate that you can’t keep the tremor out of your voice.
“Yes, yes.” He’s nodding, staring at you like a drooling dog. “I’ll be so so nice, baby. The nicest. Just lemme’ touch you. Please, please, pretty please?”
You give a tiny nod, and he’s pouncing on you.
He’s insatiable, you don’t think he’d ever get enough. He’s pawing at your bra before it comes off completely beneath his touch. Your panties are gone too, and then you’re entirely bare beneath him.
He doesn't forget about himself, neither do you. Between his ravenous kisses, you manage to take off his jacket. Satoru helps you with his shirt, pulling it off him, showing his toned abs and pale skin. Not a single mark or blemish. He’s absolute perfection.
He must notice your hesitant fingers at his shoulders because he stops sucking on your neck with a distinct pop, still playing with your tits, leaning over to whisper in your ear.
“Touch me,” he says, “I want you to touch me.”
You feel awkward pulling your fingers down to his chest, his stomach. His skin is soft, warm. Your hands are frigid. He shivers when you graze over his abs. His skin is so pale, almost translucent. If you were to pinch him, bite him, the color would show oh so nicely.
When you pull away, he whines, nearly falling over.
“Don’t fucking tease me like that.” The way he says it is so needy. You laugh, gaining the courage to play with his hair.
He gets the control back eventually, pushing you back down so he can devour you properly.
His face is between your legs before you can comprehend it. He’s spreading you open so he can see your pussy. You’re already creaming for him. Your pussy juice is spread across your lips, making your skin glisten and shine. It’d be embarrassing if he wasn’t worse, drooling like a fucking dog before his mouth meets your cunt in a frenzied kiss.
He gives this high-pitched moan that sends a thrill up your spine the more he makes out with your clit, licking and sucking.
“Oh.” You sink against the pillows. “Satoru—Satoru-!—”
“Fuck yes—” his voice is muffled but he doesn’t stop. “You taste so good, baby. like—like fuckin’ heaven—”
You almost double over when his teeth graze your clit. Your hand reaches out immediately to grab and his hair and pull.
It does nothing. He just whines, and when he digs deeper into your pussy, you realize he likes it when you hurt him.
You pull harder and his finger presses its way into your wet hole and just the right angle to make you see stars.
“Fuck baby, ‘can barely fit my fingers.” It would sound like a complaint if he didn’t sound so far gone already. “How are we gonna fit my cock into this pussy, hm?”
He talks too much. When you shove his face deeper into your folds, it seems to shut him up and he’s back to worshipping your dripping cunt.
He’s too good. It’s all so good. You’re squeezing his head between your thighs, sure you’re suffocating him but he doesn’t seem to care. The noise is downright scandalous but you’re too far gone to give a shit about that.
It felt so good to stop thinking.
“Close.” You gasp when you hit that plateau. “I’m close. I’m—”
“Gonna cum?” he asks from underneath you, and it only seems to spur him on. “Gonna cum for me, pretty girl. Cum baby. Just let go. I gotcha’ just please please please—”
It hits and you arch your back, letting your orgasm rush past your body. It fizzes up your spine, right to your tits before you sag back to Earth. Satoru is more that happy to work you through your high before your thighs fall apart against him and he’s detaching himself from your clit with one last part kiss.
Satoru kisses you, famished. You can barely kiss back, following his lips with your own. You can taste yourself on his tongue. It’s a tangy sweetness, warmed from his spit.
“Was I nice?” Satoru asks.
You nod. He smiles.
He pulls back, sitting on his knees. You watch as he fiddles with his boxers, before pulling out his pulsing cock.
It’s not all that thick, but it’s the length that makes you shift, just the tiniest bit. He’s on the larger end. His cock looks puffy and dripping in a way that almost looks painful. He pumps himself a few times, and then you’re reaching out.
Satoru stops, watching as you rise from your earlier position, hand on his cock. Your hand is so much smaller than his, you can barely wrap your fingers around his base. He shivers at the touch, and by the time you’re fisting his cock he faltars, head falling into the crook of your neck.
“Too much?” You ask when he gasps.
“No.” He shakes his head. “No no. Keep going. Please don’t stop.”
That same whine again. Helpless and needy. When you squeeze him, he jolts.
And then you stop. You’re sure he’s about to complain but then you’re lowering yourself, keeping your eyes on him, and you give his cock a tentative lick.
You hadn’t done this in a while, and you weren’t all that sure if you could swallow all of him, but you try your best. You swirl your tongue around his tip, watching as he twitches. His cock jumps in your mouth and you have to hold his base to keep him still for you. He’s so sensitive. Every touch you give him seems to just make him even needier.
He rocks his cock into your mouth. You let him, watching as he babbles on and on.
“So so fucking good, baby.” He’s moaning, head flung back, like it’d be too much to keep looking at you. “Right—right there. Fuck fuck fuck.”
He cums fast, and it’s sudden. He’s barely holding his breath before he’s shuddering and he’s filling your entire mouth. There’s so much of it, you can’t possibly swallow it all. You mouth off his cock with a pop, pumping him until he starts twitching out of overstimulation.
Satoru is panting, still basking in that afterglow as you kiss him. He doesn’t seem too embarrassed about how quick he lasted. Then again, you don’t think he has the brainpower to feel anything right now other than pure lust. Pussydrunk, your brain gives.
You reach up, wiping away the tears collected in the corner of his eyes. A part of you wants to leave it there. He looks good like this. Pretty as an angel.
And then you look down and you see his cock has not gone down at all.
“Oh,” you murmur, “I see you’re healthy.”
“Mmh,” he says back, not exactly words but you’re not looking for a conversation right now.
Your pussy is throbbing. She wants more attention. You’re settling back into your original position as you watch Satoru rifle through his forgotten pants. He pulls out a familiar wrapper. You have to roll your eyes at his preparedness.
“You’re a bit too ready for this.” You note.
“Can you blame me?” He honestly asks. “I’ve been waiting for this for months.”
The casual admission makes you glance away. He laughs at your sudden shyness and you have to wonder how you didn’t see him before.
“Ready, baby?” He asks. This feels familiar, somehow.
He gives his cock two cursory pumps, and then he’s pushing himself into you.
It’s so much all at once. As wet as you were, his cock bullies his way into you with a fierce stretch. It’s enough to make you squeeze your eyes shut. Grin and bear it.
“Shit, you’re so fucking tight.” He curses. “How the hell did you fit a baby through here?” You can’t bring yourself to respond to his usual snark, so you claw at his back, raking your nails through his skin. He hisses and the pain seems to distract him into temporarily shutting up.
By the time, he sits his dick in your pussy, you’re close to breaking. You were right, he was way too big. Bigger than the one person you’ve always been with, so you’re not sure if you have a good gauge on size. Still, your brain short-circuits, and your eyes roll to the back of your head. Mind-numb.
He’s impatient this time, not giving you a chance to adjust before he’s clumsily pulling back out only to ram himself back in. You lurch, grabbing his shoulders to stabilize yourself from his sudden pace.
“Satoru—!” You gasp. “It’s—!”
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” He’s apologizing, but you’re not quite sure how much he actually means it. “I’ve—I’ve just waited so—ah—long and now you’re here and it’s so—”
If it’s even possible, he gets even faster, pushes his cock even deeper into your battered pussy. The squelching of your hole and his whines into your ear make it so much more erotic than it needs to be. You give into your desire, reaching over to sink your teeth into the soft flesh of his neck. The masochist in him purrs in delight.
You notice it first. That familiar soreness in your tits. When you glance down, your nipple is leaking that familiar milky fluid.
Satoru notices too. He stops, sinking his dick entirely into you. You’ve never felt fuller.
“Oh.” You feel heat creep up your neck. You hadn’t fed Reina today, this was bound to happen. “I—I’m sorry. I—I should’ve—”
You expect him to pull out of you awkwardly. Maybe even be disgusted.
Instead, he groans.
“I’m getting dessert now, too?”
“What?”
As your answer, he leans down and latches onto your tit.
He’s messy, smearing milk all over your skin and the other breast. After a while, he picks up his pace again, resuming his pussyfucking. You’re sure the angle must be painful, him bent over you like this, but he makes no complaint. And you could care less about his discomfort right about now.
He alternates between your breasts like he can’t decide which one tastes better. It shouldn’t feel this good, watching him suckle on your tits but you can feel yourself get even tighter. He can feel it, too.
Satoru’s rambling now. You can barely keep up with his incoherent mess.
“Fuck—fuck, you’re close, arentcha’?” he’s slurring his words, spitting them out one after another. “C’mon baby, you wanna cum? Cum, then? Milk my cock, pretty baby. Just like last time.” You should be paying more attention to his words. You don't.
Everything feels like deja vu. You should be paying attention to your own words too. You don’t.
“Mhn.” You moan. “Close. Sato, I’m close. Real real close—”
Your eyes widen. So does his.
You think you just ruined everything.
And then he starts jackhammering himself into you.
“Say it again.” He demands, driving his cock deep into your cunt.
You shake your head, despite your refusal you can’t help but— “Sato, oh God. Please Sato—Don’t—”
“Again, say it again.” His fingers descend to your clit, messily rubbing tiny circles. “Don’t stop saying my name until you’ve cum.”
You obey. Sato, Sato, Sato, Sa—and then you’re tipping over the edge. He fucks you through it, keeping you on that high until he’s shuddering too.
“Fuck baby, I missed you.” He’s whispering in your ear. “I missed you so much.”
You sigh when he kisses you, still coming down to Earth. The kiss his soft, just filled with want, instead of that carnal desire. He pulls away, and just when you’re debating to let him stay the night, he’s pulling out new rubber.
“Another one?” You ask, the dots not quite connecting yet.
“Oh, c’mon.” He grins down at you. “You didn’t think we’d go for just one round, did ya?”
You’re finally back in his arms.
Satoru dreamed of this day. He’s dreamt of this for months, ever since he had to leave you with that scumbag. Now that you’re sleeping peacefully in his arms again, everything is finally right in his world.
He shifts, wanting to bring you closer to his chest, but he winces. Fuck, you really did a number on him. He didn’t know you were into biting. And he can feel the pleasant sting of your nails on his back. He’d need to be careful with his RCT for a while. He wants these marks to last for as long as possible.
And when they fade, he’s sure he won’t have to convince you too much to make more for him.
“Give...them...back.”
Oh right. He’d almost forgotten about that other tiny problem he had.
He turns to the curse. “So, enjoy the show?”
Satoshi is unrecognizable. Malformed, demented. No more eyes, tall enough to reach the ceiling. To a being like Satoru, he was still nothing.
To a non-shaman and an infant, a grade 2 curse was quite the hassle. No wonder your so exhausted these days. Your husband was cursing you.
“Give them back.” The curse rasps. “Give them both back.”
Satoru’s silent, as if he’s really thinking about it.
“Nah, I’m good.” He grins. “This one’s mine now. And about Reina...what do you think suits me best: Dada or Daddy?”
The curse roars. It’s loud enough to shake the walls. Satoru tsks.
“Careful there. You might wake the missus.” He points out.
“Mine...” Satoshi insists. “They were....mine.”
“Were.” Satoru enunciates. “And now, they’re all mine! Sorry about the change in management. Don’t worry, though. I’ll take great care of both of ‘em.”
Always wanting to have the last word, Satoru reaches over and plucks your wedding ring off your limp finger.
“So, that’s where you got attached.” He muses at the metal. “Can’t believe you’re pathetic enough to curse your own wife. Is this 'cause you're still mad about the execution?" He asks, twirling the ring in his palm. "That happened months ago, man, get over it."
A snap of his fingers. Satoshi is gone. The room gets less stuffier. You relax in your sleep, and Satoru is caressing your arm, still studying the ring. It’s cheap. Plated gold with a less valuable metal as the base.
Pathetic. He tosses it carelessly.
A few months later, Satoru proposes with a proper engagement ring.
You say yes.
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princessbellecerise · 4 months ago
Text
Beacon of Hope
Summary ✩ After the war, Jacaerys finally finds his purpose for living again
Warnings ✩ Slight spoilers for Fire and Blood
Notes ✩ Hosue of the Dragon has been so depressing lately and I needed a little something to lift my spirits. I hope you guys enjoy!
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Some days he just couldn’t sleep.
It had nothing to do with his bed, as he had slept in multiple uncomfortable places during the war. But it was more so that Jacaerys was still in disbelief that this was his life now.
A year ago, the realm was at war and he was on the brink of death. After getting shot at during the Battle of the Gullet, Jacaerys suffered a major injuries that many didn’t believe he would survive. He spent his days floating in and out of consciousness, one foot in the grave until miraculously, the fever broke, Jacaerys rose again.
When he did, he learned that he was no longer a Prince. The war had ended with the death of his mother and the poisoning of the usurper, Aegon. And when he opened his eyes, he was a King.
Broken by the losses he took at war, yes. But slowly over the years, life turned.
Along with the many allies that still fought for him and his mother, Jace begin to rebuild the kingdom until it was whole again. What was once destroyed by dragon fire and blood was rebuilt, and in a few years time, King Jacaerys was able to restore what his family had destroyed.
It made the nights easier, knowing that the threat of war was gone and the realm was finally at peace, but even though his two remaining brothers were alive and the realm had settled, Jace still felt as if something was missing.
The holes that the death of his mother, his brothers, and his stepfather left never seemed to go away. And their death haunted him. For a while, the King believed that even though the realm was whole again, he never would be. The war had taken so many things—precious things—from him, that he no longer thought that hope and love was possible.
Then he met you.
When you came into his life, Jacaerys’ world had been upside down. He was alone with only his infant brothers to share his pain with, and he constantly felt like he was submerged in darkness.
But you…you were his light.
Not like dragon fire, which destroyed everything in its path, but rather the kind of light that inspired hope and growth.
With you, he learned what it meant to love again. What it meant to trust, and to have someone by his side that loved him unconditionally.
You were his greatest hope, and though many credited the maesters for keeping his broken body together, it was you that made his soul whole again. You were his missing piece, his beacon of hope, and he would never have it any other way.
So sometimes, when he couldn’t sleep, and the memories that he tried so hard to repress during the day came hunting for him at night, Jacaerys would stop and he would look upon your sleeping face and realize that everything was okay again.
Though the losses he took would never fully heal, he felt the pain ease knowing that he had you, little Aegon, little Viserys and little Luke to keep him striving towards the future.
Along with the babe that was currently in your belly, your growing family gave Jacaerys purpose. For the first time since waking up, the darkness that shrouded him faded, and it was instead replaced by hope.
Hope a better life. Hope for a better future.
A future he swore that no one would ever take from him again.
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deunmiu-dessie · 5 months ago
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(unedited) simon's punishment [connected with this!]
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“congratulations on your beautiful baby girl.”
simon's gaze remains fixed on the swaddled, wriggling pink bundle held by the nurse, until his focus shifts to your motionless form lying amidst a sea of medical professionals. your stillness is haunting, your body devoid of life as you lay in the hospital bed, with sweat-soaked hair clinging to your forehead and parched lips cracked and dry.
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he wonders briefly if this was some sort of punishment, karma for thinking he could have a dash of normalcy after a life of killing. he couldn't breathe, couldn’t move, he could hardly think or process what was happening. this wasn't real, it couldn't be; you were just sleeping— tired from pushing out an infant for hours on end. but the monotonous sound of the heart monitor flat-lining, tells a different story. gone, you were gone. what now? where are you?
“sir?”
simon jolts and pans his gaze to face the nurse who still holds his child. she softly thrusts the newborn in his direction, countenance grim- and it ages her young, round face even more than it already was from working at a hospital. simon had hardly looked at the child since she’d been born, couldn't bring himself to— not while you were laying there, dead. it was his fault.
eyebrows furrowing and moving robotically, simon lets the nurse position his arms properly before she places the wailing baby into them; the infant quiets almost immediately. in that moment, simon's world narrows down to just two things - the fragile bundle of life in his arms, and the lifeless figure lying before him. the contrast between the beginning and the end, the hope and the despair, is almost too much to bear.
he reluctantly flits his eyes down to finally catch a glimpse of the newborn, and as his gaze lands on the tiny face, an overwhelming wave of sorrow engulfs him as he weeps, witnessing the uncanny resemblance the baby bears to you.
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i cried writing this one.😓
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inkskinned · 11 months ago
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it is the first snow today. i think we should all have off work, even though it didn't stick. i think there should be 4 national holidays, one for each season. happy first snow, go home and make cookies. for spring it can be the first crocus. for summer the first lightning bug. for autumn, the first golden leaf. go home, kiss your dog, feed your cat (who is absolutely already-fed but somehow still starving.)
i think we should all take more showers together, but i mean that in the soft way. i mean it like taking a nap. two years ago i had 5 adult friends in my queen bed, all of us laying across each other, head over belly over thigh over hand. any time one of us would giggle, it would ripple over each of us, like pulling on a spiderweb. kim actually needed to nap and didn't get to sleep and i am still sorry for it even though this is one of my most precious memories.
i think we should all wash each other's hair, i mean. i walk my dog and i watch someone put up twinkle lights around their front porch. alex and i just moved, and i love the neighborhood. already so many of our new neighbors have stopped by to say hello. the nice lady downstairs also collects plants, like me. she gave us her number on a pink post-it note. i am trying to decide whether to make her cookies or brownies.
i am going through a very hard time. something bad happened this weekend that i do not wish to discuss. it is hanging over me. i think of the green ribbon, and the woman who had her throat cut. it feels like that sometimes, inside of my body. like i am walking and talking despite being half-corpsed. like i am hanging on by a ribbon, standing on some kind of cusp. i keep saying - at least it wasn't worse. we are so lucky it wasn't worse. the idea is river-rock smooth now, all the edges worried off.
in this very dark night - the sun sets by 3 now - people don't need to, but they try anyway. they paint the missing light into things. i have an embarrassing number of missed calls and texts, but i feel the love from them nevertheless - hey. if you need something, i'm here. i will bring you food/puzzles/anything. i got you.
i think we should all have a big group chat where we do errands with strangers. this week i got lost in a home depot, which is wild because i'm a lesbian and we are actually hatched in a lowe's lumber section. there were two other women in the whole store. we ended up shopping together, at first by accident (we all needed things in the same aisle), and then because, well, why not. one of the ladies was taller than me, so she pulled down the screws i needed. i am agile and have the personality of a raccoon, so they sent me after anything below 3 feet. we talked about holiday plans and never learned each other's names, but did learn all the drama about each other's families.
i am making you cupcakes, because i have so much affection i want to pour it into batter. you ask me if i am eating enough per meal. i wrap your gift twice, trying to do it prettily. i get excited to give it to you, just because i hope you'll be excited too.
my parents drive an hour just to see the new apartment and to do the parent thing; standing in the kitchen saying things like "oh you'll get so much use from this dishwasher" and "well, you could paint that" and "when your mother and i moved it was uphill both ways and in a snowstorm and of course your brother was an infant." my mother brought me a plant for housewarming. i always say i love you before she leaves.
i play dnd on tuesdays still, after all these years. we all keep that night free. at one point, between grad school and marriage and all of it, we had to have a serious discussion about how to keep it running. we will keep going, we decided eventually. just to see each other, even if we don't play - you are all important to me. sebastian is not prone to affection but last night he stole my usual sign off - i love you all, be good, he said. he was laughing.
i don't love the winter, actually. i like snow in theory, but i grew up in the north, and am too-familiar with the season of "mud and sludge". i don't like being cold. but i do love something kind of soft and rare: every year around this time, people remember oh yes. you and i are human together. and i have love to spare.
it is the first snow, and something in my heart is finally warm again. i have spent what felt like the last 18 months just going-through-the-motions. it has felt blank and immediate, like i would never actually feel again. that sounds extremely trite and stupid - but that is the boring and familiar experience of depression. life just washes up against your windows, and you watch it happening. you see things that should be lovely and affecting, and it just whispers too-thin. i was desperately uncreative. uninterested in my hobbies. unimpressed by my writing. i told my therapist, often, i don't know how to find hope again.
almost sheepishly, something strange and lovely is burning in my chest. i keep not-looking at it, worried it will scamper back into the shadows again. it is skittish and wild, but it is so warm i want to sink my hands into its fur and feel it breathing. i love-hate it: if it's real, it can hurt me when it leaves again. but i am icarus-born, sun-lover and poet: i can't help myself. despite my best intentions, i am falling in love with life again.
i am planning to make cookies for my friends. alex and i are going to go christmas tree shopping. we picked out matching dish towels last night, and they have little mushrooms on them.
i love you. it does come back. yes, even after a long time. even for you. i promise. keep trying. you will wake up and it will be a day you can smile about.
write me when you get there. we will take the day off of work, and i will wash your hair, and we will both be laughing.
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