#His little heart can't take it I understand

[cressidagrey]

Such A Mystery - Part 12 - The End

Pairing: Max Verstappen x Colette Leclerc (Original Character)

Summary:

Max Verstappen fell in love at the ripe old age of 12 and never looked back.

Colette Leclerc really regrets posting that particular Taylor Swift Lyric to her private Instagram account, because it made George Russell go insane.  

The rest of the world has absolutely no idea that the Dutch Lion and Charles Leclerc’s twin sister have been a couple for 15 years and are expecting a baby. 

Warnings: 

Pregnancy, Mention of multiple miscarriages, Pregnancy complications, George Russell Bashing (he's probably really nice in real life but in this, he's the bad guy, sorry), Jos Verstappen, We have apparently now reached the time where I also bash Ferrari. I am sure they are super nice in real life too. They are not in this.

Author Notes: Huge thanks to @llirawolf for holding my hand through this. Chapter 12 of 12!

They were alone. Just the three of them.

Colette had never felt so exhausted in her entire life. But she had also never been so happy. Charlie had been fed once more and had then fallen back asleep, curled up on her father’s chest. Colette herself could barely keep her eyes open.

And she should be sleeping, but she could only watch her daughter curled up against Max's chest.

"How did we manage to create something so perfect?" She asked him softly.

Max let out a tired little huff of laughter, not bothering to open his eyes. “She is perfect, isn’t she?” he murmured quietly.

Colette felt a smile tugging at her face. “Perfect and absolutely beautiful,” she agreed quietly, shifting a little to get a better look at the two of them. "So perfect it almost hurts to look at her."

Max smiled at her. "I...There is this thing you should know," he said hesitantly.

Something about his tone, the hesitance in his voice, made Colette pause. "What is it?" she asked curiously.

"I may have told the whole world about us? On Instagram?" he admitted with a grimace.

She could only snort at that. "I think your father made sure that that cat was out of the bag," she told him drily. "What did you say?"

"That we have been a couple for 15 years. That I couldn't be happier with you and our little family," he said simply. "I wanted everybody to hear our truth," Max said softly. "Not what other people write."

"There is a romantic inside you after all," Colette teased him softly.

"You aren't angry?" Max checked.

Colette sighed. "Not at you," she said simply. "I can't be angry at you. You just want people to know how happy we are together. We kept it quiet for years for me," Colette said, staring at her daughter. "Is it weird that it feels like she put everything into perspective?" she asked him, nodding towards Charlie. "I just...I don't care anymore,” she admitted.

Max stared at her, blue eyes wide, but Colette just shrugged. “I was terrified for so long what people were going to think about me once they knew about us...but now...I don't care. What does it matter?"

Max reached over and laced his fingers through hers. "It doesn't," he promised her. "I'll start screaming it from the rooftops tomorrow, if you'll let me."

A laugh escaped her before she could stop it. "I think the media already knows," she teased, squeezing his hand. "We can just put my Instagram on public and let them eat their heart out," she suggested. It wasn’t meant seriously. Not really. 

But the more she thought about it, she wondered if that was what it was going to take. Opening up the digital scrapbook of her life. Letting anybody have a peek at their relationship. Hoping that finally they would understand.

"We'd break the internet," Max retorted, grinning at her.

Colette laughed. "We really, really would. Reason enough  to do it?" she teased him.

"And give my PR team a heart attack? Absolutely,” Max returned immediately. “Tell me when.” 

"I love you," she told him seriously. "And I am ready to love you in public too."

She had done it from the shadows for 15 years after all.

He stared at her. "Are...Are you sure?"

"I am very, very sure, mon coeur," Colette told him softly, giving his hand a gentle squeeze. "The only opinion that matters to me is yours - and my family's. I don't care what anyone else thinks," she added, glancing down at Charlie again, who slept blissfully on, cuddled against Max's chest.

"If people want to call me an attention whore or a gold digger, they are welcome to it," Colette said quietly. "I don't care. I'm happy and you're happy and our baby is happy. Let them write whatever they want."

***

"Marry me," Max blurted out.

His words came out of his mouth before he had even realised what he was saying. The room suddenly became very quiet, as if all the oxygen had suddenly been sucked out of it, and Max suddenly realised that he had just blurted out the question he had been meaning to ask for months, at a time that couldn’t be further from ideal.

Colette was staring at him, her eyebrows raised and a look of surprise on her face. She seemed frozen and totally caught off guard by his question. And he didn’t blame her for that. She was exhausted, and had just given birth, and here he was, bombarding her with questions as if this was the perfect moment to do it.

But then she smiled at him. 

"Yes," Colette said simply. "Always yes. You know that.”

Relief surged through him so strongly, Max thought he might just about collapse. She had said yes.

Granted she had said yes the last time as well. 

He remembered that day like it had been yesterday…remembered coming home that May evening in 2016…Fuelled with adrenaline from his first “proper” win. Remembered the trophy that still had a place of pride in their living room…the bottle of champagne, the Pirelli cap…and the ring that he had bought after that race. The celebratory crepes for breakfast the next day where still a tradition they kept with. 

Max felt like he could have exploded there and then, just from happiness. He couldn’t believe that he had just asked her, that she had just said yes. It didn’t feel real. It felt like something out of a dream.

"Yes?" he repeated incredulously, just to make sure he hadn’t actually dreamt it. "You’ll marry me?"

"Properly this time," she teased him, with the most beautiful smile on her face, as she leane up to press a kiss against his lips. “I’ll marry you, Maxie.”

He couldn’t stop himself from laughing, the sound breathless. It wasn’t just exhaustion that made him sound like that, it was disbelief, a sort of giddy lightness.

"Properly this time," he echoed back to her, his words soft. "You’ll marry me properly."

He couldn’t actually believe she was saying yes. "I do have a ring," he assured her. "It's at home. I hid it in the trophy."

Colette laughed. "Of course, you hid it in the trophy," she repeated, her voice warm and amused."Of course you did."

Max gave her what he hoped was at least a resemblance of a sheepish look. “Where else would it be safe?” he said defensively. "And I know you wouldn't look there," he added.

"A perfect place to hide something you don't want me to find," Colette agreed.

Max grinned at her. "Exactly," he said happily, gently brushing her hair from her face.

"Which trophy?" she asked him seriously.

"Spain 2016," he answered honestly. His first one. The one. 

"You hid it in the 2016 trophy?" Colette repeated, her smile widening into a grin. "Really?"

"Just felt appropriate,” he answered honestly. He still remembered handing it to Colette for the first time, the ring that he had bought clanging around in the bottom of it. 

"It is," she agreed softly, leaning up to press a kiss against his lips.

Max smiled against her mouth, his arms tightening around her, pulling her a little closer. He couldn’t believe they were having this conversation. He couldn’t believe he had just blurted out the one question he had been wanting to ask for ages, and she had actually just said yes.

"You’re really going to marry me," he mumbled against her mouth, unable to help the words. "You’re actually going to marry me."

"I had your baby, but this is what shocks you?" Colette asked him with a laugh. 

He laughed, pulling her closer again and nuzzling his face into her shoulder, her words causing him to blush faintly. “I love you,” he mumbled against her skin quietly.

"I love you too," she echoed back quietly. "And yes, I will marry you. As many times as you’ll ask."

"I am the luckiest man in the whole world," he said softly.

"No, I’m the luckiest," she told him gently, wrapping her arms around his neck and pulling him close again. "To have you, and this, and Charlie, and all of it. It’s everything I ever wanted.”

[svgarseason]

𖹭 cw: suggestive, fluff, angst

══════════════𖹭 MINORS DNI 𖹭═════════════

PT 1 ⋆ PT 2 ⋆ PT 3 ⋆ PT 4 ⋆ PT 5 ⋆ PT 6. PT 7 [SOON]

English professor Nanami could tell that you were uncomfortable the first couple of days that you stayed with him. He could see it in the shy way you asked for permission for every little thing. "You don't have to ask," he tells you. "I'm glad you're here," he says. He feels suddenly warm, the way you smile at that. It takes a while, but it seems you're finally comfortable, if the way you hum moving around the kitchen and plop down right next to him on the couch with your laptop are any indication.

Professor Nanami tries his best not to stare, but it's hard. He can't understand why seeing you do mundane, domestic things, like making coffee or rinsing dishes, makes his heart feel so full, but it does. He guesses he is probably in love with you, and if that's the case he is well and truly fucked because it can never come to anything. He hopes it is just a passing infatuation, not that he is particularly prone to those. It has never happened to him before, actually.

Professor Nanami knows that, when you leave, his house will feel quiet and empty and he'll torture himself with thoughts of who you're with and what you're doing. He knows it will be soon. The selfish part of him dreads it, but his practical and morally upstanding side will be relieved. The couch situation is becoming potentially problematic, after all. The shorts aren't helping.

"Professor Nanami, what do you think of this paragraph, like, is it actually terrible?" He couldn't truthfully tell you because the plush of your thigh is pressed up against his as you lean over practically on top of him. Your hair is falling over his arm and, although he doesn't mean to look, he can see down the front of your shirt over your shoulder. It is so much worse than when you would crowd in on him in his office.

"Why are your eyes closed," you giggle "Is it that bad?" It is that bad. His cock stays at least half hard pretty much around the clock, now. It has a mind of it's own. He is squeezing his eyes closed, desperately grasping at any thought that might direct bloodflow away from his twitching dick. But he doesn't tell you that, of course.

"Just thinking," he says, instead.

Professor Nanami opens his eyes and your face is so close it kind of takes his breath away. You have never been this close before, and you are so still. Still like a coiled spring holding tension until it just can't anymore. He doesn't mean to, but he looks down at your lips. When he looks back at your eyes, he knows he's caught. He knows he should look away, create distance between the two of you, but he is frozen in place.

And by the time he has done all that thinking, it's too late anyway. The crush of your mouth against his is soft and warm, like the press of your body against his as you crawl into his lap.

Professor Nanami wants to pull you closer, taste you deeper. He wants to undress you and explore your body with his hands and his mouth. Really take his time with you, memorize you like a favorite lyric. His hands find the angle of your jaw, trace the line of your neck he had so often admired before coming to rest on your shoulders.

Professor Nanami pushes you away. "Stop," he says, an alien strangled quality to his voice. "I can't."

Professor Nanami stands in the doorway of the guest room, saying your name softly. You are a quiet blur of motion as you stuff your things into a bag and tug on your shoes. Your face a shiny, red mess of ruined mascara. He says he wants to talk about it, but you don't care, you're too ashamed. You feel like a stupid little girl with a stupid crush who did a stupid, stupid thing.

Professor Nanami doesn't try to stop you when you go.

a/n; hey guys, spoiler alert, but I'm thinking of making the next part a smau. It would be texts between these two. Idk. I love reading smau but I've never made one. Or maybe the next part will be readers POV, then a smau. Anyway, any thoughts on that? & ty for reading as always.

[29daffodils]

and besides, who has ever shown him mercy?

i know the fandom has different takes on this man. and a lot of it is... unsavory, to me at least, who loves him best out of all the four characters. so this is just something that struck me really hard while watching.

in the moments before he jumps off the boat, kant waited. maybe for bison to show mercy, to take pity on him, to maybe show him some humanity and spare him this torture. kant had already told him before that he is afraid of the ocean, and in this scene he reiterates it. for all the lies he has told, he has never lied about himself (through omission : yes, directly : no). and maybe it's just his last resort, hoping that bison's love (or whatever of it was left there anyway) would soften him a little and make him take back those words.

he waits and hopes, and the moment he realises this too is just a card he has been dealt that can't be changed, he makes his choice and jumps.

now let's flashback a little.

we have a boy, in the middle of the ocean, presumably having lost his parents. he grows up with the responsibility of an older brother — but that's in name only, because he has to be a father, a mother and a sibling, all at the same time. for babe to have grown up kind and empathetic and sorted the way we see him to be, all the credit goes to kant. kant is 29 and babe is in highschool, so he must be what, 18 at best? now imagine an 11 year old orphan having to shoulder the responsibilities of not only himself, but his newborn brother as well (i am assuming the drowning accident happened around this timeline from how young baby kant seems to be in the flashback).

to nurture a child into teenage while juggling work, schooling, whatever else. kant probably didn't exist in any of those moments. maybe the little bits of him that bloomed into existence happened when he was with bison. when he fell head over heels for a man who could snuff out his life in the blink of an eye.

throughout the show we see him put himself last. stealing cars because he needs to feed his brother, getting landed in a suicide mission because if he is out of the picture, his brother won't survive. falling for a man he can't be with, whose actions he cannot predict because they come from different parts of life.

and what if kant had thought chris was right about bison? he didn't get shot dead, but he sure got kidnapped, his trauma made into a mockery. and even here, as he waits for bison to change his mind, he understands him. not once do we see kant defend himself besides saying, “i was forced to”, and ultimately, none of it matters. because he knows he hurt the one he claimed to love. he knows the nature of a hitman. he knew he'd end up at death's door but he went in hoping it won't come down to that, because the alternative was his brother suffering. and he makes peace with the card he's been dealt once again.

and through all this, who was there for him? who showed him mercy? who nurtured his heart?

so like he has done every single time, kant takes a breath, shuts his eyes tight, and takes a plunge.

read more :

extra #1 | ---

[intimidating-fettuccine]

Hello! I hope you’re doing well :)

Could I have cuddling HCs with candy, night terrors and LJ? Ty in advance!

I love writing fluff like this, I hope you enjoy <3 Me casually making new LJ lore while writing this :p

Terrors:

It's rough in the beginning, I'm gonna be honest. You are this man's first for everything because when he was living on his own, his own person, his own ruler, he did not care about relationships at all, so he doesn't really understand anything except the barebones basics. The first time you ask him if it'll be okay to cuddle, he tries to think back on how Candy cuddles you (which he can barely remember because he feels embarrassed just watching you guys from inside Candy's mind), and he says that if that's what you wish, you may cuddle him. You've come very far in your relationship with Candy and Terrors at this point, so you naively assume this should go easily, but your assumptions are soon proven wrong. Terrors lays down first, on his back stiff as a board, and waits for you to join him, and you do, curling into his side, but he never moves. He stays that way for a while, to your amusement, and it takes many, many snuggle sessions for him to loosen up. Once he does, gradually wrapping an arm around you, and then two, and then holding you close to him, cuddles with Terrors become much clingier. They're firm but incredibly warm and protective. He prefers to keep you flush and tight against his chest, his arms trapping you there securely, only letting you go when you ask. He always feels he still might be doing something wrong, so he's still a little tense, but he can't deny that feeling your warmth so softly against him is a treasure he wished he'd been indulging in with you for far longer, and these days he's more than willing to cuddle you if you ever ask for it. He gets to the point that he wants to ask you himself, but he's too shy, so he tends to hover around you in a way you come to learn means he wants to snuggle you immediately.

Candy:

Candy's cuddles are nothing to sneeze at. This man is clingy in the best ways, incredibly warm, and all-encompassing as a lover, so of course he gives some of the best cuddles you'll ever indulge in, and he's pretty much always in the mood to cuddle up to you, so you're never starved for his touch. While he's quite brazen and forceful as a person, he's nearly the opposite when you first start cuddling with him at the start of your relationship until he learns what you like. He's all soft smiles and gentle words, wanting to go at your pace to not overwhelm you with his large body and stronger touches. He lets you worm your way into his arms however you'd like to, and once you do the same thing enough times, he learns what you enjoy, and always settles into the right position, readily scooping you into his arms and nuzzling into you to his heart's content. I think Candy prefers to pretty much absorb you into his body with his preferred cuddles. He likes you snug against his chest, his arms around you, your legs intertwined, his torso covering yours as he leans over you so he can cover you with his body. It makes him happy to be able to cover you and hold you so closely, so confined in his body that you've got no choice but to be completely smooshed against him. The type of partner to say they want you inside of their body when you're cuddling so you can just become one being. He tends to surprise you with snuggles when you've been together longer, as he definitely recharges from your touch and just wants to have contact with you all the time, and he's so warm and soft that you can't help but want to constantly be snuggling him yourself, so you tend to never refuse him. Candy is always happiest when he has you wrapped up in his arms.

LJ:

Another resident snuggle bug like Candy, Jack is always down for snuggles, and he's not shy about asking for them either. He's the type to just lift you up and take you away from whatever you were previously doing so he can just carry you off to bed and cuddle you whenever he gets particularly lonely. The only thing that might seem like a drawback about Jack I would say is that due to his mechanical nature, he doesn't have body warmth, so he tends to start off cold in your cuddles. During the summer it's awesome because he can cool you off from the heat outside, but not as pleasant at times like right now, during the colder winter months. However, as the executive owner of this blog and canon, I've come up with a situation; I think since he was originally made for children, that he probably has an internal heater (like a heated blanket situation) to warm up and be more pleasant to be in contact with. Meaning, that Jack can heat up his body to whatever temperature you want, which I suppose actually gives him a lead over others if he has time to heat up! So, when it's really cold, he starts heating himself up in advance, so when you get home he's already warm and ready to go, ridding you of any biting cold you had outside. His preferred cuddles I often write him with are you laying on top of him, his arms wrapped snug around you, your face snuggling into his neck. He likes feeling the weight of your body on top of him, as it makes him feel content and loved, knowing he's got you right here, safe and sound in his arms. I haven't mentioned it in a while, but Jack is able to make a calming purring sound when he's happy, and you can bet your butt he's constantly making that noise when you cuddle, calming both of you down and relaxing you.

[aishangotome]

[Gilbert] Love's Cleaning Time - Part 4

Part 3

Gilbert: What's wrong, little rabbit?

I take Gilbert's hand, which was resting on my cheek, and held it in mine.

Emma: Even so, thank you very much.

Gilbert: ......

Gilbert: You're not listening to me at all, are you?

Emma: This is my thanks after having listened to you.

Gilbert: You're forgiving my evil deeds.

Emma: …… It may be an outrageous thing to say, but……

Emma: The important thing is, "how do I perceive it now", isn't it?

I let go of his cold hand and pick up the report that Gilbert was holding. The detailed contents might be frightening to some people.

(Even I wouldn't have been able to accept this so readily in the past.)

Emma: If Michael hadn't been there at that time, I would have been attacked by bandits.

Emma: At best, I would have only had my books stolen, but at worst, I could have died.

Emma: Whatever the circumstances, Gil saved me.

Emma: Whether that was out of malice or good will …… it's up to me to decide.

Gilbert: .....

Emma: More than anything, I've come to like Gil now.

Emma: It might be difficult for me to see it as malice like I used to.

(Gilbert occasionally warns me like this so that I can keep a normal perspective.)

(…… I think he's a fair person.)

Gilbert: Haha, you poor thing.

Gilbert: But…… I'm glad you don't hate me.

(……!)

Gilbert gently brushed my hand away and stood up.

Gilbert: Let's stop chatting for now.

Gilbert: Emma, you can throw that away.

Emma: Even though it was kept so carefully?

Gilbert: Yeah, I don't need it anymore.

Gilbert: The poor little rabbit is now being directly monitored by the villain.

(That's true, too.)

(...)

(Even if I become his fiancée, I won't be able to understand everything about Gilbert's heart.)

(But…… I feel like I understand what he's thinking at this moment.)

Emma: Gil.

I put the report on the shelf and hug Gilbert with enough force to bump into him.

Gilbert: What is it?

Emma: Just to be clear, I'm not forgiving you for everything.

Emma: I sometimes can't understand Gil's evil deeds…… At those times, I'll properly object to them.

Gilbert: Oh, really?

Emma: Have you forgotten? I'm watching you so that you don't do anything bad to Rhodolite.

Emma: I'm not the only one being watched by Gil.

(I will discern my own good and evil without being swayed by Gilbert.)

(That's…… because I think that's what Gilbert expects of me the most.)

Emma: So, don't worry.

Emma: Even if I love you, I'm not that blind.

His blood-colored eyes wavered slightly––and then gently softened.

Gilbert: …… You're too much.

Gilbert: You see right through everything.

His cold hand caressed my cheek again, and his lips were sealed by the shadow that fell.

Gilbert: I was finally getting in the mood to restart cleaning.

Emma: ……Nn……Gil?

The villain didn't stop pecking at my lips, and he sensually stroked my back from my waist.

Gilbert: I don't care anymore.

Emma: ……!……The cleaning……

Gilbert: You want me to do it properly?

Emma: No……

(If he touches me like this……I don't care anymore either.)

Emma: Can we do it……tomorrow……?

The breath that escaped my lips was hot, and my body was already pleading for the cleaning to end.

Gilbert: Hahaha, you're a bad girl too, aren't you?

Emma: ……But Gil, you were the one who asked for it first.

Gilbert: Yeah, but……

Gilbert: It's your responsibility for responding to it.

-

I catch my breath as it bounces on the jet-black sheets.

Gilbert, who has me pinned down, continues to caress my skin with tantalizingly gentle touches, having taken all my clothes off.

His fingertips, which avoided touching the places I wanted to be touched and only moved around the surrounding areas, had a clear malice to them.

(...It's embarrassing to say it directly...)

Emma: Come to think of it……

Emma: Is Michael still in Rhodolite?

Gilbert: Yeah, he is.

Emma: Why…… Ah

His fingers graze the peaks of my chest, and the ache deep in my stomach intensifies.

Gilbert: Oh no, who said you were the only one I had Michael keep an eye on?

Gilbert: Actually, I asked him to watch someone else too.

(Someone else……)

(……Could it be––)

Gilbert: Haha, little rabbit. You're doing this on purpose, aren't you?

Emma: Eh……?

Gilbert: Thinking about another man while I'm right here in front of you.

Emma: ……The only thing I did on purpose was bring up Michael.

(I thought if I made him jealous, he might touch me more properly.)

Gilbert: Is that so? But it doesn't matter.

Gilbert: Why can you smile so gently while thinking about another man?

(I……was smiling.)

(But that's because––……)

Emma: ...Ah! Ah, nn—

Suddenly, the fingers that had been so gentle strongly stimulated a sensitive spot.

Emma: Haa... Wait... Aaa...Nn...

My body seemed to be more sensitive than usual, and honey immediately flowed between my legs.

Gilbert: That's terrible. I'm hurt.

Overwhelmed by a pleasure beyond imagination––

Just before I lost consciousness, the hand full of malice finally let go.

Gilbert: So, what exactly was that smile of yours about?

Gilbert: Depending on your answer……you understand, right?

He flicked my nipple with his finger, and a gasp escaped my lips.

Emma: Tha—Nn...That's not...true...

I force my ragged breathing to calm down and capture Gilbert's face in my blurred vision.

Emma: ...Gil is...

Emma: I just...thought you were a worrywart...

(He's extremely soft on people he's let his guard down around once.)

(...Though that sweetness can sometimes turn into malice––)

Gilbert: It can't be helped. Because in this world...

Gilbert: There are so many things that need to be cleaned up.

.

.

.

FIN

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[hooked-on-elvis]

THERE IS A TIME AND A PLACE FOR JOKES, PRESLEY!

AN INTERESTING INSIGHT ON ELVIS' ANTICS ONSTAGE IN THE 70s AND ARTISTS' PERSPECTIVE ON THEIR CAREER

August - September 1973, Las Vegas, NV.

"Elvis had a wonderful, zany sense of humor and I think the pictures in this book are evidence of that fact. These photographs were taken in Las Vegas in August, September 1973, when Elvis was in a specially 'zany' mood. He did such things as making funny rhymes, singing silly lyrics to his songs, coming on stage piggy back with a toy monkey in his shoulder and coming on stage in bed. The show became 'the Elvis Presley comedy hour'. Actually, it seemed to be two shows going on at the same time; one show for the audience out front and the 'inside' show for the band and singers onstage. But finally, the Colonel had a talk with Elvis about it, because some people walked out and wanted their money back. They didn't like Elvis making fun of their favorite songs and the Colonel didn't like giving money back."

— Glen D. Hardin, musician on the TCB Band at the time. March 2002. Except from the book 'Elvis: Caught In A Trap" by Arjan Deelen and (pictures by) photographer Laurens von Houten.

Okay, this surprised me a lot. I guess I was too naive to imagine Elvis could displease his audience in other scenario than by a poor vocal performances he gave when he was struggling with his health, specially just for trying to enjoy his time working, having fun with the audience and his musicians. I always looked at those silly things he did onstage as what turned his shows in very singular events, like... no gig could be like the other, regardless of the setlist or the stage costumes being the same in some cases, and that's because of his spontaneity onstage, the moments he shared a bit of who he really was in his private life, someone who enjoyed laughing and making people laugh more than anything, someone who appreciated comedy. It shocked me, to be honest, to know some members of his audiences took his playfulness as unprofessional behavior or something. How in the world could they ask for the money paid to see Elvis in flesh back? As a fan, I can understand how it is when a song means too much for you and you listen to the artist not taking it seriously... It kinda spoils the mood that song gives you, taking your attention away from whatever dear memories you get from listening to certain songs with touching lyrics. I understand that. To be honest again, the first time I've heard some of Elvis' takes from recording sessions and I could see the way his mind was not really in some of the songs sometimes but rather in his own life and whatever was going on in real time in the studio, I was like 'how is that even possible? I thought that song was important to him...' and then I begin to appreciate having a glimpse of what he was like behind the scenes, but that came with time, at first I was a little disappointed but not with him, but with the way I took the songs he recorded to my heart as they were officially released, without considering the actual life of someone who makes those songs. I can understand the fans who were not pleased by Elvis' silly jokes, changing the lyrics, and I can also see why Elvis did it. He was singing practically the same "greatest hits" with little freedom to explore his less known/successful songs on stage or even feel free to sing whatever songs he was in the mood to, like a normal person can do. He was a professional and tried to balance giving what people wanted from him with not letting the boredom take his spirit (because that would show like it did in some moments in his career). I can understand his side of the issue... it must be awful to sing the same damn songs many times in a row in order to get a master take, and the same in his shows, singing the same songs day after day... There is a moment you have to be sick of it! You can't avoid it. Elvis was a person who loved novelties, loved feeling challenged, loved experiencing the world and having first times. Of course there was moments where he was singing his hits more or less in auto pilot, not intently listening or feeling the words, but just reproducing them the best way he could, in order to please his fans. But feeling sick of being stuck is a real thing, and that's when he had to be spontaneous to make the moment new to him in some way, even if with just a silly little joke. Anyhow, it's interesting to have the perceptive from an artist like that. I deeply appreciate him taking the risk of not pleasing people, because that meant he was being true to himself and was trying the best he could to take care of his own mental and emotional health.

Again, thank you @eapep for letting me know how to find this great book online. In case you want to read it too, click here (archive.org link to the uploaded file).

[tentenismybitch]

ok team gai-centric tenten headcanons now:

(handwaving canon cus idk if they even still have anbu after the war lmao but) she wants to be an ANBU and specifically requests it when kakashi becomes hokage - since kakashi is her sensei’s husband best friend, she incorrectly believes that he will grant her request. it’s because of this that the opposite happens: he explicitly DENIES her repeated requests and when she eventually confronts him about it, he’s like: well. me and gai care about you too much for me to fuck you up like that. here is a genin team that would benefit from your tutelage instead :)

tenten was neji's first real friend. but also. he used to piss her off BAD with all his fate and destiny talk, and for being an uptight clan-kid. she definitely used to pick fights with him in their academy days. he often won, but she discovered his blindspot because one time he turns his back on her and she throws a rock at him and it actually hits him. she's like "oh word? 👀 that vision's not quite 360 is it HYUGA?"

also. kinda pisses me off that neji is on a team with ROCK LEE and TENTEN, two of the canonically most pleasant, friendly and optimistic people in the konoha 11/12, and their sensei is fucking MAITO GAI, but it takes getting beat by naruto, some random jerkwad he just met, to change neji’s perspective on fate and make him less driven by his anger and hopelessness. i absolutely do not accept that, though i understand it had to happen because this is Naruto the Manga. IN MY MIND THO, naruto just echoes and drives home sentiments that neji’s LITERAL TEAM AND ONLY LOVED ONES have been drilling into him for the entire year that they have been on a team before he even met naruto, and also probably insisted on when they were still in the academy. bffr

RELATEDLY: sorry, but. for a while. tenten does not like hinata. she feels bad and guilty about it, but, well, two things. 1) (at least according to narutopedia) tenten allegedly hates weak people. based purely on what she hears from neji, she would probably categorize hinata as a weak person and 2) even if she didn’t, as neji’s literal only friend and someone who understands injustice, she would empathize with him and his hatred for the main house. in her child’s/teenage understanding of it all, she would find it perfectly reasonable that neji hates hinata, and in defense of her friend, would also not like her. she is never outright mean to hinata, because she’s not cruel! she just doesn’t try particularly hard to be her friend! hinata might not even notice it herself!! and she gets over it eventually!!

she also likes spicy food just not as spicy as gai and lee like it. her spice tolerance is like. she can eat buldak spicy ramen (original) but wouldn't touch 2x spicy, which gai and lee could eat regularly. neji cannot handle spicy food at all, bless his heart <3

this is going to be a hot take (its my headcanon tho so who cares) but. gai tries to teach them all how to open the gates. neji can't do it at all; tenten can only get as far as the 4th gate, the gate of pain

tenten is the first to kill someone and she is...not as upset about it as gai, lee, and neji thought she would be. in fact, her callousness about it scares gai a little bit and he has to give her a Talk about the Value of Human Life, even when it is an Enemy's Life.

also. see headcanon #1 on this list. when she requests to be anbu kakashi remembers this and is like "hm. this kid's got a latent bloodlust. maybe no anbu!"

because my kakagai goggles are always on: kakashi and gai try to be discreet about their relationship at first but tenten's very observant. whenever kakagai is acting a little too weird for her she's like "just make out already DAMN!"

speaking of kakashi, after naruto leaves, since tsunade has taken over sakura's training, he hangs out with team gai during their training sessions (that's their Stepdad ok)

ok. i'm disregarding the filler that explains how everyone became a chunin for this one:

after losing to temari so quickly and brutally, tenten OBSESSES over proving herself in this specific way. chunin exams are apparently held twice a year, so they register again–lee and neji are lowkey not ready after both getting major surgeries just a few months before, but they see how important it is to her so they register anyway and both end up getting knocked out in their final matches. that's right baby: tenten becomes a chunin first! lee and neji follow in the next exams six months later

speaking of disregarding canon: instead of gai holding them back a year, i hc that when it was time to register for the chunin exams when they were more newly a team, tenten opts not to register because she thinks they are not cohesive enough as a team (cus neji and lee are always getting into it.) neji and lee are very mad at her for this but she's actually right

[yes-sirr]

Apologies Could Work Sometimes

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x Reader

WC: 1,923

Rating: Explicit, 18+ MDNI.

AO3 Link

Summary: After breaking up with Aaron years ago, you guys try and make it work a second time around. Not having dealt with the last breakup, you decide for the both of you to call it quits. You realize that this time around (final time you hope!) you actually need to make it up to Aaron after breaking his heart.

--

Aaron sits in his car, parked outside your house. He's been here for hours, debating whether to knock on your door or give you space. His heart aches with a mix of sadness, guilt, and longing. He finally makes up his mind and gets out of the car, approaching your door with heavy footsteps. He raises his hand to knock, then pauses, listening for any signs of life inside. After a moment, he decides to text you instead. "Princess, I'm outside your house. Can we talk?"

You come to your door. You look out the little window just to see what you have in store and your heart breaks. Aaron's shoulders are slumped over looking down at his phone waiting for a response you know won't come. You open the door and say, "Aaron, go home."

At the sound of your cold, distant tone, Aaron's heart clenches painfully. He looks at you through the doorway, his usual calm demeanor shattered by the sight of your red-rimmed eyes and pale complexion. He steps closer, his voice cracking with emotion. "Please, princess...just hear me out. I fucked up, okay? I let my job consume me, and I pushed you away when I should've pulled you closer." He reaches out hesitantly, his thumb brushing against your tear-stained cheek. "I love you. And I'm so sorry for hurting you."

You look at him heartbroken because you can't handle having the same old issues you had the last time you guys broke up. You just don't want to let it get too far along this time. It's only been two days since you've seen each other again and everything is already falling apart. You let out the heaviest sigh. "I love you too. Loving you has never been the problem. We had a good thing. But life happened. We went our separate ways. We found each other again and it was great but nothing was different this time so the same issues came back. I'm okay to let this go. I am okay to let you go."

Aaron's heart breaks at your words, tears streaming down his face. He knows you're right, but the thought of losing you forever is unbearable. He takes a deep, shuddering breath, trying to compose himself. "I understand...and I respect your decision." He wipes his tears roughly, his voice barely above a whisper. "Just...promise me one thing, princess. Promise me that if you ever find happiness again, it'll be with someone who deserves you. Who loves you fiercely and protects you like I failed to." He turns to leave, pausing at the steps. "I'll always love you. Forever and always."

You close the door and whisper to yourself, "I will always love you Aaron Hotchner. Forever and always."

--

A month has passed since that fateful night. Aaron Hotchner has thrown himself back into his work, trying to distract himself from the constant ache in his chest. One evening, he receives an unexpected visit from a familiar face. You stand on his doorstep, looking nervous yet determined. You knock on the door. Once he opens the door, you say, "Aaron...we need to talk."

Aaron's heart skips a beat at the sight of you, his eyes widening in shock. He takes in your appearance, noticing the faint bags under your eyes and the slight pallor of your skin. Despite everything, he can't help but be drawn to you, his gaze lingering on your face. "Princess, what are you doing here?" He asks, his voice rough and barely contained. He steps aside, allowing you to enter his home. "Come in, please."

Your heart clenches at the nickname. You think maybe he's not mad at how you ended things. You turn around to face him and ask, "How are you doing?"

Aaron closes the door behind you, leaning against it for support. He runs a hand through his messy hair, avoiding eye contact as he responds. "I'm surviving...barely. Every day is a struggle without you, princess. Your absence is a constant reminder of what we lost."

You wait in silence for a moment, not sure what to say. "Aren't you going to ask how I'm doing?"

Aaron's gaze snaps to yours, his brown eyes searching yours intensely. He notices the way you fidget with your hands, the slight tremble in your voice, and the way you bite your lower lip. "Fuck, I'm an idiot." He pushes off the door, closing the distance between you two. "How are you, really? Are you eating enough? Sleeping enough?" He cups your face gently, his thumbs brushing against your cheeks. He puts his forehead against yours and whispers, "Are you breaking down without me?"

You lean your face into his forehead and hold his hands in yours so now you're both cupping your face. "I was wrong to push you away. I was wrong to say that things weren't different. I was wrong to say I was okay to let you go. I am not okay. I miss you. I need you. I want you. All the time. I am so sorry, Aaron"

Aaron's heart shatters at your words, tears pricking at the corners of his eyes. He pulls you into his arms, holding you tightly against his chest. His face buries itself in the crook of your neck, inhaling your scent deeply. "Fuck, baby..." He sobs quietly, his strong facade crumbling. "I missed you so fucking much. I missed your smile, your laugh, your presence. I missed waking up next to you, hearing your voice, touching you" He kisses your neck repeatedly, his lips muffled against your skin.

"I brought you a present," you whisper against his ear.

Aaron pulls back slightly, wiping at his tears with the back of his hand. He looks at you with a mixture of curiosity and wariness, his voice hoarse from crying. "A present?" He sniffles, trying to compose himself. "What is it?" He asks, his eyes flicking to the mysterious box you pull out of your pocket. "Is it something to make up for breaking my heart?" He says bitterly, his voice laced with hurt and longing. "Or is it just an apology gift to ease your conscience?" He reaches out hesitantly, his fingers hovering over the box.

"You can tell me if it makes up for anything. But the first night we were together after we saw each other again, you went downstairs to get us some food. You were taking a long time so I decided to take some pictures for you."

He opens the box to find polaroids of you in salacious positions looking up at the camera wanton. "At the time, I thought it would be a good birthday present but I couldn't give it to you until I apologized to you at first."

Aaron's breath catches in his throat as he stares at the polaroids, his eyes wide with surprise and raw hunger. He flips through them slowly, taking in each sultry pose and provocative glance directed solely at him. His heart pounds in his chest, his face flushing a deep shade of red as he imagines you posing like that just for him. "Holy fuck" He mutters under his breath, his voice shaking with emotion. "These are...these are incredible." He looks down at you, his brown eyes burning with intensity and unshed tears. "You did this for me? To apologize?"

You look up at him nodding hoping this will absolve you. 

He sets the box aside, standing up straight. "Show me. Right now. Pose for me like you did in these photos."

You fall to your knees with your hands resting on his thighs. You look up at him, open your mouth wide, and stick your tongue out ready for him to use. Just how you look in the first polaroid.

Aaron's legs nearly buckle at the sight before him. He hurriedly undoes his belt, unbuttoning his jeans and pushing them down along with his boxers. His hard, throbbing cock springs free, already leaking precome. Without hesitation, he grasps the base and guides himself towards your waiting mouth. "Fuck, princess" He groans deeply, his voice shaking with barely restrained desire. "Open wider. Let me fuck that pretty little mouth of yours. Make it up to me with those perfect lips and that sweet throat" He begins to thrust shallowly, testing your limits as he speaks through gritted teeth. "Apologize with your mouth, sweetheart. Apologize with your throat."

You don't give him a chance to be gentle with you. You grab his ass and pull him into you making sure you gag on his cock. You bob your head back and forth letting your tongue line the bottom of his length and making sure the head of his cock hits the back of your throat.

Aaron's eyes roll back as you suddenly take him deep, your warm, wet mouth engulfing his entire length. He lets out a loud, guttural groan, his hands flying to your head to steady himself. His hips move on their own accord, pistoning in and out of your throat, the sound of gagging and choking filling the room. "Fuck, princess! Your mouth is heaven. It's so fucking tight and hot" He pants heavily, his abs contracting with each thrust. "Look up at me while you suck my cock, sweetheart."

You let him take control of you. He holds your head in place while he fucks your mouth. You look up at him hoping he forgives you. You look up at him hoping this is enough for the heartbreak. You look up at him hoping he hurts you the way you hurt him.

Aaron's gaze locks onto yours, his brown eyes piercing and intense as he continues to use your mouth mercilessly. He sees the hope and desperation in your eyes, and it only fuels his anger and pain. He wants to break you, to punish you for the heartache you caused him. "You think sucking my cock is enough to make up for the way you tore me apart?" He sneers, his voice dripping with venom as he pulls you closer, his hips snapping forward, his thick member hitting the back of your throat with brutal force.

You grab onto his wrists and just hold on to let him know its okay. You keep swallowing his cock and the leaking precome as he deepthroats you.

For a moment, his pace slows, his touch gentling. But then, the rage and hurt resurface, driving him to continue his punishing rhythm. "You destroyed me, and all you can do is sit there and swallow my fucking cum like it means anything!" He growls, his hips moving faster, his thickness swelling in your mouth. "Swallow it all, you stupid bitch. Choke on my seed and remember what you did to me." With a final, brutal thrust, he comes undone, his hot essence flooding your mouth.

As he pulls out, his release still leaking from the corners of your mouth, he yanks you up by your hair, forcing you to stand. His lips crash onto yours in a brutal, possessive kiss, his tongue invading your mouth, tasting himself on your lips. He bites your bottom lip hard enough to draw blood, his fingers tightening in your hair. "You're going to stay here with me tonight, whether you like it or not. Now that you're back, I am NOT letting you go" He growls against your mouth, his eyes blazing with a dangerous mix of anger, hurt, and possessiveness.

"Yes, anything you want sir."

[kakusu-shipping]

🦃, 🔮, teruteru!!!!!!!!!!

Pumpkin sweetie pie!!! Blessed for him!!!!

🦃 Turkey ― Have you gone through a haunted house with your f/o? how did it go?

We did, once. Teruteru admitted later it's because he thought I'd scare easily and he could show how brave and cool he was and hold my hand and comfort me and all that. That's a fair assumption honestly, I am a big cry baby about basically everything other than Actual Horror.

The opposite ended up happening, I held his hand and he hid behind me and swore like a sailor every time anything jumped out at us. He's probably would have just bolted through the entire thing if I wasn't holding his hand and walking so calmly through everything, so I was probably actually actively making it worse for him thinking back on it.

🔮Crystal ball ― Tell us about a magical AU with your f/o!

A lot of people when making Magic/Monster AUs will make Teruteru a Satyr. And I mean... I can understand why I guess

Metamatronic's Cryptid AU is the one I know best out of all these AUs so it's the one I'd base a magical au version of myself on.. I'm not a very AU creative person..

The idea is Hope's Peak is a Monster school and everyone is a different type of monster who is learning to blend in to the human world, minus the Ultimate Lucky Students who are Human and (mostly) unaware.

I always default to Vampire but that's already taken in this pre-existing AU and I love molding to canon, along with Angel (kind of) so that's my two big aesthetics out...

I guess a Dragon, or Dragon-born style monster would work. The Ultimate Collectors were origonally built with a Dragon motif I abandoned very quickly, they're all about their Horde as collectors and all. It works out.

Unfortunately in doing so I have made Me/Teruteru into a Donkey/Dragon from Shrek style ship and I don't know how I feel about that.

[jesuis-assez]

Tim unconsciously sending/showing signals of his feelings for Lucy

[amelikos]

The thought that Amethio may have decided to take a step forward and try to talk to his father after considering his conversation with Liko in the cave and taking her words to heart.

[sskk-manifesto]

Finally got around to watching ep 11 (´；ω；｀)

[firebirdsdaughter]

I'm divided…

… I like Rukia getting something to do, I like the Kuchiki sibs plus their idiot, I like that she was allowed to hold her own despite this being a 2000s shonen manga, you know what I mean. Like for what it was many of the women in BLEACH made it through fairly well and I like that. I like Rukia being cool, I like her Bankai, I like it.

But at the same time… Like I get why it was her, and I like it, and I don't so much mind as… Well, I just kinda wish that Renji had gotten to kill As Nodt, since he was the one who actually had to watch Byakuya get maimed like that? Like obvi Rukia deserves a shot too, like I said, I understand it being her and I don't mind, I just kinda would… Also like to see a reality where Renji got to do him in.

Not necessarily in canon, bc yes, give Rukia more to do? Like I just want an au where Renji got him. Them. Finish what he tried to start before getting punted.

It's like I like the way it was and I wouldn't actually change it bc we always need more women being able to fight on their own, and I liked what was done. I loved Byakuya just showing up to get his bankai back and then leaving the rest to his sister, I love love love her getting Bankai.

I just. Want to see the version where Renji gets a go at him after having to watch that.

Like I don't want to write it myself, but I want it.

[b0amagination]

Looked at this post earlier and said "nah I didn't do that" and just now unlocked a memory of a doctor play kit at the house of some extended family members. Whenever I was there I would find an excuse to sneak away from the Intense Ping Pong Games in the basement to the other room where they kept it so I could put on the fake bandages and play make believe that I was hurt.

And then try to get other people's attention so they'd come play hurt with me.

No idea why nobody was as invested in pretending to be in pain as I was.

When you were at school or at the playground playing those ~capture the other team~ games, were you an "oh no!! :((( :3c I am captured :( you got me! :))" kinda child or were you normal?

[chuluoyi]

✎ all of me

- gojo satoru x reader

you understand that some things in marriage just needs compromise. and he soon understands too, when you're at your most vulnerable and he fails to be by your side when you need him the most

genre: angst, hurt/comfort, established relationship (you're married & have a son!) argument, feral gojo, mentions of injury & blood, fluff

note: if it isn't obvious by now i'm in the mood of angst-hurt/comfort this week HEHE :)) this is longer than the usual love entry, so i hope you'll enjoy it!

a part of gojo's love entries

general masterlist

Bantering with your husband is not uncommon―in fact, it happens on daily basis.

"Satoru― I'm talking to you!"

But having serious arguments with him is another matter entirely.

Your fists tightening at your sides, facing his unamused expression. How insufferable is he? You told him that everyday, but right now, he's truly surpassed previous levels of infuriating behavior.

"And I can hear you, sweetheart," he retorted, casting a glance your way. The term of endearment he used for you sounding almost like a sneer to your ears and you felt offended.

"I don't think you're taking this seriously," you griped, trying to calm your emotions, still balling your hands. "Someone is following our son on his way back from school―how can you be this... flippant?!"

Numerous photograph of your son exiting the school building from different angles had arrived in your mailbox, and if it wasn't a creepy warning from those who placed a target on his back, then you didn't know what it was.

Satoru let out an exasperated grunt. "I'm telling you, I'll pick him up for the rest of the week. No one will lay a hand on him."

You gritted your teeth. "And I'm telling you, they're trying to make you do just that. Even morons know not to mess with you― they're leaving hints, and you're taking the bait!"

Contrary to what you believed, Satoru felt just as worried as you upon knowing that someone might have marked his precious son, who was now six years old and had recently started attending preschool.

But this is where your approaches differ. You are always the cautious one, overanalyzing each detail, while he leans towards being impulsive, often resorting to brute force.

"Who do you think can stand a chance against me?" Satoru challenged with a real sneer this time. "Remember my words, wife, no one is going to hurt me, you or our baby. I'll end them where they stand."

"That's not the point!" you threw your hands in the air, irate. "Satoru, they're going to take advantage of―"

"Look, I don't want to argue with you." Satoru's gaze was hard on you, his tone clipped, and it made you stiffen. "His safety comes first— and you, of all people, should know I'd never let anything happen to him. You need to quit nitpicking and have a little faith in me."

"I know you are more than capable, but you are not―!"

And then he said it, and his words piercing through you like a knife―

"Don't compare me to you," your husband remarked a little too coldly. "I can do things you can't. Just rest your pretty head, I'll take care of the rest."

Nevermind that he blatantly dismissed your skills as a jujutsu sorcerer, nevermind that he totally didn't listen to you at all―he just went and made himself look like some sort unparalleled god, forgetting how much his hubris could actually take him.

And all these thoughts only made you angrier.

"So be it then." You tried desperately to hold yourself from shaking because you'd be damned if you showed it to him. "A word of advice, Satoru: beware of your arrogance."

With those words, you spun around, marching off toward your son's room, because no way in hell was you going to sleep with that obnoxious prick tonight.

But when you caught the sight of your baby scuttling away from the gap in the door, a fragment of your heart crumbled. Oh. He has seen it all.

In Gojo Satoru's mind, he is made of two things: a powerful jujutsu sorcerer and a family man.

With his immense strength, comes a certain responsibility. And with that responsibility, certain habits have formed. If you just took a few seconds to breathe and looked back throughout the past decade he'd spent with you, you'd know that in fact―

It was also his way to shield you. Satoru stands by the principle that you and his little boy must be protected at all cost, and he most certainly would pull all stops to do just that.

But frankly, he couldn't deny that he felt insulted by how defiant you were. Did you really think he would let anyone ever touch your―his―son? He wouldn't, they'd meet his wrath first and you should've known that.

Still, something akin to guilt nudged at his conscience as he lay alone in your shared bed that night. It felt strange not having you cuddling him. He felt empty.

. . .

None of your shampoo-scented pillow, none of your nightdresses, all of it replaced by a single photo hanging in the wall and the urn of ashes—

Abruptly, he jerked his eyes open, shaken from the most dreadful nightmare he had experienced—

Of you no longer by his side.

“Mama.” Your little boy looked up to you with his doe-blue eyes in the next day, his hand gripping yours. “I’ll be fine.”

You were accompanying him to the preschool. While Satoru had requested Ichiji to drive him, you insisted on tagging along to keep a watchful eye as well. You'd leave your husband to pick him up later just as he wanted.

“Huh?” you turned to him, tilting your head.

“I'll stick by Uncle Ichiji's side the entire time,” he replied in a murmur. “And papa will be picking me up too later. If there are bad guys, they'll get him first.”

You bit your lip, feeling a wave of guilt wash over you. Your boy witnessed your outburst last night and hadn't inquired about it until now, and even then, he was trying to reassure you.

“So… don’t fight.” His round, cerulean eyes then darted towards you, blinking hesitantly, causing you to catch your breath.

He looks so much like Satoru. At six years old, he was the spitting image of him, except his personality—he took after you in that area. It was as if your son was a softer, more innocent version of him. And your heart twisted, remembering your argument last night.

Don't compare me to you.

With a sigh, you bent down to be eye-level with him and managed a smile, holding both of his little hands. “I’m sorry… it was just misunderstanding last night, okay? Don’t worry.”

“…really?”

“Really. Mama and papa were just tired,” you tried to reason, a thin smile on your face. "It's going to be okay, just like you said, yeah? Papa will beat the bad guys out there."

“Will he pull through...? If they bring a knife, and he's just there laughing, they can cut him.”

A giggle escaped your lips at your baby's innocent wonderings, easing the ache in your heart as you recalled how Satoru humored him in so many ways.

You gently poked your son in the cheek. "Nah, do you remember what he always goes on about?"

He puffed up his cheeks in response, his expression turning sour as if combing through memories of hundreds of shenanigans Satoru had instigated to recall his words. You let out a hearty chuckle, finding him so adorable.

"He's strong, he's going to win. He always does."

"Oh. Mmm." Your son scrunched up his nose cutely, before looking away and squeezing your hand. A sincerer smile bloomed in your lips, heart melting at the sight of your growing munchkin.

You will protect him. And maybe you could patch things up with Satoru later that night. Maybe yesterday you were just too paranoid.

That was the plan... at least until your son suddenly screamed—someone wrenching him from your grasp. Without a second thought, you reacted, flipping the attacker away from you and him.

. . . and that was the beginning of how everything started to unravel so terribly that day.

"Gojo-san...! There's been an incident!"

He got that call right after he finished some things with Yaga. Satoru teleported to the preschool right away, only to be greeted by a scene of utter chaos.

Several teachers stood outside the building, and police officers were present at the scene. It was all a blur of cursed energy until his eyes caught sight of—

His little boy, red-faced and obviously in fear, was clinging to Ichiji, who was frantically making calls. Some teachers gathered around him were seemingly trying to coax him to speak.

He didn't waste a second to dash towards him, tearing through the crowd.

"Are you okay? Hey, buddy, what happened?" Satoru pulled him away from Ichiji and turned him over, crouching to his level to check for any signs of injury or harm.

And upon seeing him actually here, his son's eyes immediately welled up with tears, and Satoru felt a chill run through his veins as he broke into sobs, which quickly turned into heart-wrenching wails.

"Mama—! F-find mama—!" the little boy choked out through his tears, clutching onto his shirt tightly and crumbling in his embrace, thoroughly inconsolable.

Satoru's sharp gaze quickly swept over the scene, seeking any clues, while he tightened his hold over him. It was then he noticed traces of your cursed energy mingled with blood.

They hurt you.

"Hey, kiddo—listen to me, it's going to be alright, yeah?" Satoru said, gently pulling away to wipe away his tears, holding the boy's face tenderly in his hands. "Go with Ichiji for now, okay? I'm going to bring mama back, I promise."

He didn't need to be told twice. Your son is always obedient when it matters the most. He gave him a small nod, still shaking with tears.

"Don't worry," he flashed a reassuring smile and ruffled his hair. "I'm the strongest, remember? I'll get her back," he vowed once again. "She'll be fine. Wait for me until then, yeah?"

Ichiji was ready to leave as he had called for those in headquarters as backup in case anything were to happen again. Trusting him to keep his son safe, Satoru took off as soon as he could no longer see the sight of his son's tear-streaked face trying to watch him as the car pulled away.

"I won't repeat myself— where is my wife?"

Satoru wasn't playing this time. He skipped past taunts and just plain threats. These little fries, he thought.

The man he held by the throat was in a lot of distress. "Hyaaa! It's him! Please, please, let me go! I'm acting under orders!"

He then flung him across the wall— might have added more cursed energy than necessary.

At the moment, his entire focus was on trying to locate you. He couldn't let his mind wander to anything else; in fact, he didn't permit himself to.

It didn't take him long to piece together the general location of where you were through the residual of your cursed energy. They stationed several hooligans in this abandoned warehouse to stall him, but he got rid of them quickly and he could sense that you were close by.

"It's Gojo Satoru!"

"Run! Ruuuun!"

What a pain. They picked the wrong person to mess with, and Satoru's lips curled into a manic grin as he opened his palm, pulling them in—

"Cursed Technique Lapse: Blue."

Chaos erupted as the building collapsed around him. He hoped you would realize he was here and manage to avoid getting caught in the wreckage. He was sure you'd know though.

And true to his thoughts, soon he found you— blasting your attacker away with a powerful kick.

Satoru thought that you were a sight to behold, really. And he was about to call out to you when he felt it.

It happened almost in an instant. The way his heart dropped to his stomach, and how his body reacted, barely whispering the incantation for Red as he shot it at something lurking behind you—

At that moment, the only thing you were aware of was the foul stench of a curse. Time seemed to stop before the overwhelming force of Red expelled it away from you.

But before then, you experienced a searing, white-hot pain that scorched through your flesh and pierced your abdomen—

"Y/N―fuck―!" The voice that came from Satoru's throat was raw and laden with panic.

He pulled you against him protectively as you collapsed, blinded by pain. He immediately felt warmth spreading across his lower body—your blood was rapidly drenching his shirt, and he felt a shiver down his spine.

You held onto him tightly while suppressing your scream, feeling every bit of your strength drain away along with the dark crimson blood that poured out of you.

"―toru―" you managed to croak amidst the scalding pain, curling and whimpering in his hold.

"Hey― sweetheart, please―" his voice rang in your ears, as he pressed down on your wound. His hands were shaking, and you clawed at him and groaned in agony. "I-I'm taking you back now― You're going to be alright, yeah?"

The wound was beyond anything you had experienced before, causing you to cry out and gasp for air. It was almost as if something fried your insides. It was hard to stay conscious.

"I've got you now. You're going to be okay." His voice was coarse, as he hurriedly carried you out. And he tried not to let the full-blown panic take over him when your body went limp in his arms, your breaths slowing, head lolling in his chest.

"You're going to be alright! You hear me, sweetheart? You're going to make it. Our baby― he's waiting for you. I promise you, you're going to be fine―"

Perhaps he was trying to tell that to himself, because despite the excruciating pain, a wave of reassurance washed over you.

You were in the arms of the strongest sorcerer alive, what more could you possibly afraid of?

A special grade curse. They had actually unleashed a potent curse and likely aimed at him as their final card—until it veered off course and struck you, leaving a searing gash across your abdomen.

Satoru felt numb as he sat in the waiting room in his bloodied uniform. You got hurt so terribly right in front of his eyes, and all he could feel was this profound void that seemed to bore through him and pierced his soul.

He was supposed to protect you. He said it to your face that nothing and no one would touch your son, and it was in his wedding vows that he'd protect you with his life too.

And yet what happened?

If only he was faster. If only he was able to pull you to him and protect you with his infinity—none of this shit would have happened.

Seeing your face twisted in agony and smeared with blood made him feel sick to his stomach. Inside that OR, you hovered on the brink of life and death, and he was here, unable to do anything.

Satoru rested his head against the wall, feeling a sharp pain surge through his chest. He remembered waking up to your face every morning, the way your touches felt, and how you had brightened his world for the past decade. If he lost you now... he wouldn't survive it. He would wreck anything, everything—

"Papa!" and came his voice of reason. Satoru immediately discarded his bloodstained jacket by instinct, throwing it away before his boy could see it, with Ichiji and Megumi closely trailing behind.

His son crashed himself into him and threw his little arms around his torso, crying—and in that very second, the thump of his heart sounded louder in his ears. Somehow it felt like a knife that twisted his insides.

"Hey, kiddo." Satoru repositioned him so that he would sit on his lap and hugged him, patting him in the back. "There, there... it's alright, yeah? Mama is inside, she'll get better soon."

Your little boy pulled away and wiped his eyes, and Satoru chuckled as he helped him blow his nose. His child was incredibly adorable, and his actions mirrored yours to such an extent that it made Satoru's heart soften.

"Mama g-got hurt trying to... tell me to g-go..." the boy suddenly said amidst his quieter sniffles. "And... she s-said... papa— i-is strong and g-going to win..."

You believe in him. Ignoring the ache in his chest, only able to reply him with a "Yeah..."

Not long after, Shoko emerged from the operating room and informed him that the surgery had been successful, though you would likely need to have a one-week stay in the hospital for observation. He intended to move you to the VIP suite and stay the night there, but then he remembered his son, who was holding his hand.

Satoru crouched down and patted him in the head, fixing him a smile. "See? Mama is okay, but she needs to sleep here to get even better. Now you go home first with big brother Megumi, yeah?"

Your son adored Megumi and often begged you to let him stay over at his place, but this time he looked hesitant, fiddling with his little fingers. "Really? Mama will be home... soon?"

"Mm-hmm, the more she sleeps here, the faster she'll go back home, alright?"

And with that, his baby nodded and Satoru turned to Megumi with a nod. "Thank you for this, Megumi."

The boy whose life he had once saved on some sort of a whim, now grown up and shared the same concern he had for you, Fushiguro Megumi had never before witnessed his benefactor expressing such sincere gratitude for anything before.

When you came to, your body felt as heavy as lead.

The discomfort in your abdomen made you flinch, and you almost let out a groan until you turned to your side and saw him.

Satoru was asleep while sitting in the sofa next to your bed, dark circles evident under his eyes. It might have been your imagination, but his cheeks appeared to be slightly red too.

You tried to recall what had happened to you when it came back—you urging your son to run away as you let yourself being taken away, almost escaping from that warehouse, the flash of excruciating pain, and Satoru's stricken voice.

So he must've been here since last night. Any remnants of your disagreement seemed to have vanished, seeing him there with you, barely covering himself with the blanket, with a frown still marking his forehead even in his sleep.

You wanted to reach out to him until the movement sent a sharp jab to your stomach and you cried out a bit.

In that split second, Satoru's eyes jerked open, and realizing you were awake, his gaze locked onto yours. "Y/N—" But your strained whimper and expression told him everything. "Does it hurt? I-I'll get Shoko, wait—"

And then he hit the call button. Throughout it all, he kept a firm grip on your hand for reassurance. A few minutes later, Shoko arrived and examined your wound, subsequently administering painkillers to alleviate your discomfort.

"It's going to leave a scar," she explained grimly, showing the mangled skin where the curse had made its mark on you, and seeing that, Satoru clenched his fists.

Shoko sighed, empathizing with her friend's frustration. "It's going to fade with time, don't worry. You did well, Gojo. You brought her here quickly. Had you been even slightly later, there could have been an irreversible damage to her organs."

But your husband remained quiet, unable to bring himself to look at you. And after she left, you tried to finally voice your question to him.

"O-our—"

"He's fine," Satoru immediately answered, squeezing your hand. "Our boy is fine. I'll tell Megumi to visit later—he's with him."

A sigh of relief came out of you. "Thank... goodness."

But his expression seemed to fall even further after hearing your response. Satoru settled himself on the seat next to you and lowered the rail on your bed, allowing you to be even closer to each other.

"Do you not feel any pain anymore?" he asked then, gently tucking a strand of your hair behind your ear. He looked so sad, a stark contrast of how he usually was, and it bugged you.

"No... I feel fine now."

"Then, can I hug you?"

Of course you nodded without a second thought, and carefully, he wrapped his arms around your body, pulling you close and resting his face on the crook of your neck.

You knew what it was. Satoru was still visibly shaken by what had happened to you, and he wasn't great at expressing himself, so he tried to find consolation through this physical closeness instead.

"I'm okay..." you patted his back, trying to convince him. "I'm alright now, yeah?" But to your surprise, suddenly his whole body started to shake. "Satoru...?"

“…’m sorry.” His voice was barely above a whisper as he nuzzled you. “I shouldn't... have let you get this hurt...”

It always amazes you how Satoru always gets this distressed whenever you sustain any injury. You had seen him cry precisely two times now—once after you gave birth to your son and experienced severe bleeding, and now.

"It's not your fault..." you whispered in response. "You... have protected me well."

He held you tighter, his tone faltering. "I didn't."

"You have..." you stroked his hair, trying to convince him. "I'm still here, aren't I?"

Hearing you say that made Satoru's chest ache. The thought of something like this happening to you was unimaginable, and now that it had, he couldn't come to terms with seeing you hurt right in front of him.

"Don't—" he choked on his voice, his breath trembled against your neck. "Don't ever put yourself in danger again. If something happened to you, I wouldn't be able to live with myself..."

You couldn't make that promise. Despite the pleading in his voice, you knew deep down that your son's life—and his—meant more, and given the chance, you would obviously save theirs for yours.

“Satoru... I love you, you know that, right?”

So you simply embraced him close, hoping that in this life, you would live long enough that he would never have to see you like this again.

Epilogue

"Papa, how do I become stronger?"

Satoru blinked when his son asked him that so innocently and curiously, taken aback as he led him to your private room later that afternoon. "Oh? What brought this on?"

His first and only son, a perfect miniature of himself, pursed his lips. "I don't want Mama to get hurt again..."

Satoru's heart warmed at his baby’s sincere words, and despite himself, he chuckled.

"What's funny?" his son leveled a glare at him. "I'm being serious."

"Well, aren't you such a good boy? Don't worry, kiddo, I'll teach you my ways~"

"What ways?"

"Well, no need to rush, pumpkin. First of all, you will have to harness your skills and then you have to be more like me—"

"Do I have to be like you…? Is there no other way?"

"—? What's wrong with being more like me?"

"Everything...?"

[aishangotome]

[Gilbert] Love's Cleaning Time - Part 1

In the mighty military nation of Obsidian, its ruler, despite their noble status, keeps no servants by their side.

Therefore, they must attend to all their personal needs, except for meals ––

Emma: Gil, what should we do with that shelf?

Gilbert: Ah, please take care of it. I don't believe it holds any classified information.

Emma: Leave it to me.

Inside Gilbert's study, a place strictly off-limits to outsiders, I take items from the shelves, dust them off, and put them back in their places.

It's a simple task, but the study is vast, and before I knew it, the sun has set.

(But it's visibly getting cleaner.)

(It's tiring, but rewarding and fun.)

It seems that in the past, Roderich used to help with this, but since I arrived, I've been given that role.

Gilbert: It's just that...

Gilbert: I'm bored.

Emma: We're almost done, so let's keep going.

Gilbert: That 'almost done' is the troublesome part.

Gilbert: Little rabbit, how can you keep going without getting bored?

Emma: Of course I'm going to do my best if Gil needs me!

Emma: There aren't many ways I can be useful, so I want to give it my all when I have the chance.

(...? What's in this box?)

While talking, I take a document box engraved with a rose carving from the shelf.

It's unexpectedly heavy, putting the arm strength I've developed from my bookstore job to the test.

Gilbert: What are you saying? You're always helping me.

Gilbert: Thank you.

Emma: !?

It seems Prince Gilbert had approached me from behind without me noticing. Surprised by the kindness in his "thank you" whispered into my ear, I accidentally drop the document box I was holding.

Emma: I-I'm so sorry!

Gilbert: Ahaha, you're so easy to startle.

The impact of hitting the floor scatters the contents of the box, documents flying everywhere.

Prince Gilbert is laughing, but I feel like I'm about to faint.

I hurriedly gather the documents, trying to put them back in the box.

––In doing so, the words inevitably catch my eye.

Emma: "Rhodolite's Periodic Report"?

Gilbert: Ah.

Emma: ...This is...

––This week's visitors: 17. Of which, 8 female, 9 male. No suspicious behavior. The subject's health is also good. Matters of concern: Movements are slower compared to normal times. Possibility of injury. Requires follow-up observation. A detailed report will be sent after investigation at a later date.

(This must be something I'm not supposed to see...)

Gilbert: Oh dear, you saw it.

Prince Gilbert gently places his hand on my frozen shoulder.

Gilbert: What should we do?

Emma: ...You said there wasn't any classified information...

Gilbert: Yeah, I forgot about that.

Emma: ......

Gilbert: I have to silence the little rabbit who saw something she shouldn't have.

Prince Gilbert kneels before me, brings his face close with an amused look, and lightly pecks my lips.

Emma: ...So it wasn't anything that bad, huh?

Gilbert: Ahaha, you're starting to understand me better, aren't you?

(If it really was something I shouldn't have seen, Prince Gilbert wouldn't be so forgiving.)

(Besides, he's not the type to carelessly reveal secrets.)

I calm my racing heart and lower my gaze to the documents in my hands.

The more I look at it, the stranger this report seems.

Prince Gilbert, as Obsidian's Field Marshal, is intently eyeing Rhodolite's territory.

But the contents of this report, to an untrained eye, seem to have no value whatsoever.

It's just a record of the actions of a certain bookstore employee. There's a possibility it's some kind of code, but I can't imagine it's worth the attention of a royal from a major power.

(No, wait...)

(A bookstore in Rhodolite's territory?)

(...)

Emma: .............Gil.

(There's only one bookstore Prince Gilbert would have his eye on.)

Emma: Could this report...be about me?

Gilbert: Ahaha, you got me.

(Just how long has this been going on...?)

Judging by the dates on the report, it seems to go back quite a while, even before I was chosen as Belle –– several years, in fact.

(Perhaps since I started managing the store for the owner?)

I knew Prince Gilbert had spies in the city, but I had no idea such detailed reports existed, leaving me speechless.

(This explains why he was so strangely well-informed about my past.)

It seems like he's gotten more information from spies than from the owner.

Emma: I had no idea.

Gilbert: The spy I assigned to you is one of Obsidian's best.

Gilbert: His name is Michael. Does that ring a bell?

Emma: Eh...? No way, Michael was a spy!?

(I know him well. He's a regular customer who started coming in after I began looking after the store alone.)

I've had casual conversations with Michael from time to time, so there's no way I could forget him.

Gilbert: I'm sorry. I didn't intend to have you followed at first.

Gilbert: You were just an ordinary citizen of Rhodolite, not someone a royal from a military power would be concerned with.

Gilbert: But I was forced to assign a spy to you.

*flashback*

Gilbert: --Akatsuki. Are you serious?

.

.

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Part 2

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