#still feeling so incredibly normal about them in case anyone is wondering

[davastationart]

[sunshine-for-serotonin]

I was wondering how Erik would react to his Beloved while ovulating or being clingy ect due to lack of sleep? (You don’t have to that’s totally up to you!!)

Headcannons, let’s go~ TMI, but it’s my ovulation week so that’s what you’re getting :) but don’t worry, you’re both clingy afterwards.

Oh boy, poor, poor Erik-

While Erik is a true polymath and has extensive knowledge on anatomy and science, he’s never actually had a partner to know what ovulation is like first hand.

However, as true as that may be, he’s going to be all over you as soon as you make any implication of having a need, whether that be to make love to him or even for just some chocolates or cuddle time.

You’ll find him nervously hovering over you, his hands flitting about as though scared to touch you until they come to gently hold your hands for about five seconds before he starts fussing again.

He’s so, so, so incredibly sweet, fretting over you, your needs, and your comfort obsessively. Sometimes you have to put on that tone of voice and tell him to sit back and relax for a bit. Maybe you sit by him on his organ bench as he writes music and plays the keys to try and help calm him down.

Erik is incredibly desperate to please, but you may find that he is one of this partners who’s very like “it’s not uteri, it’s uterus”, so expect him to match your horny levels as best he can. (Keep in mind he’s older and doesn’t have nearly as much stamina, you’ll have to kind of pace things throughout the day if you want to pull more than four orgasms from him).

You know that white goopy stuff that gets mixed in with your normal discharge? Don’t expect any fear of it from him. Erik knows it’s natural, and will still gladly go down on you like you’re his favorite meal anytime, any day. (Because, let’s be real now, you very much are).

He actually finds the difference in your taste fascinating, and you’ll find that he eats you out much more voraciously when you’re ovulating.

Expect Erik to extremely in tune with how you’re feeling physically. If your breasts are a bit tender or sore, you can expect that this will be one of the only times you can really keep him from latching. Of course, even if you can’t handle him nursing, he’s more than happy to gently cup your breasts and massage them for you. He’d actually probably explode though if you asked him to use lotion or anything.

As mentioned previously, Erik is overly eager to please and down to tend to your every need. He has absolutely no problem getting on top and doing classic missionary or something similar, rutting into you as the most musical little whines and moans leave his malformed lips.

You do have to remind him he can’t come inside during this week though. He’s normally very good at respecting that rule, but on occasion he finds himself getting so overwhelmed that he cums out of nowhere, thick hot ropes of white spurting inside of you and filling you to the brim as he keens and tears wind down his ruined cheeks.

Of course, you must have pity on him. He won’t be anywhere near able to keep up with you, and you really have to hammer it into his skull that it’s necessary for him to tell you when he needs a break and that you realize you’re borderline insatiable in this state so he needn’t overdo himself.

Of course he’s going to try to anyway though.

Please reassure him that he’s adequate enough and that anyone would be hard pressed to keep up with you in this state, he really does feel horrible for feeling like he can’t make you come or please you enough.

This and when you’re on your monthly are occasions where he simply won’t budge on handling aftercare duties, and he’ll wail if you try to take care of him instead of you letting him take care of you for once.

Erik goes for the full works. Bath, chocolates, he makes you your favorite meals throughout the week and always makes excess in case you find your appetite increased. He even pulls out a stunning nightgown made of the most comfortable material money can buy that he literally made from scratch for when you just want to be comfy or are getting ready for sleep.

And of course once you’re properly taken care of and sated, Erik loves nothing more than to lay down in your arms, curled up against your chest as you both drift off with the dreams of seeing each other tomorrow all over again.

[lulublack90]

Prompt 5 - Bookshop AU

@wolfstarmicrofic April 5, word count 748

Sirius loved working in the bookshop. The Potter’s had asked if he would take over running it when they retired, as James was taking over the rest of the Potter’s substantial enterprise. But the bookshop was special, and they knew how much Sirius loved it. 

It had been the first place he’d ever worked. Effie had given him the Saturday job when he’d first moved in with them. He hadn’t wanted to keep asking them for money for things, so that had been Effie's way of giving him money without making him feel bad. 

He loved the smell of the place. Not only did they sell the new releases, but they also had a rare book section that Sirius sometimes just went to hide in. 

It was on one of these occasions that he came across a tall, lanky man wearing a truly horrendous jumper. It looked like something out of the ’70s, and judging by the threadbare cuffs, it might actually have come from that era. 

He was so engrossed in the book in his hands that he didn’t notice Sirius at first. Sirius tried to carefully back away so his customer could browse without interruption. But his movement must have alerted the man to his presence as he looked up straight into Sirius’s eyes. And Sirius felt his stomach flip. 

“Sorry, didn’t mean to disturb you.” He smiled apologetically at the man before him. “I can do a good deal on that one for you.” He gestured to the book in the man’s hands. “

“Oh, no… I can’t afford any of these books.” He blushed. “I just like looking at them. Choosing which ones I’d buy if I had the money. Plus the smell of them—it probably sounds silly, but I find it soothing.” 

“This is my favourite aisle. Always come down here for at least five minutes before I go home. It’s the, er, smell for me too. I don’t know what it is, but all my troubles just seem to melt away…” Sirius stopped talking before he embarrassed himself further. The man carefully replaced the yellowing book on the shelf and straightened.  

He didn’t know why, but Sirius wasn’t ready to say goodbye to this odd man. “You can come by and read as many of those books as you like. As long as you’re careful with them.” Normally, he would never let anyone actually sit and read, but he couldn’t help himself.

“Oh, are you sure? That’s incredibly kind of you. Er…” 

“Sirius.” Sirius offered. The man smiled at him. 

“Remus.” 

Everyday after that, Remus came in and spent a couple of hours in the rare books section. Thankfully, he treated the books as though they could fall apart at any moment. Sometimes, he’d bring Sirius a coffee. Other times, they’d share a sandwich. Sirius got used to seeing Remus every day and felt the huge amount of disappointment when, after over a month, Remus didn’t come. 

He wondered if he’d done something wrong. Sirius sat in the shop an hour after closing time. Just in case Remus turned up. 

When the clock passed six, he gave up. He gathered his belongings and locked up. He turned to head home when he heard the sound of pounding feet on the pavement. He looked behind him, and a very dishevelled-looking Remus was running towards him. 

“Oh my god! What happened to you?” He asked, worried about the state Remus was in. 

“I’m so sorry I’m late. Some awful person stole my bag on the tube, and it had everything in it. My phone, my wallet, even my keys. I had to walk here because I didn't have any money for the train.” 

“You had all that going on, and you still came to the bookshop? Are you mad?” Sirius asked, baffled by Remus’s choices. 

“ No, I didn’t come all this way with only the clothes on my back to come to the bloody bookshop. I came to see you, you idiot!” Remus blurted out, exasperated. “Sirius, I don’t come into the shop everyday just to look at books.” 

Something clicked in Sirius’s brain. Oh, he thought. He closed the gap between him and Remus and pressed a kiss to his lips. They parted, smiling dopily at each other.

“Come on, sweetheart. Let’s get something warm in you. Takeaway? My treat.” Sirius took his hand and pulled him in the direction of his flat. 

“Yeah, okay then,” Remus replied as he followed Sirius home. 

[demonqueenart]

hi! first of all, i'm so sorry you're feeling the way that you are. you've helped open my eyes to things i admittedly didn't know (dan's comment at wad, for example) or didn't notice. i'm glad you're receiving at least some support from other phans! i don't know if this helps at all (and it's not me trying to excuse dan), but i wanted to add some context to his "third-world country" reference. as an american, i can tell you that we grew up learning "this"third world" as the proper term. most of my colleagues, friends, family members, etc. STILL use it casually to refer to developing nations/the global south - we were literally taught to use it in school. of course it has since become obsolete, as the wording is incredibly offensive. i know about this because of my time in academia, but this awareness hasn't at all spread to the general population (especially in dan's/my generation of millennials and older). as smart as i do think dan is, i wonder if that's also the case in england. he has the responsibility to educate and inform himself and he needs to acknowledge that he's hurt and alienated a large proportion of his fanbase, so i still hope he'll do that soon.

as for the tour, one of my my best friends is mexican (and lives in mexico) and she was really disappointed during ii when they had to cancel the announced mexico dates. they had assumed the dates would work out, but - if i remember correctly - were presented with a lot of visa/permissions issues. they tried to make it work but it didn't, and they waited much too long to tell anyone. my guess is that they wanted to avoid a similar disappointment this time and not give anyone false hope, nor accidentally say anything negative about those countries as they explain their reasoning (which, of course, just comes off worse - ignoring is never the issue).

other artists have had similar issues with asian and middle eastern countries as well, as there is increased censorship and visa requirements. i've spent four years of my life in asian countries (and a few months in south america) and know that there are phans there who'd love to see them, but it might not be feasible.

ultimately, however, dan and phil owe everyone transparency and need to acknowledge if they're having difficulties with bookings in other countries and why. they usually go back and add dates later, so fingers crossed that they're trying to work out some dates in latam and may yet still add them.

It’s the lack of transparency that is the issue here. How am I supposed to trust them when they won’t tell me anything in the first place? And if they expect me to assume for the best, I don’t think I can do that. Not with all the time they tried to bury their mistakes when people have been hurt as if it’s nothing. I’m sorry but if they’re choosing to look good in the public eye before choosing us, then I don’t think I can trust them anymore. And it’s not that they’ll look bad when they’re talking about this stuff, but the fact they have never once talked about it ever really makes it feel like they want to keep this shut. And that hurts a lot.

Thank you for your perspective tho. I think it helps seeing where they can possibly come from.

Auto-message: This ask’s purpose is to acknowledge dnp’s past/present exclusivity, not to cancel them! But to embrace mistakes that they���ve made so that 1. we won’t exclude people in need in this community, and 2. we can normalize bringing up exclusivity so that improvement can happen. Hopefully this will one day help dnp realize that this is a safe space for them to talk about their mistakes, so that this space can become safe for people of all kinds too <3

*If you don’t understand what is happening, scroll through my blog for context. And I’ll be taking time to answer my asks, so don’t think I’m ignoring youuu*

[queercontrarian]

summary: rhysand and tamlin meet in the summer court. obviously they are just friends and neither of them wants anything more. they are totally normal about having feelings.

(that's it that's all you get. i suck at summaries)

cw: none but rhysand isn't very kind to himself

for @sjmromanceweek

It wasn’t hard to find Tamlin. It never was these days and it left Rhys wondering if he’d really become so familiar with him that he was somehow impossible to miss. It was already getting dark when he arrived on the beach and still it took only five minutes to locate the other prince.

To be fair, there weren’t a lot of people on the dunes near the shore of Adriata. They were just outside of city limits so there was no way the guard would know they were there, but Rhys still reached for his wrist and the band of pearls twisted around it. Just in case. He didn’t know how Tamlin had gotten them - a favor, maybe, from the princess - but they would get him out of all the trouble he could potentially get into tonight. A carte blanche.

He didn't get a greeting as he walked up to Tamlin, his friend only moved to the side to make space for him on the blanket, throwing his own jacket and bag into the sand next to him. There were some couples around, some families in small groups along the beach. It seemed like no one was paying attention to them but that didn't mean much. Rhys sighed and turned around to face the sea while his friend brushed the dust and dirt off of the blanket.

“Is anyone we know out here?” he asked, a bit louder than necessary to clear his throat.

“Haven't been recognized yet,” Tamlin replied, kicking his legs out again and leaning back. “Sit.”

Rhys cracked his knuckles, trying to distract himself from the way his heart skipped a beat or two. It was ridiculous to get this worked up over spending time with a friend, over hearing his voice, over a thing so small as a night out on the beach or a stupid charming accent. It wasn't normal - Rhysand would know; he had spent his entire life chasing “normal”. Tamlin was ruining years of hard work with a smile and Rhysand couldn't even hate him for it.

“I'll put a glamour up anyway,” he said, his voice steady as always as he got to work.

“I already did.”

“I know, and it's not good.” He could practically feel Tamlin rolling his eyes through the silence. It was true though. Tamlin had never been good with glamours, or any kind of learned magic in general. He could do the basics, and he was incredible with the magic he pulled from within but his hands were not made for the intricate work of spellweaving or any of the tricks Rhys had spent years of his life studying.

“You could always teach me how to do it better.” His heart stuttered again.

“Sure. I will, eventually,” he replied, the last threads of magic melting into the glamour. He threw it out around them like a net in the air and it shimmered against the night sky for a moment before becoming invisible to their eyes.

When Rhys finally turned around, Tamlin smiled. “Beautiful,” he said.

“Someone warn the ladies, the poet is out tonight,” Rhysand answered mockingly, glad that the sun was long gone so the blush creeping up his neck was hidden in the shadows. Tamlin ignored his comment.

“Maybe after the meetings end you can teach me, yes?”

Rhys sighed, unbuttoning his coat so he could sit. “If the meetings ever end. We've been at it for days; Dawn keeps blocking the vote.” He could feel how warm the sand still was under the blanket and for a moment he felt the urge to lay down, to take off his shoes and bury his feet in the sand. It wouldn’t be proper. It wasn't a normal thing to do for a prince.

“Well, Thesan isn't stupid,” Tamlin said easily.

“How would you know? You don't even show up to the meetings,” Rhys snapped, the frustration of the day bubbling out of him so suddenly it surprised both of them. He tried to soften his tone when he added, “I haven't seen you in a month. I’ve been here all week, you didn’t feel like coming over?” It was meant to sound playful but the hurt behind the joke stuck. Tamlin had been in Adriata for months, just a few miles across the delta from its sister city Apri. It would have been easy for Tamlin to winnow or to cross over by boat, hell, he could have shifted into a whale to swim the distance. But Tamlin only shook his head.

“With both Meilyr and Father in town? Not a chance.”

“So what, you just keep making me come to see you? That’s how it works?” Tamlin shrugged.

“You’re here, aren’t you?” he said, his sharp teeth gleaming for just a second under the moonlight as his lips twisted into a crooked grin.

“Oh fuck off,” Rhys groaned, leaning back on his hands just as Tamlin bumped his shoulder against his. The truth was that he didn't want Tamlin anywhere near his family. Here, he was warm and alive and happy, and Rhysand had missed him more than he cared to admit. He balled his hands into fists to stop himself from reaching out. Be normal.

“Don't take it so hard. Besides, it's easier to hide here where there are less people than in Apri. After all, we've already established that I suck at glamours,” Tamlin teased, brushing his long hair out of his face.

“I didn't mean it like that,” Rhys said, struggling to find a middle ground between apologetic and defensive.

“I know what you meant.”

They sat in companionable silence for a while. Tamlin seemed to be deep in thought and Rhys didn't quite know what to say without interrupting him or letting his heart jump off his tongue, so he just watched the crowd forming on the beach from their place high up on the dune. If this was fewer people than in Apri he didn't want to know what the streets there looked like. It was getting very dark now but he could still make out the colorful costumes the faeries were wearing, each one a hand-crafted, endlessly detailed masterpiece. Carnaval started tonight and he'd fully forgotten about it over setting up this meeting with Tamlin. He wondered if Tamlin had any plans to go into the city later to celebrate with his hosts. If he did he hadn't dressed for it, which Rhys hoped meant that he could keep him all night.

"Have you seen fireworks before?" Tamlin asked finally. Rhys cleared his throat, then nodded.

"Yes," he said quietly, "In Dawn. But it was only a small demonstration. As I understand, the spectacle tonight will be far more grand." Tamlin had never seen fireworks. His father did not care for them, and that was enough explanation. There were so many things the Spring Court missed out on because of the High Lord, and Rhys was set on introducing Tamlin to all of them.

Before he could dump everything he knew about the fireworks on Tamlin though his stomach rumbled. He'd skipped dinner to make it to Adriata in time and he was starting to feel it, even though he would never say. He didn't need to.

Tamlin wordlessly grabbed the bag he'd brought and carelessly tossed aside earlier. He opened it up with one hand and offered Rhys half a dozen small pastries wrapped in paper. His mind and his heart were racing as he accepted the food. Accepting food from a loved one - Rhys shook himself out of his stupor. Normal, he reminded himself. Just be normal.

"The one with spinach is mine, but you can have the rest."

"Are you serious?" Rhys asked, his voice measured as he carefully unfolded the paper. The smell alone made his mouth water: sweet and sugary and so, so delicious. Tamlin nodded.

“I know you like these and you never get to have them because your father doesn't eat them. So I thought I'd bring some,” he explained, finding the spinach pastry easily amongst the others and eating it all in one bite. Fighting down the fluttering in his chest, the feeling of all kinds of abnormal hunger, Rhys reached into his own pocket and dropped a small bag of dried fruit into the other male's lap.

"I brought these for you from Day." Tamlin swallowed so quickly Rhys feared for a second he'd choke.

"Candied lemon peel?" His friend ripped into the bag faster than Rhys could answer.

"Yes, and some other stuff. Figured you were running out again." He couldn't suppress his smile as he watched Tamlin pick through the sweets. He grabbed one of the pastries at random - blackberry, his favorite.

“I love you,” Tamlin said seriously, holding up a piece of candied fruit to the moon. “You're the best person that has ever happened to me.”

His heart stuttered again and Rhys tried not to choke on his pastry. It didn't mean anything. It never meant anything. The Spring Court was just like that. Tamlin used words like these all the time and it wasn't his fault that it meant more to Rhys than to him. He couldn't know the degree to which praise was earned in his family, how much love was based on conditions - presenting him with his preferred sweets was the very least Rhys was willing to do to hear those words from Tamlin's lips.

They both flinched when the first fireworks exploded over Apri, light and color bursting across the sky. Down by the water people were clapping and screaming, pointing at the display, the art unfolding high up in the air.

Rhysand blinked away the bright explosions, gaze slipping away to land on Tamlin instead. His friend was still staring at the sky, head tilted to the side.

"Do you like them?" he asked. Tamlin tilted his head to the side. Rhysand liked that Tamlin took the time to think things like these through. He liked a lot of things about Tamlin - too many things.

"I do," he said finally, "I just don't like how loud they are"

“Our stars are quiet,” Rhys said, “And twice as beautiful too.” Tamlin only looked up at him and smiled.

“Is that so?”

“Yes,” Rhys replied emphatically before lowering his voice into a forced casual drawl again. “You should come see them and convince yourself of it. It's nothing like this muted, tired sky.”

If he were honest he'd admit that he was dying to see Tamlin in his Court, under his sky. He wanted to show him the mountains, the Illyrian Steppes and the Rainbow in Velaris. Maybe Tamlin could write a poem about the beauty of the Night Court too. Maybe he'd learn to love it just as much. Maybe he could keep him there, make him a star next to his own on the firmament.

They were silent again, listening to the crowd shrieking with joy as the fireworks kept coming, the wind picking up the music played in Adriata and carrying it to the shore.

"I think there's a special kind of beauty in things that aren't made to be beautiful," Tamlin said finally. Rhys groaned.

"Oh, leave the poet at home for just one night will you,” he muttered, nudging his friend until he slipped off the blanket under them.

Tamlin chuckled but his expression turned earnest again when he said, "I would like to see them one day though, the stars you describe. They sound beautiful."

“I'll take you,” Rhys promised. He'd take him anywhere as long as he could be with him.

[apexious]

so, my 19th birthday is slowly creeping in and, because of that, I want to write a sappy post appreciating not only my friends in the fandom, but the fandom itself.

it was february 2023 when I posted my first just dance fic. it feels like yesterday when, in reality, it's over a year ago now! inspired by many writers already present in the fandom but especially my now good friend @anja-the-sane-panda (who ill never get over the fact we became friends), I finally found a fandom I could truly shine in. most fandoms I joined were either too dead once I got into it, or far too big to really know anybody. I'm so glad that anyone even took the time to read my fics, let alone hear from people about how my fics inspired them to write.

university is hard, and it has been taking a lot of my time, which means I haven't read or wrote many fics recently. it makes me sad, and yet, seeing the number of just dance fics rise every single day makes me so proud. if anything I've written has influenced you in the slightest, it's more than I could've ever dreamed of.

luckily, my first year of university is nearly over. I should have a lot more time to read and write, and I'm very excited to do it all again. I've still got so many fics planned for my fantasy au, I've gotten very interested in ace attorney and would love to write some cases for my ace attorney au, and I also just have some fic ideas for normal just dance fics. thanks to so many headcanons in this fandom, it's become a lot easier to write some characters who have very little canon lore to write off of (there's so many I could list but the first that comes to mind is @caitlynnrosespn's brezziana lore. I'm not joking when I say brezziana was so hard for me to write. I took a whole month off once I got to her chapter in FAIMT because I couldn't think of how to characterize her. because of you, it's so much easier to write her. thank you)

this year has frankly been incredible. not only has just dance given us some of my favourite maps ever, I've taken an interest in cosplaying and plan to sew my first ever cosplay thanks to Emzy's guide (check it out if you haven't btw, it's so helpful!). I managed to become friends with so many people I admired, such as @ceciliacloudss and @the-triggered-lizard, and also even roleplay just dance characters, which has inspired me for many fics (thank you to the people in the roleplay server. there's so many I could list in there but you know who you are)

seeing such amazing art, cosplays, fics, headcanons etc come out of this fandom, whether they're a mutual or just someone I absolutely adore, is always such a highlight. I'm so happy that this community has grown with me and I'm so grateful to have been accepted within it.

to that, I say thank you. thank you to this wonderful community. and happy early 19th to me c':

[the-al-chemist]

Shoreside Conversations

A/N: @drinkyoursoupbitch’s idea to restart Worldbuiding Wednesday was one of her best yet (and she has many great ideas). It’s brought a little fun back into writing, and this little short story has been incredibly fun to work on. Based on this prompt from the First Lady of Soup herself:

Warnings: mild innuendo, severely bad lying.

The spring evening was light but cool, with the sky turning a rosy shade of pink and the crescent moon starting to rise before the sun had finished setting. Outside, a gentle breeze was blowing, but it couldn’t reach the interior of the seaside restaurant where, at a table by the window, three witches were chatting over a bottle of fizzy wine.

The wizarding community of Great Britain had been at peace for almost a year, but Artemis’ friend Penny had only recently returned to England, having escaped to France with her young family when the war first broke out. Penny had always been a social butterfly, and so neither Artemis nor Chiara had been surprised when she had invited them both for dinner at the Italian restaurant that had opened near her family’s beach house in Cornwall less than a week after she had come home.

”It’s just wonderful to see you two again,” Penny told the pair of them, almost breathless over the top of her wine glass. “I’ve really missed you both.”

“We’ve missed you, too.”

“So,” continued Penny. She had that all-too-familiar expression on her face, the one she always had whenever she was hunting for gossip. “What’s new with you?”

Artemis had never known Chiara to be the first in a group to speak up, so she volunteered up a piece of information about her life. “I’ve started a new job.”

“Another one?” Penny’s eyebrows shot up, but she quickly regained her composure. “I mean, that’s good. What are you doing now?”

“I’m a case investigator for the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures.”

“And? Are you enjoying it?”

“Yeah.” Artemis nodded. “I am, actually.”

She was half-expecting Penny to ask her more questions — more personal questions, at that — but Penny had decided it was Chiara’s turn.

“What about you, Chiara? How is work? How are things with Jae?”

“Work is… busy,” said Chiara, her voice as soft and lilting as Artemis had always known it to be. “But, St Mungo’s have welcomed me back without kicking up a fuss about the whole” — she lowered her voice to the point that she almost mouthed the words — “werewolf issue.” Her lips pursed slightly before she spoke normally again. “And things with Jae are good. Never better, really. Actually, he asked me to marry him last weekend.”

Across the table, Artemis could see that Penny was almost vibrating with excitement.

“Oh, my goodness,” she said. “Did you say yes?”

Chiara’s mouth curved into a shy smile. “I did.”

Artemis braced herself for Penny’s squeal just in time. A couple at the neighbouring table looked over, clearly concerned, and Artemis shrugged apologetically at them before congratulating Chiara. Penny, apparently too excited to sit still, rose from her chair and half-leapt around the perimeter of their own table to hug their friend. In her excitement, she knocked the handbag she had hung on the back of her chair, causing a tiny glass bottle to fall out of it.

Before anyone had a chance to catch the bottle, it plummeted to the ground and broke with a tiny, high-pitched smash. Immediately, the air was filled with a smell that was overpowering, intoxicating, and overwhelmingly pleasant. Artemis breathed in the scent, feeling both more relaxed and invigorated as she did so. Across the table, Penny’s blue eyes widened into circles and the colour rose in her cheeks.

“Oh, no. Oh, dear.”

“Don’t worry, Pen,” Artemis said. “If anything, the place smells much better now.”

It really did. Whatever had spilled out onto the floor smelt good, at once sweet and salty, smokey and earthy, and…

“Penny.” Chiara’s voice cut into Artemis’ thoughts. She had one palm placed to her nose, and above her hand her usually pale cheeks were flushed and her pupils fractionally dilated. “Is that what I think it is?”

Artemis had no clue what Chiara thought the little bottle had contained, but her suspicions were clearly correct, because Penny nodded her head sheepishly. Chiara sighed, though whether it was out of satisfaction or exasperation, Artemis couldn’t tell.

“Merlin, I haven’t smelt that since sixth year Potions class,” muttered Chiara.

Not having taken Potions classes past her fifth year, Artemis was still none the wiser. “What? What is it?”

“It’s Amortentia.”

“Amortentia?”

Penny shushed Artemis whilst looking over both shoulders.

“It really isn’t what it looks like,” she whispered. Artemis and Chiara exchanged glances.

“I think it matters more what it smells like, to be honest,” said Artemis. “What are you doing carrying a vial of Amortentia around in your handbag?”

“Well, technically it isn’t actually Amortentia. It’s a perfume made with Amortentia. They’re very popular in Paris, you know. I’m actually writing an article about it for the next edition of the S.O.U.P. Quarterly.”

“For the what quarterly?”

“The Society of Occupational Unctioneers and Potioneers. It’s for anyone who works in the potions industry, or in a line of work where potions are needed for use. Actually, Chiara, you may be interested in joining. We are always looking for new members, and…”

“And what about the Amortentia?”

“Oh, I’ve been asked to write a guest piece for the Society journal. It’s the first time, and I’m rather excited about it, actually,” Penny explained. “I thought the perfume would be really interesting to write about, seeing as it’s not such a common thing to see over here yet, but now that the war is over, I’m certain that it will become rather fashionable.” Her eyes had lit up. Perhaps it was because she was talking about her favourite subject, or it might have been the effect of the Amortentia on the floor. “How it works is, they put the Amortentia into the perfume, and when it’s worn it makes the wearer more… Well, you know, appealing.”

By the time Penny had finished talking, her cheeks were pinker than Artemis had ever seen them, and the couple at the next table were paying so much attention to one another that they hadn’t noticed the waiter who was trying to take their orders.

“I think it works, you know.”

The three witches looked across at the couple before silently giggling into their wine glasses.

“Maybe we should all start wearing it,” suggested Chiara. She was clearly joking, but Penny nodded in earnest.

“I have some samples I’m using for the article, you can have them when I’m finished.”

“Oh, you really don’t have to—”

“Don’t be silly, it’s no problem at all. I’ll just owl them to you. You too, Artemis.” Before Artemis could protest, Penny continued, “You’ll be glad of them once you meet someone.��

Artemis almost choked on her wine. She composed herself as best as she could before responding, “Yeah. Maybe. Thanks.”

She had assumed that her answer would be vague enough to not arouse attention, but it appeared that she had underestimated Penny Haywood.

“You’ve already met someone?”

“No,” Artemis said quickly. Too quickly.

“Oh, my goodness. Who?”

”No one.” When Penny pursed her lips in blatant disbelief, Artemis sighed. “No one that you’d know.”

“You never know, I might know them,” said Penny. She had a point, Artemis realised. Penny’s list of acquaintances was never-ending. “So, what’s his name?”

There was no way out of this, Artemis could tell. Still, she couldn’t help but scan the room looking for an exit. As her eyes wandered, they happened to land on the name badge of the waiter serving the neighbouring table.

“Mario.”

“Mario?”

”Yeah, Mario.” Artemis nodded definitely. “His name is Mario.”

Penny frowned. “I don’t think I know anyone called Mario. Is he someone you work with?”

“Yeah. Well, sort of,” Artemis corrected herself. Penny was bound to know one of her colleagues — or, if not, she would at least know someone else who did — and she wouldn’t have put it past her friend to ask others about Mario. “He’s a Magizoologist, but he doesn’t work for the Ministry. He lives abroad usually.”

That wasn’t entirely untruthful, and even Chiara seemed half-convinced. Artemis took a sip of wine in order to hide her face behind the glass.

“So, what does he look like?” asked Penny. “Tall, dark, and handsome?”

“Yeah, sure.”

“Just your type, then.”

Artemis wrinkled her nose. “Is it?”

“Well, yes.” Penny laughed, but she still wasn’t finished with her interrogation. “So, how long have you been seeing him? Have you talked about the future yet? Are you worried about how it’s going to work out, what with him living abroad and you living here?”

The room suddenly felt very hot. Artemis shuffled in her seat, trying to quench her sudden need for movement. Her chest had tightened uncomfortably, but she hid the sensation by shaking her head and laughing.

“Calm down, Pen,” she said, as breezily as she could muster. “It’s not like that.”

“Not like what?”

“I dunno. I guess I just don’t think the Mario thing is… It’s not very serious. At all. You don’t need to think too much about Mario. Forget I ever said anything about Mario.”

The look on Penny’s face made it clear that she was disappointed, but Chiara smiled gently.

“As long as you’re happy, Artemis,” she said. “That’s the main thing, isn’t it, Penny?”

”Oh, yes. Yes, as long as you’re happy.”

“Thanks.” Artemis put her glass down. “Anyway, Chiara, you’re going to have a wedding…”

It was the perfect distraction. Penny sat up so straight in her seat that her buttocks almost seemed to hover above it, and turned her attention wholly to Chiara. Artemis sat back in her own chair and let the other two women talk, letting the pitter-patter of conversation wash over her. It was familiar and warming to sit and chat with her friends, as long as she didn’t allow herself to think too much about the moments when Rowan would have said something wry and clever, or Tonks something witty and outrageous, if either of them had been there to say anything at all.

By the time she and her friends left the little seaside restaurant, Artemis’ head was fuzzy with the mixture of wine, Amortentia perfume, and thoughts of those who were and always would be missing. She Apparated back to Bill’s house, nestled in the dunes of another Cornish beach, and found Charlie sitting on the sand, setting fire to a small pile of driftwood without even using his wand.

“What are you doing?”

Charlie did not even look up from the driftwood. “I’m making a fire.”

“Without me?”

“I’ve been waiting for you to get back.” Charlie shrugged. “Do you want to grab some drinks and snacks, or have you had enough at dinner?”

Artemis probably had had enough, but she couldn’t see any harm in a little more. She snuck into the house and took a half-full bottle of Firewhiskey, two mugs, and a packet of marshmallows from the kitchen before returning to the beach. Charlie had succeeded in lighting his Muggle fire, and she sat beside him, watching the flames flicker against the indigo backdrop of the sky and sea.

“How were Penny and Chiara?” asked Charlie, as Artemis poured him a glass of Firewhiskey.

“Good.”

“And the dinner?”

“Tasty.” Artemis held out the marshmallows to Charlie in way of an offering, but he declined them with a wave of his hand. She pierced a marshmallow with her wand and held it over the fire, where the flames licked at the sides of it. “It felt strange, it just being the three of us.”

“I’ll bet.” Charlie glanced at her. “You want to talk about it?”

There wasn’t much more to say about it than that, so Artemis shook her head. Charlie nodded his own, and in silence, lay down on his back. Artemis kicked off her boots and let her bare toes dig into the sand.

“Oh, guess what? Jae and Chiara are getting married.”

Artemis had expected some sort of surprise or excitement from Charlie, but he gave her neither. Instead, he only said:

“So, he finally got around to asking her then?”

“Wait, you knew he was going to ask her?”

“Yeah, he’s been planning on it for months. He’s told me about it every time I’ve seen him.”

“Why didn’t you tell me about it?”

Charlie shrugged. “It wasn’t my news to tell.”

“I guess that’s fair enough,” said Artemis. “Just so you know, if Jae mentions anything next time you see him, I have a new boyfriend called Mario.”

Slowly, Charlie lifted his head from the sand. He turned his face towards Artemis, his eyebrows knitted in confusion. “I’m sorry?”

“Penny asked me if I was seeing anyone,” Artemis explained. “And I told her I wasn’t, but she could tell I was lying—”

“Shocking.”

“— so I just told her I was going out with a guy called Mario.”

“Of course, that’s what anyone would do in that situation,” said Charlie, completely straight-faced. He propped himself up onto his elbows. “And what did you tell them about this Mario?”

“Not much, just that he is a Magizoologist and that he’s tall and good-looking.” Artemis glanced across at Charlie, who was looking at her with his eyebrows furrowed. “But it’s not anything serious.”

“Well, that’s a relief.” Charlie blinked and shook his head. “And, they believed all of this…”

“I think so? I mean, I changed the subject pretty quickly. Penny was happy to talk about Chiara’s wedding and this soup club she’s joined.”

“A soup club? As in the food?”

“No, it’s for potion people. She’s writing an article about Amortentia for their journal and spilled some on the floor of the restaurant. You wouldn’t believe how much it smelt.”

“I would,” said Charlie. “I still remember when Jae made a cauldron full of the stuff in our dormitory in fifth year.”

“He made that in your dormitory?”

Charlie nodded. “Oh, yeah. Stunk the place out for weeks.”

“I mean, at least Amortentia smells good,” Artemis reasoned.

“True, but it did make for quite a few awkward mornings, if you know what I mean…”

In a way, Artemis wished she didn’t know what Charlie meant, but she couldn’t help but laugh at the look on his face.

“What did you think it smelt like?” she asked him. “The Amortentia?”

Charlie’s eyes narrowed. “That’s a very personal question.”

“Good job that we are very personal friends.”

Artemis raised her eyebrows at Charlie, whose lips twitched and eyes looked out over the sea in the distance.

“A few different things, really,” he said. “Sort of like the garden back at home, and a bit like the air after bonfire night, though that might have been because of him setting the bottom of the cauldron on fire. And it smelt like Christmas.”

“Christmas?”

“Hmm. Like pine trees and… marzipan? It was very sweet and a bit nutty.” Charlie glanced at Artemis. “Yeah, it was nuts, alright.”

There was a look of mischief in his eyes that made Artemis roll her own. Charlie laughed softly to himself.

“And you?” he asked. “What did it smell like to you?”

Artemis frowned as she tried to remember the smell of the Amortentia, and found the scent easier to recall than she had thought it would be. It was as if the smell of the perfume had lingered in the air around her all the way back to Shell Cottage, but then, that might have been because of the salty breeze rolling in from the sea, the Firewhiskey in her glass, the leather of her boots discarded on the sand beside her, the marshmallow toasting on the end of her wand.

“I guess it sort of smelt like this.”

Charlie smiled, and Artemis popped her toasted marshmallow into her mouth before lying down on the sand beside him, face up towards the stars.

[masterwords]

something worth fighting for

Summary: Emily's ready to call it quits, Hotch and Morgan already have, and then a party at Rossi's changes everything.

Pairing: Hotch/Morgan

Words: ~7k

Warnings: hotch's ear injury (canon - 7x24 explosion), gunshot, vomiting, pain medication

Read on AO3: something worth fighting for

Notes: I humbly submit my work to the CM Holiday Gift Exchange (@cmgiftexchange), a gift for @hosseinis. I wrote almost 30k words for this exchange scattered between 4 different stories before this one became the keeper. I was incredibly fortunate to be matched to you, to be able to create a gift for you, but as happy as I was...it became almost impossible to decide among all the things I wanted to make for you! The other 3 stories were a lot darker, didn't feel much like holiday gifts, but they'll still be posted at some point probably soon because they were all solid stories. You inspired me to write a LOT of words this month my friend. Thank you for loving hotchgan and for being fun to talk to! Merry Crimbus! (Read under the cut or on AO3)

~~***~~~***~~***~~~***~~***~~~***~~***~~~***~~***~~~***~~

“Do you ever think about what might have happened if we had done for you what you and JJ did for me?”

Hotch frowned and laced his fingers together in his lap. His hands were cold in spite of them currently being in Georgia. The heat outside was well matched by the air conditioning blowing into the cabin of the jet. He would have preferred not to have it on but the team liked it chilly. They still had an hour before anyone would begin trickling onto the jet, but he’d been surprised to find Emily boarding early. Only about fifteen minutes behind him. She was normally one of the last, stretching the time to the very last moment. He’d been anticipating a nice long period of quiet, a head start on the pile of paperwork he had to complete to shut the door on this case. Not today.

It was his own fault. He’d invited her to come to him when she had a bad day, and those seemed to be coming harder and faster lately. He found her in his office, texting, even once at his door with an apologetic bottle of wine. That night ended up with her drinking the whole thing and him calling her a cab because she refused to sleep on his couch. She wouldn’t look him in the eye for two full days after that because she was worried they’d done something they shouldn’t have while he repeatedly assured her that he hadn’t had a drop of the wine and they’d remained respectable distances from one another the whole night.

“How so?” he asked, his voice a little breathless. She didn’t often bring his situation into the mix. No one ever really dared to talk about Haley, about Foyet, it was like a field full of buried unmarked landmines. They’d all more or less decided to pretend it never happened, everyone but Dave and Derek anyway. JJ had offered support once or twice but she didn’t ask questions, didn’t pry. It was easier for all of them to ignore it.

“If we had decided to fake your death, put you into WITSEC with Haley and Jack. Send you off to some boring old place where you could be a teacher or something. Do you ever wonder how that would have played out?”

“Why would I be a teacher?” he asked, a little offended by the implication that he was dull. She smiled warily.

“Fine, you could be something more exciting. A lion tamer in the circus. Anything you want. Do you ever wonder?”

“No,” he replied truthfully. Painfully. He couldn’t allow himself to wander down the path of what if, it hurt too much. Knowing that there were paths he could have taken that would have kept Haley alive was enough to bring him to his knees, the weight of it too much to bear. It wasn’t that he didn’t know it anyway, there were plenty of choices he had at one time that would have led to Jack not losing his mother. There were better outcomes, maybe, but there were also worse.

Emily hummed, a noise he was sure she had picked up right from him, spending too much time together. Especially lately, because she couldn’t talk to the team about any of this. Sure, she had JJ, but when she looked at JJ she only saw the pain she’d gone through and how hard it has been for her to mend what was broken...the rest of them were still grappling with it. How could she tell them she wasn’t happy? That she might want out? Hotch was the only one she thought could take it, or even worse, understand.

“Why?” He knew why, he’d known it for a while now, but it was still his job to ask. To get her to do the talking. She needed to open up and get something off of her chest. He hated to do this, to slip into his negotiator role, but it worked. It was for her benefit.

“Oh, I don’t know,” she started quietly. “I guess I’m having a hard time being myself again. I spent enough time being someone else so completely, coming to terms with Emily Prentiss dying...this is harder than I thought it would be. Living this life again. And I guess I wondered if you thought you would too. If we’d gotten Foyet and Haley lived, if you got your family back. Could you go from being Joe Schmo in the middle of nowhere...Utah or Wyoming or something...could you be Aaron Hotchner again? Could you just forget dying and pretend it never happened?”

“I would have to try,” he said rather matter-of-factly, but he knew it wasn’t so simple. “It would have been a very different circumstance, though. My situation and yours were not the same.”

“No, yeah, I know...I know…good people, innocent people still died because of me though. I can’t help thinking that I should have stayed dead to honor their sacrifices.”

“Emily.”

“No, don’t Emily me. Look, I tried to buy a house and put down roots. I called my mom and had dinner with her...but I can’t...I can’t fix this. Look at the trouble I’ve caused. I see Spencer still not sure he can trust you guys. I see what happened to you and Derek. I did that, Hotch. I did that.”

“No,” he replied sadly. His voice cracked before he finished his thought and he shook his head, waiting for it to come back. “I did that.”

“Not without my help,” she added timidly. “You two would probably have gotten married, adopted some babies, maybe. White picket fence, two car garage...you guys had it all and what you did for me…I guess I’m not sure it was worth it, in the end. Because look at me now. Look at me thriving.” That last part, as emotionally wrecked as she was, dripped in sarcasm. His chest ached.

“How can I help?”

She scoffed at him and rolled her eyes dramatically. She hadn’t let go of the sarcasm, it was her last line of defense, but her voice was shockingly vulnerable and sincere. It broke his heart. “Tell me it was worth it?”

“It was worth it.”

“You’re going to have to do better...come on. Don’t insult me. You were a Federal Prosecutor, you can lie better than that if you’re not going to tell me the truth.”

“You want the truth?” He glanced down at his watch to make sure they still had time. That he wouldn’t be in the middle of a vulnerable monologue when the team started boarding the jet. That was the last thing he needed. He had a few minutes to safely get it off of his chest. “There are aspects of what happened that I would go back and change if I could. Hindsight is a gift and a curse. But I wouldn’t take it all back. I would do it for you again in a heartbeat, even if it went exactly the same again. No matter the blow-back on me, protecting you was worth it.”

She blinked rapidly, tears clinging to the mascara she’d just put on. That wasn’t what she’d expected and she hated him a little for it. For the cruelty in his honesty. She couldn’t reciprocate that kind of shredded, gaping wound of vulnerability for him no matter how she wanted to. “You jerk.”

“I’m sorry,” he spoke quietly, reaching into his pocket and procuring a small square of silk with his initials stitched in delicate thread along the hem. He offered her the handkerchief without hesitation, waiting for her to make fun of him for it. For being so old fashioned that he carried an old hanky around with him. She didn’t, though, she just looked at him, blinked the tears from her lashes and dabbed at her under eyes with his pale silk gift. He was such a relic, she’d always thought, but a beautiful one. He wasn’t meant for this time. He wasn’t meant for many of the things he did. Everyone thought he was so tough, unbreakable, harsh and ruthless but she knew the truth: he was none of those things. He was certainly good at putting up his shields and playing the game, but he was one of the gentlest, softest most broken men she’d ever met in her life. She wanted to protect him with every last breath in her body, he was such a fool sometimes. But she couldn’t protect him, not from himself or anyone else.

“No,” she whispered finally, sniffling. “I’m sorry. I don’t...I need to suck it up, huh? Get on with it. Shit or get off the pot.”

“You don’t need to do anything you’re not ready for.”

“Says the guy that came back to work a month after getting stabbed nine times.”

He frowned and shrugged helplessly. “I didn’t know what else to do with myself. In retrospect, coming back so soon did more harm than good. I can’t go back, and I can’t wonder what might have been different had I...waited.” The way he said that last word made her squirm. Years later and he was still living with the crushing guilt, the lasting pain both physical and emotional. It struck her that this thing that had been burying her alive for a couple of months had been doing the same to him for years and it made her feel sick. He hadn’t healed he’d just hidden it beneath layers of life. It was mean of her, she knew it, but as she looked at him she knew...she didn’t want to become him, and that was exactly where she was headed if she didn’t get out now.

He’d given her all the answer she needed just by allowing her to see the truth of his existence. It was a cautionary tale.

“Thanks Hotch,” she said finally, knowing they had to wrap it up. He’d checked his watch twice since he opened up. The team were going to board soon and the last thing she wanted to do was be crying when they walked on. She wasn’t ready to tell them yet that she was thinking about leaving. She could see it in Hotch’s eyes, he knew. She didn’t have to say those words. The fact that she was thinking so hard about this was enough for both of them. “This is gross, by the way. There’s a reason Kleenex exists.”

“My grandmother made them for me.”

“That doesn’t make it better.”

“It’s clean,” he added a little defensively. “I do wash them.”

“Yeah. Sure. It’s all fine then.” She handed him back the wet silk and watched as he stuffed it into the pocket of his pants without thinking twice. “God. Do you have more of those on hand?”

“The clean ones are in my breast pocket, the soiled ones are in the pants pocket. I told you, I do wash them Emily.”

She scrunched up her nose in disgust. “You look good for ninety, you know that?”

He considered a reply, but decided it wasn’t worth it and settled for a long suffering sigh instead before turning back to his paperwork. His mind wasn’t in it anymore, now he could think only of one thing – Emily was going to leave. And probably soon. How would they survive that a second time?

(x)

The explosion that blew out the bank, crumbling concrete and shattering glass was unexpected. It rocked the ground beneath his feet as he dove behind the police car door, heart hammering in his chest so hard and so loud he thought it might actually break his ribs. Derek was in there. JJ was in there. Emily was in there. Dammit. He felt his ear pop, the sudden high-pitched screaming sound piercing his skull even after he covered his ears with shaking hands and squeezed his eyes shut. The pain was instant, the pressure behind his eyes building to a crescendo and for a whole ten seconds that felt like eternity he thought for sure his head was going to explode. There were tears in his eyes when he opened them again and he swiped at them with ash caked fingers, failing to notice for a moment the blood on his palm. His ear was bleeding.

Again.

He’d been on top of the PTSD, for the most part. Once the Bureau appointed therapist pointed it out to him and gave him some exercises to maintain his composure in situations he knew were going to be troubling to him, he’d been on top of it. “Mild,” she called it. When his palms got sweaty and his heart dropped into his stomach, when he felt sick and angry and vulnerable...it didn’t feel mild, but who was he to argue with her? She saw this kind of thing all the time. And he’d been close enough to explosions since that night in New York, had managed to work his way through them without incident, but now seeing the blood...being in the middle of the street...hearing sirens wailing and watching flames flicker...he wasn’t exactly right there again, it wasn’t a flashback, it was just that same sick feeling. Different but the same.

Except this time he had his whole team, and half a city’s worth of cops to look out for. He had civilians and hostages to worry about. The safety of hundreds of people rested on his shoulders and his fucking ear was bleeding down the side of his jaw. Will had been inside that building with the unsubs. He didn’t have time to walk himself through all of the steps as his stomach twisted in painful knots, as the bile rose in his throat. Not now, so he just stood up and shouldered his way through the reeling cops with one hand over his bleeding ear to keep the offending noise out of his head, at least a little. God it hurt.

“Dave!” He called, rushing toward his colleague. He was breathing through his nose, deep harsh breaths to stave off the nausea that was increasing in intensity. “Have you seen any of them?” He didn’t need to use names, Dave knew exactly who he meant.

“There,” Dave pointed at Derek and JJ on the ground with various members of the SWAT team they’d been charging in with. Emily had been ahead of them, she wasn’t in the group but she couldn’t have gotten far. He watched as Derek began to sit up, followed by JJ and then some of SWAT. They were all confused, coming to, but seemed okay. He turned to Dave, refusing to allow personal feelings to get their claws in. Not only did they have no place here right now, but he wasn’t welcome to them any longer. Derek was not his to care for in any way more significant than as colleagues, and as colleagues, what Derek really needed was for Hotch to take complete control of the chaos. Get them all out of this mess.

“Dave,” he began, setting his jaw and trying to regain his composure. His head was a grenade and the pin was barely holding on. Dave raised his hand and shook his head before Hotch had a chance to continue.

“You go get that ear looked at,” he said adamantly. “I’ll go find Erin and we’ll be waiting for you.”

Hotch wanted to argue that he was fine, but his the pressure in his head must have been visible to Dave because he wasn’t having any of it. “Okay,” he agreed. “I’m not sitting this one out, but I’ll go get cleaned up.”

“I’ll take it.”

(x)

Finding Derek in the alley, pinned against a dumpster with a man’s hands around his throat, Hotch didn’t even think. He wasn’t going to bother announcing himself, he wasn’t going to bother negotiating. This was one of those times where he simply couldn’t abide the protocols and procedures – this man allowed Will to be hurt, used him, put Henry in danger and was now trying to kill Derek. He had no trouble at all justifying the shot he was about to take.

And when Matthew Downs dropped at Derek’s feet, when the blood sprayed against Derek’s cheek and the dumpster and pooled on the ground, he felt no remorse. He simply stood with his gun still aimed, breathing heavily, his ear screaming louder than ever. He was going to be sick. That knowledge rumbled through him with the force of a freight train as his stomach twisted with the pain of the gun shot, but the look on Derek’s face, the look of pure gratitude and relief and maybe something else…it made him feel better as he dropped to his knees and dry heaved a few times. Derek hurried over to him and placed a hand between his shoulders, instinctively rubbing up and down over the vest. Even if Hotch couldn’t feel it, he knew Derek was there.

“Hotch?”

“I’m okay,” he gasped, glad that nothing was actually coming up. You have to eat in order to have anything to expel and he couldn’t remember the last time he’d had anything but coffee. Dinner the night before? Maybe? “Go. Find Will. I’ll be right behind you.”

Derek did as he was told without arguing, but took one last moment to glance back as he stepped out of the alley. He knew better than to go back, knew better than to ask what was wrong. He could do that later.

(x)

How Dave managed to put together a wedding on such short notice was beyond any of them, but Hotch knew better than most what money could do to trump time. Enough zeroes on a check and you could get anything (and anyone) you wanted. So, mere days after being shot and chained to a bomb, Will was ready to take JJ's hand in marriage and Hotch...well he was just trying to gather the courage to show up.

Jessica was smoothing his sweater over his shoulders and smiling at how soft he looked in it while he grumbled about every minute detail.

“You’re still not sure you should go,” she said, turning him toward her. He shrugged.

“I think everyone would have more fun if I didn’t go.”

“That doesn’t make any sense.”

“Considering what I put everyone through this past year…”

“Stop it. Right now, stop it.”

His shoulders slumped pitifully and she almost felt bad for snapping at him, but not quite. He deserved it. He could be so stupid sometimes she just couldn’t stand it.

“You didn’t do anything maliciously. You were trying to help, and sometimes that means getting it wrong...it isn’t as if you had all the time in the world to consider repercussions. You had to make a split second decision. Maybe it was right, maybe it was wrong, but Emily is alive and your team is intact and isn’t that what you were going for?”

“Not everyone is intact.”

“Derek’s going to come back. He loves you so much. He still does. You don’t wake up at the crack of dawn and show up to babysit a kid so his dad can go do some stupid triathlon if you don’t still care.”

“I didn’t tell him I’d asked Dave.”

“Of course. You assumed that breaking up meant that you had to find someone new to watch him, that’s reasonable. And he assumed that he’d made the commitment and he had to honor it. Also reasonable. Of course, if you two were better at communicating…”

“I know.”

“My point being, he still loves you. And Jack. I think he just needs time. You have plenty of time.”

He slumped down on the couch and put his head in his hands, breathing in deep. Once, twice. Filling his lungs, pausing, exhaling. His head hurt, hadn’t stopped hurting since the explosion. He had an MRI in the morning, an MRI he should have scheduled sooner but he thought it would go away. He hadn’t been as close to this explosion this time, it shouldn’t have been so bad, but then there was the gunshot and the noise from the scene and the pain in his head had been like a hot knife slicing through his brain like a Thanksgiving turkey ever since.

“How about you take one of your nuclear pills and I’ll be your designated driver?” Jess offered, crouching before him with her hands on his knees. “Come on. Take one and you might actually enjoy the wedding. You know I love crashing weddings.”

“You have a date tonight,” he countered miserably before lying back and throwing his arm over his eyes, resting his head against the cushion to try and take some of the pressure off. She huffed at him, that irritated little puffing noise she made that meant she thought he was a complete idiot without actually saying the words.

“I can reschedule. Anita will understand.”

“Anita? The nurse?”

Not just any nurse. The nurse who had cared for him when he was in the Urgent Care sick as a dog a few months back. The nurse whose sarcasm was biting and her smile was enchanting. The nurse with a head full of silver hair she claimed was due entirely to the stress of her job.

“That’s the one.”

“You got a date while I was sick? That’s low, even for you.”

“She’s pretty. And she said I was a saint for dealing with you. How can I resist such compliments?”

He groaned miserably. “I was sick.”

“You were. Very sick, really. But her point still stands. You’re a pain in the ass and I’ve been putting up with it for decades. I deserve to get a little something for my trouble once in a while.”

“Is she nice?”

“Very,” Jessica replied with a smile, her fingers scratching at his scalp mindlessly as she settled in on the couch beside him. He’d always liked his head being scratched but even more when it hurt. “She’s smart and charming and sweet, too. She has great taste in restaurants, but she drinks sweet white wine so I guess she’s not perfect.”

“Not many are.” His shoulders relaxed as she scraped her nails over his scalp. It didn’t exactly do anything to the pain itself but he found it easier to ignore, at least marginally. “You could bring her,” he offered quietly. “To the wedding. If you want.”

“I don’t think she’s ready to meet the whole family,” Jessica said with a smile.

“She’s already met me. Everyone else is easy.”

“Good point. I’ll ask her. Does that mean you’re going to take the meds like a good boy?”

“I don’t think I can go if I don’t.”

“Look at you, making good choices.” He didn’t want to take the pill; it made him goofy. It made him feel lightheaded and dizzy, made him say things without thinking first. Made him cry over silly things, like Disney movies and finding crayons crunched in the couch cushions. The pill really didn’t do much except make him forget how bad his head hurt. Which he knew was ultimately the goal, but the tradeoff didn’t always seem worth it. He didn’t like the way it made him feel like a different person.

“Here,” Jess said, extending the pill and a glass of water to him after rummaging around through the medicine cabinet for a moment. He was always pushing it to the back like he was ashamed of it. “Anita said she’d love to come as long as there’s an open bar. I told her that David Rossi never skimps on the booze and do you know what she said?”

“She’s a big fan of his books,” he deadpanned and she let out a barking laugh that hurt his head.

“Exactly. Said she couldn’t believe I was just casually inviting her to David Rossi’s mansion for a wedding hours before the wedding and what was she going to wear.”

“She doesn’t need to worry,” he said quietly, sipping at the water. “She could come in scrubs if she wanted. No one would hold it against her.”

“Did you learn nothing from being married to Haley all those years?”

He hummed, admitting defeat. “I think the answer to that should be obvious.”

“Point taken. I’m going to go home and find a dress, you lay here and rest. Let that pill do it’s thing. We’ll be by to pick you guys up in an hour.”

(x)

The party was bigger than Hotch had imagined it would be on such short notice. More people milling around, many faces he recognized and some he didn’t. They were a little late, maybe it was fashionable, maybe it was rude, he couldn’t be trusted to tell the difference in his fuzzy state.

“Aaron,” Dave said, pulling him in for a hug. “How are you?”

Hotch never know how to answer that question truthfully, so he rarely did. “Good,” he replied, smiling. The smile wasn’t even forced, at least. But Dave knew anyway.

“Liar.”

“I’m okay, Dave.”

“You get that ear looked at?”

“I have an appointment in the morning for an MRI. It’s giving me some trouble but I’m sure it’ll be fine.”

“You keep me posted. In the meantime, why don’t you introduce me to your guests?”

Hotch smiled a little sheepishly and stepped out of the way to let Jessica and Anita be greeted by their host. Jack was standing beside Hotch, still in his shy phase even if he did know everyone here. “You know Haley’s sister Jessica,” Hotch said, waiting a moment before continuing. “And this is her date Anita.”

“Anita,” Dave said, kissing her hand with all of that charm he had at his disposal, holding nothing back. Hotch watched, blinking slowly, doing everything a little slowly. “How did the two of you meet?”

“She brought him to the Urgent Care with a pretty bad case of strep throat,” Anita replied casually. “By the time they left he had antibiotics and a doctor’s note to stay home from work and I had a pretty girl’s phone number.”

“I remember that, it’s hard to get him to miss any work,” Dave said, eyeing Hotch. “It’s been a couple of months now.”

Emily approached Hotch as Dave took Jessica and Anita by the arm, one on each side, to show them around the house and the party. To get them drinks and push them out on to the dance floor. He insisted that his live band not go to waste, and they still had some time to kill before the bride was ready to walk down the aisle. The look on her face was sad, unbearably so, and he knew he wasn’t up for the conversation she looked ready to have. Ready or not, he had to try.

“Do you want to talk?” he asked when she sighed more than spoke her hello. She looked distressed, sad, heartbroken really.

“No, not here,” she said quietly. “But soon. Tomorrow maybe. Okay?”

“Tomorrow,” he repeated. “I have an appointment early in the morning, we can meet for coffee afterward.”

“It’s a date,” she replied, forcing a smile. Derek watched the interaction from across the room, his drink in hand. He knew she was leaving, and he missed her already. It was crushing him, and he knew it would crush Hotch too. After everything they’d done, he felt for the man. His world had come crashing down when Emily died, but he knew Hotch’s hadn’t ever stopped. Everything just kept stacking up – from Emily’s death to her new life, Pakistan and Emily coming back and the Senate Hearing Committee, his team being scrutinized, the trip to Chicago for Derek’s cousin that was made more awkward by his family’s knowledge that the two of them had broken up. His aunt Yvonne had tried to push them back together and only made it worse for them in the end. And his mother...his mother was angry at him. “He didn’t lie to hurt you,” she’d scolded first by phone and then later in person, in Desiree’s hospital room of all places. “He lied to protect you. I seem to recall you pulling the same stunt on us, your family and we still love you.” But he still lied, and it was hard to put that trust back in place. It just wasn’t that easy. He was trying so damn hard.

Showing up and watching Jack for him so he could go do his race, showing up at 4am only to find Dave already there...it had been an olive branch opportunity, but he couldn’t do it when he saw Dave. Because that meant Hotch didn’t believe he would still honor his commitment, it meant Hotch really believed it was over. At least that’s what he told himself when he entered the apartment anyway, because how could he leave when Jack’s eyes lit up? When Jack hugged him and said he missed him? “I miss you too, kiddo,” he’d said and Dave asked him to stay, invited him to have some of the scrambled eggs he was cooking up while Hotch thanked them both and rushed out the door. It wouldn’t take both of them to watch Jack but he couldn’t leave the kid. It gave him an excuse to throw Jack up on his shoulders, to cheer Hotch on, and it surprised him when he called him baby as he approached the finish line. He detected amusement from Dave beside him but the rest of the team were so wrapped up in their own morning drama that they didn’t say a word.

He watched Hotch make his way through the party as he danced with Penelope, as he danced with Emily and even Reid. The music was upbeat and fun, easy for dancing and forgetting the weight of the last few days. The last few months. When he saw Will talking to Rossi, waiting for his bride, he couldn’t help being a little jealous even if he was happy for them. He thought it would be him next. He really thought he and Hotch had it all, too. Did Will care that JJ lied to him about Emily? Of course it wasn’t exactly the same, Will didn’t know Emily like that, he didn’t stick his hands in her blood, hold her while she waited for the ambulance, look into her eyes and watch the light fade. But he still didn’t know she’d lived. JJ kept it from him, too.

Finally Hotch, in his customary rounds, came to Derek near the drinks. “Hey,” Derek said, reaching out to catch him by the elbow like he was just going to walk by. He probably was. He’d almost gone out of his way to respect Derek’s request for space, gone so far overboard that it felt like he’d been the one dumped and not the other way around. “How’re you doing?”

“I’m okay,” Hotch replied quietly, barely audible over the DJ’s dance music. He was blaring something by ABBA that had Jessica and Anita out on the floor having a blast. “You?”

“Same.”

The conversation stalled predictably. They couldn’t talk to one another anymore. “Where are you sitting?” Derek asked casually. Hotch shrugged.

“Wherever Jack tells me we’re sitting I suppose.”

At that Derek smiled. “Well, we’d better find some seats huh? Looks like things are getting serious.”

As it ended up, the seats Jack chose put them right beside Derek and Penelope. Hotch’s knee bumped Derek’s as he took his seat and tried to make himself smaller so he didn’t block anyone’s view, so he didn’t take up too much space. Nothing ever had the kind of leg room he needed.

The wedding was fast, short and sweet, to the point. JJ looked beautiful and Will looked so happy Hotch could hardly stand it. He cried, not at all surprised by the display of emotion. He knew it was going to happen the minute he swallowed that damn pill. At least he wasn’t alone, there wasn’t a dry eye in the house when he glance around. Not even Derek beside him could contain the tears in his eyes.

What he hadn’t expected was to find Derek’s hand circling his, dragging it into his lap and letting it rest there against his thigh. They didn’t look at each other, but that connection made Hotch’s heart nearly burst in his chest. He froze, staring straight ahead a little too intently, breath painfully tight and burning in his lungs. Derek squeezed his hand and his vision narrowed to pinpricks, splotches of color flashing over the scene.

When JJ and Will kissed, Derek squeezed his hand again and then let it go. They didn’t talk, Derek just got up and took Penelope to the dance floor at the invitation of the DJ, swaying along with her. Hotch watched from beside Jack and Henry as everyone made their way back out there.

“Hotch?” Emily asked, coming up beside him quietly. He hadn’t realized she wasn’t out there, but now her hand was extended to him with a sheepish smile. “You can’t sit this one out. It’s the law I think.”

“Sure I can,” he replied, but he took her hand and led her to the dance floor anyway, holding her gently as they settled into the foxy. She looked up at him with wide eyes and a grin.

“You actually know how to dance,” she said. “Of course you do. Why am I surprised that the guy who carries silk hankies can ballroom dance?”

“There are a lot of things you don’t know about me, Emily.”

“Yeah...well...there are a lot of things you don’t know about me, too, y'know…”

That made him laugh, a light lead in to giving her a gentle twirl and a dip. Derek glanced at them as he swayed with Penelope.

“He’s really good,” Penelope whispered in Derek’s ear. “Did he ever take you dancing?”

Derek nodded, closing his eyes. “Yeah. He did.”

“You should go cut in. I saw what you did back there…”

“I don’t think I’m ready for that yet.”

“What is it going to take?”

“I don’t know mama. I don’t know. I never broke up with someone I was still in love with before.”

“Is Emily leaving us?” The way she changed course made him stiffen up and she could hardly contain her emotion at that. She knew just by that alone. “She is. Why?”

“You’ll have to ask her yourself.”

And all at once she was dragging them across the dance floor, cutting in on Hotch and Emily’s dance. He wasn’t sure if it was calculated or not, but he thought it probably was. She was like that. She didn’t even ask before peeling Emily away from Hotch, before taking her hand and moving them away. Emily glanced at Hotch apologetically and shrugged, not bothering to fight back.

“Well,” Derek said quietly, extending his hand to Hotch. “You want to take me for a spin? It’s been a while, I’m a little rusty. I’ll try to keep up.”

“I’m sure you still have it,” Hotch said, taking Derek’s hand and pressing in close. Derek smelled good, sweet like cigar smoke and cinnamon and bourbon. He began leading, stepping in time with the music and wasn’t surprised when Derek fell into step easily. “If I stumble, I’m sorry,” he added quietly, his mouth unbearably close to Derek’s ear. “I had to take some medication and it makes me a little loopy.”

“What for?” Derek asked, hardly caring whether Hotch stumbled over his feet.

“The explosion at the bank re-injured my ear. I’m sure it’s fine but it does hurt quite a lot.”

“You get it looked at?”

“I have an MRI in the morning.”

Derek smiled and nodded, realizing that they had fallen into perfect sync with one another almost effortlessly. Like no time had passed. Talking felt forced but it was getting easier the further in they went.

“Do you need me to take Jack to school?”

“Jessica said she could,” Hotch replied. Derek nodded.

“I know she will, but she’s getting herself pretty good and liquored up…”

“She was supposed to be my designated driver.”

“Yeah. I’ll drive you guys home, I’m not in the mood to drink tonight anyway. Had a bourbon with Rossi and Will to take the taste out of those nasty cigars he gave us, but otherwise I’ve been sipping soda water with lime.”

“You don’t need to do that. I think Anita has been drinking Sprite. She works in the morning.”

“Hotch…” Derek said, leaning back just far enough that they could lock eyes. “I’m not just offering to drive you home because I think you need a ride. I’m really trying here…”

“Oh.”

“Oh? I mean if you don’t want me to...if you’ve moved on…”

“No. I...no. That isn’t it.”

“Okay, so what is it?”

Hotch let out a small sigh and pursed his lips. “You asked for space, and I gave it to you. But in Chicago...it felt like you were finished. The way you behaved led me to believe your need for space had become something more. That you had come to a decision and that we had no future.”

“You really think I’d do that and not talk to you?”

“I don’t know, Derek. I have no right to expect anything of you anymore.”

“So you’re good just letting it die? You’re not gonna fight for it?”

“Derek, what do you want from me? You said you couldn’t trust me, that you needed space...when you ask me for space, I am going to give it to you. Did you really want me to fight?”

“No, but I didn’t think it would be so damn easy to let go of either.”

“It hasn’t been easy. Has it looked easy? Is that really what you think?”

“Well it hasn’t exactly looked hard.”

Hotch was on the verge of tears, maybe angry tears at this point, he didn’t know. He had almost no control over that and wasn’t going to expend any energy trying to. “I think you’re the only one who can’t see it.”

Derek didn’t like the sound of that, mostly because it hurt. It was probably true. He’d been doing his best not to pay any attention to Hotch, because paying attention hurt and made him want to go back to him and he knew he wasn’t ready for it. Because he felt like he shouldn’t be. He shouldn’t just be okay with Hotch lying to him, should he? Even if he’d done the same damn thing to his family over his cousin? And they forgave him because she was back in their lives, they forgave him because his motivation was for good. Wasn’t Hotch’s too? It wasn’t like he did it for his own gain. Every time he got close, something pulled him away.

“Maybe I am,” he admitted finally. “Hotch. I love you. I never stopped, I hope you know that. But I just don’t know how to forget what happened.”

“I would never ask you to forget.”

Of course Hotch would say that. Just be willing to keep a relationship up when he’s at an automatic deficit. Spend forever trying to make up for his failures.

“I hope for your forgiveness,” Hotch added quietly, almost too quietly for Derek to hear. “But I wouldn’t expect you to forget.”

“It can’t happen again.”

“I can’t make that kind of promise, Derek. I think you know that. There was no way I could have predicted being in that situation before and I can’t know something won’t arise again, but if there is any way around it, I will take it. I can do better than I have done at including you and sharing the burden. I can do better at including you in the hard decisions. I can do better.”

“You can, or you will?”

Hotch smirked at that, at the wording only they would pick apart. “I will.”

“Good enough,” Derek said, finally, taking the lead from Hotch for a moment. Remembering his own feet, his own rhythm. He’d missed this feeling, their bodies moving like one, the smell of Hotch. It was soft and clean, cotton and sunshine, he never wore more than deodorant and maybe some aftershave that lingered. He swayed his hips, stepping back and then forward, upping the tempo with the music. Hotch never missed a step even if he did look a little pale, a little light on his feet. Derek wanted to spin him, to twirl and dip him but he thought that might be pressing his luck. Instead he leaned in and kissed him, stealing his breath. “I don’t want space anymore. I want this.”

“Me too.”

From the bar, while she waited for her new drink, Emily smiled and watched Hotch and Derek. She couldn’t help it. “All it took was me leaving,” she said quietly and Penelope let out the wet sob she’d been holding back for two songs now.

“No,” she wailed, pulling Emily into a teary hug. “No no no.”

“It’s okay Pen. It’s for the best. We all need it. A fresh start for everyone. We can’t go back to the way it was before and it only hurt everyone to try...this is good. I promise.”

“Why doesn’t it feel good?”

“Because goodbyes are hard, even if they’re necessary. But look at that...look at them…look at Hotch and Derek...and JJ and Will...don’t cry over me.”

“Can I come visit you?”

“Of course.”

“Right away. I’ll help you move in. We can shop for furniture and explore your new neighborhood and find the best place for um…fish and chips...you eat the fish I’ll eat the chips…”

“Yes,” Emily smiled, holding Penelope’s hand tight. “To all of it. Yes. I’d love that.”

“Good! Now, come dance with me. Because I need to soak up as much Emily Prentiss as I possibly can tonight…”

“Anything for you, Penelope.”

"Ahhh," Penelope gushed, squeezing Emily's hand. "You are so right."

[84reedsy]

The Mentorship, Part 9

The Mentorship

Characters: Curt Hennig/FemOC , Scott Hall/FemOC

Part 9 of ? (Parts not chapters, parts length varies)

Word Count: 4406

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part8

Warnings/Considerations: Smut, Age Gap, Power Dynamics, Dirty Talk, swearing

It was now Brinkley that was handing out silent treatments, barely answering Curt as he tried to generate conversation. He was a little surprised at the length of her tantrum and why she was holding on to her anger so long. She normally let things roll off her back fairly easily. She would need that skill as much as any other on the road. Spending this much time with any group would get to anyone, but if she didn’t forgive and forget, she was going to spend a lot of time upset. 

“This…this is kind of fancy,” She finally spoke, looking at the hotel they pulled into, normally they stuck with what was cheap and nearby, this was neither. 

“So she does still speak,” Curt said snarkily as he parked, “ Yeah, I got a connection,” he fibbed. 

“Did we beat everyone else?” She looked around not seeing any cars she recognized. 

“Guess so,” he shrugged, grabbing for his own bag. 

Scott reached in and grabbed his and her bag as well. She tried to grab it from him.

“I can get my own bag,” She huffed, but could not budge it from his shoulder. 

“Give it up, Brink, I’ve got the damn bag,” he refused her, only making her scowl more. 

Curt arrived at the desk ahead of them, giving his name and credit card for the reservation he’d made. He cringed at the total, but signed without hesitation.

He walked over to Scott and Brinkley as they entered the lobby. Curt held up three cards. 

“Just had one room, booked up for the night,” He lied again. Scott knew the truth, but played it off as if he were mildly annoyed. 

“Not sharing a bed with you this time, Hennig,” He said, but looked at Brinkley. She could feel his eyes on her and felt a small surge of pride that her prank might live on in infamy. She dropped the small smile that had snuck out of her quickly, “And no cameras,”

Brinkley knew he was trying to goad her into responding, but she resisted. She took her card key, a little irritated that she wouldn’t have space from Scott other than when they naturally would go out to the bar. She assumed she’d end up sharing a bed with Curt. She tried not to think of what she might get away with out of spite for Scott who would be sleeping feet away.

She tried to squash feeling bad about having that thought. The truth was, Scott had not done anything to her; Kevin had. And Kevin was more of an ornery brat than even she was. She tried to also ignore the guilt settling in her gut for taking out her anger on Scott. She might be dabbling in hypocrisy herself. She’d apologize tomorrow if she still felt the same.

She was shocked at the size of the room and that there was more than one actual room. 

“You paid for a suite?” She walked into the separated bedroom where a massive king bed filled most of the room. Another bedroom had two full size beds and even the living room had a couch that looked incredibly comfortable. Worst case scenario she’d be camping out here. She would imagine having paid for the room, Curt would claim the main bedroom. 

“It’s all they had,” Curt shrugged, tossing his bag into that bedroom as expected. 

“At least no one has to share,” Scott dropped his bag by the door. She couldn’t tell if he was disappointed or relieved. He looked at Curt, who mouthed silently “30 minutes…”

She was surprised when only Scott left for the bar, not inviting her and Curt opting to stay behind. She felt stupid for feeling left out. Why on earth would he invite her after the way she’d been towards him since the match? She was confused by her own signals and she was the one sending them. 

As she showered, she wondered if Curt remembered he’d asked her to only wait one more day. She felt a tingle between her legs as she thought about it, the hot water stream doing nothing to diminish it. She’d made it nearly two weeks, even though she tried to cash in on day one. She couldn’t help how attracted she was to him; she did find herself disappointed that it wouldn’t be Scott. She felt like they were close to some sort of sexual breakthrough. 

Digging through her things, she found the lacey lingerie with the tags still attached. She looked at the black lace that was so skimpy, she might as well just go naked. But she slipped it on, nearly falling over as she tried to step into the panties, discovering that they were crotch-less panties. 

“Well what is the freaking point then,” She mumbled to herself in the mirror, checking angles. It still looked sexy. The bra-like top was about as useful in coverage, but worked magic on lift. She took advantage of one of the complimentary robes and crept out of the bathroom. Hearing the other shower going from the master suite was a relief and she quickly tiptoed into his room. 

She sat on the corner of the bed, trying to decide whether to keep the robe on for a reveal, or let it lay open. She leaned back on her elbows, opting for the latter and crossed her legs. She felt a nervous leap in her stomach when the water ceased. After only a few moments, Curt emerged in nothing but a towel around his waist, drying his hair with another. He paused when he saw what lay on his bed. 

He had expected something, but was surprised by what she was wearing - more specifically how little. 

“You said one more day,” She murmured, “You’ve kept that dick from me for long enough,” 

“Thinking of this for the ring?” He looked over the ‘outfit’, even with her legs crossed, he noticed the lack of fabric, “You’ll be the most popular one there,” 

“No…this is for you,” she lifted herself so she leaned back on her hands now, her chest naturally jutting forward. 

“Just for me?” He questioned, knowing that she likely bought at the off chance Scott might get to see it, “What a thoughtful little girl,” He could care less why she bought it, he was the one getting to enjoy it, “Show Daddy more,” 

She uncrossed her legs slowly and spread them for him as he walked slowly toward her. She bit her lip, looking hungry when he undid his towel and let it fall. His shaft was already thickening, hanging with a heavy sway that made her lick her lips at the sight of it. 

“I should make these the only thing you wear around me,” he teased, “My balls would be dry,”

“Might make you a little lighter and faster on your feet,” She teased back, “I haven’t seen you jack off since that first night,” She bit her lip sheepishly as he paused. 

“So you saw that huh?” He placed one knee on the bed between her legs, “I thought you’d be fast asleep,” 

“Kinda hard to sleep next to a jackhammer,” She derided him. Curt only sarcastically grinned for a moment before his hand gripped her face firmly.

“I bet you had a lot of dirty thoughts…show me what you wanted to do when you saw me stroking my cock,” He squeezed her jaw lightly, before leaning down to kiss her. He left her lips swollen and her eyes were even darker and hungrier than before. 

Brinkley slid off the bed, the robe falling to the floor. As Curt sat on the corner of the bed, she knelt between his legs. She remembered how he liked her to start, teasing the tip and touching it softly. She kissed lightly from the tip down the underside to his very laden testicles, eliciting a groaning response when she licked each one. He cursed when she sucked one heavy orb into her mouth, her hand slowly stroking him. 

As she slowly moved her mouth back up along his pulsing flesh, she made a point to use the tip of her tongue to slowly lick the pearl of precum from his tip. She relished the way he looked at her as she pleasured him, she wondered if Scott would look at her like that. 

She sank his tip between her lips, slowly descending with each pass. She had to admit, there was something she really enjoyed about this act. Perhaps it was the control, it might have been the pride of making a man respond so primally. She focused on doing things to make him groan, curse, or grab her head. 

He did the latter with both hands, slowing the bob of her head out of preservation. He saw the room door open through the bedroom doorway and felt smug, but excited at the same time.

Scott walked in quietly, carefully to control the door as it shut. He could hear the muted, but telltale noises that said he'd arrived right on time.  

Through the bedroom doorway he saw Curt, but his eyes immediately focused on the sight of Brinkley's ass, hovering above the floor as her knees splayed below her. Out of those tights it looked even better. Whatever she was wearing, he thanked god it was so little. 

Her dark damp hair fell down her back, curling in loose waves. He couldn’t wait to thread his large fist into them. Curt was definitely into the moment, but he managed to motion to him.  

Scott slipped his shirt off and walked slowly and quietly up behind her. His adrenaline coursed through his veins; his pulse was loudly thumping in his ears.  He kneeled on the floor behind her.  She looked to be very content sucking cock. He needed that to be him. 

Brinkley dipped her head lower and lower, gasping for breath every few passes. She followed the pressure of both of his hands holding her head to set the pace, liking the feeling of being directed. She moaned against his cock as she felt two fingers slip between her pussy lips,  gently stroking the freshly wet skin of her sex.  The fingertips massaged her clit in wide slow circles.

“Oh, Daddy yes,” she moaned with a low rasp. 

Scott’s eyebrows shot up at the kinky wordplay. His cock pulsed in his jeans.

As she descended on his cock again she paused, still feeling both of his hands on her head.  And there was no possible way that his hands would be touching her like she was being touched.

Curt felt her start to pull away,  but he held her head in place with his hands.  Her whole body stiffened as she slightly dug her nails into his thighs.

“Calm down,” he spoke low, but firm. She was still rigid, feeling the fingers on her sex stall, but not recede, “do you trust me?”

Brinkley was able to lift her mouth off of him, her breathing shaking as she felt a stranger's hands on her. She looked up at Curt with wide eyes as he asked her again. 

“Do you trust me,” he met her eyes. She didn't want to say yes,  but it would have been a lie to say otherwise.

“Yes,” she answered, nodding her head. But she still couldn't turn to see who was touching her. 

“Cum for him,” Curt said, still holding her head, his cock resting against her cheek. 

She shuddered as the strong, long fingers started working her again.  He knew how to tease her clit, still circling but occasionally flicking over it quickly. 

Scott couldn't wait to taste her, just her scent alone was making his mouth water.  He considered sliding under her and letting her ride his face until she was spent, but watching her like this was quite the show as well. 

Unable to resist, he slid his fingers back and slid them inside her with rhythmic strokes. He bit his tongue to keep from groaning as she started fucking his fingers back.

“Fuck…I'm gonna cum….” She blushed for a moment, realizing she'd already called Curt 'daddy’ in front of this mystery person.

“Good girl, cum for him, tell him,” Curt's hands loosened, sliding down to her arms. 

Brinkley bit her lip, whimpering as her sex tightened around the invading digits.

“I'm cumming! God, Yes! Please don't stop…” she begged, nearly collapsing in Curt's lap. She panted through the aftershocks, knowing who she hoped would be there when she looked back. 

She wasn't sure she wanted to look, just by the off chance it really was someone else. Curiosity got the best of her as she slowly peeked behind her. Scott's hairy,  perfect torso was a welcome relief and whatever tenseness that remained melted away. 

A surge of desire flooded her as her eyes lifted to meet his. He was still touching her, gently and softly.  She was sure she'd never seen his face so dark and full of want. 

“Are you OK with this?” Scott asked, hooking his fingers inside of her a little.  

She gasped a little but nodded. She turned slightly,  snaking an arm around his neck to pull him down to her.  She was desperate to kiss him again and his hungry lips did not disappoint. He had to let his fingers slip out of her,  but he slid it around her to massage a lace covered breast.

Brinkley let her free hand stroke Curt, his shaft still slick from her mouth.  

“What do you want to do with her, Scott?” Curt couldn't be called an ungracious host, but he knew Scott had been more than anxious to get with her.  

Scotts head swam, he almost was in disbelief that she was here,  mostly naked in his arms and willingly and fully available to him. He was torn between tasting her and feeling her lips on his cock.  While he volleyed his options, she lifted his cum soaked fingers to her lips and suckled herself from them,  her eyes never leaving his. 

“Christ, I need my dick sucked…bad,” he was fumbling with his belt clumsily. Brinkley felt Curt pull her towards the bed and she followed, but didn't take her eyes off of Scott's quickly working hands. 

Curt laid her out on the bed, parting her legs he devoured her already gleaning pussy.  She jolted a bit,  still sensitive from Scott's ministrations. She arched a little off the bed,  feeling it dip slightly.  Looking up,  she saw Scott's somehow more impressive shaft pulsing over her face. She turned towards it, achingly hungry for him as she failed to start at a slow pace as she had with Curt.

“FUCK,” Scott hissed through his teeth as his hand slid through her hair and pushed past her threshold. She pulled away coughing and gasping, but sank him back in her mouth on her own quickly, “Oh, fuck that is such a good girl,” he growled, his arousal flared by her eagerness to please.

Brinkley felt an orgasm rushing forward as Curt roughly sucked her clit. As It crashed into her,  she did her best to deepthroat Scott, making his head tilt back and his fingers grip her hair tighter. 

“Please fuck me,” she begged, desperately needing to feel filled by either of them. 

Curt definitely could have sunk into her, but resisted. He slipped off the bed.

“Guests first,” he joked,  not having to tell Scott twice. 

Brinkley felt butterflies burst in her stomach as Scott slid quickly between her legs.  She propped herself up as Scott yanked her by the hips toward him.  He smacked her clit with his tip, eliciting a gasp each time. 

Scott watched her face as he sank halfway in.  She looked at him with a mix of relief and seduction, moaning loudly as he thrusted the rest of the way in, pushing her threshold of fullness.

“Ohmygod,” she fell back to the bed, her breath caught in her chest as he thrusted again.  Curt gripped her tits roughly as she reached to stroke him,  suckling his tip as he moved closer. 

Scott was mesmerized by how his cock looked disappearing in her gripping sex.  He could feel her spasming around him and it only heightened his arousal to feel how responsive she was to him. He rolled his hips in a harsh rhythm, pausing between only to hear her pleasured responses.

“You wanna try something new, baby girl?” Curt asked,  stroking her hair as she looked at him in a sex laden haze. She nodded, Scott's slowing thrusts still filling her, “Say it, “

“Yes,  Daddy,” she whined, feeling Scott’s cock twitch inside her. Curt smirked and slid off the bed. 

“Be right back,” he disappeared into the bathroom.  

Scott took the opportunity and lay over the top of her,  kissing her. Her legs naturally wrapped around him. He had to use every bit if him not to fuck her silly until his nut overflowed out of her tight pussy. 

“Get on top of him,” Curt urged, setting a bottle on the bedside table.  He stroked his cock with the gel while she timidly straddled Scott's hips, “She's never been on top before,” Curt smirked again,  seeing her nervous.

Scott was quick to lay flat, rubbing her thighs as she hovered above him. 

“She'll take to it really good,” he crooned at her,  “won't you baby?” His dark gaze looking up at her and his petting hands were encouragement enough.  He helped guide the bulging member into her and as he filled her again,  her eyes fluttered closed and a satisfied groan left her mouth.  His hips bucked a little, emboldening her to move on him.  She gyrated with a slow, fluid motion. 

Both men were taken while watching her move. Take to this position,  did she ever. Curt wondered if they'd have another chance where he could watch her work him like this. 

As she moved,  Curt stripped the bra off of her, both enjoying the sway of her tits as her movements became more spirited. Brinkley braced herself against Scott's chest, her fingers raking through his dark hair.  Just touching him was turning her on more than she'd imagined. She was losing track of how many times his cock had made her cum,  assaulting her g-spot without mercy. She knew she'd want him again. 

“Bend over sweetheart,” Curt gently pushed her downward. Scott's hands roughly toyed with her tits. He knew Curt's plan now,  trying to keep her relaxed. 

“Just breath,” he murmured,  pulling her down to kiss him.  Curt situated himself behind her,  pressing his thick, slickened glans against her still virgin asshole. 

She whimpered against Scott’s lips as Curt slowly inched his way in. She tensed, but both men tried to relax her. She tried to calm herself, soon feeling a fullness that she couldn't describe if she tried. 

As both men moved in a slow rhythm, Brinkley was robbed of coherent thought, airy moans were all that left her. Both cocks stroking her insides sent constant shockwaves to her core. Curt's possessive grip around her waist and Scott's pawing and wandering hands sent her over the edge of sensory overload.

As Curt fucked her ass harder,  she was pushed against Scott, her nipples rubbed roughly by his chest hair. She bit lightly as his collarbone as she came to the intensity of both holes being filled. 

“Jesus, Brinkley, your pussy is gonna kill me,” Scott mumbled into her ear,  his hips thrusting upwards with a magnitude that alluded to his own pending orgasm.

“Fuck…so is this hot little ass,” Curt grunted, not fighting his orgasm as he came in her no- longer-innocent hole, filling her deep as he stayed buried to the hilt.

She moaned as she felt one filling her,  but also feeling the stretch of Scott's cock as it threatened to spill into her as well. 

“I should pull out,” he whispered, but his face betrayed his suggestion.

“Don't you fucking dare,” Brinkley's lust filled eyes dared him to defy her.  He didn't need any further convincing as he grunted and flooded her cunt with his plentiful seed. 

She grinned slightly, moaning at the feeling of his cum inside her. She’d imagined it for so long,  but it felt so much better than she could have thought. And Curt's adventurous ploy only added to her sexual satisfaction.

Curt slipped from her first,  helping her to sit up and to her shaky and unstable legs.  

“Dirty girl's gonna need to shower again,” he popped her asscheek lightly.  

“I got her,” Scott popped up, picking her up when her legs still wobbled. Curt stepped back.  He hoped that things would go this way.  If Scott could take his place for her physical outlet, it would be better for all of them. 

Scott carried her to the bathroom and drew her a bath.  She felt embarrassed by the level of attention,  but did not reject it. She sat in the steamy water,  her legs and hips still quivered a bit. Scott had rinsed himself,  but sat naked next to the tub with her. 

“I guess you aren't still pissed at me,” Scott joked,  “if I had known that was his plan-”

Brinkley leaned over and pressed her hand to his mouth. 

“I know.  I was being ridiculous,” she admitted, “I'm sorry,” She returned with her own apology. “I'm glad you came,” she rested her chin on his forearm. 

“Kind hard not to,” he joked,  crassly, “that thing you got between your legs is dangerous,”

Brinkley couldn't help but giggle as her cheeks burned.

“You know what I mean,” she nudged him lightly, “I really am…”

Scott's hand slid over her hair, resting on her cheek,  his thumb stroking slowly. 

“Me too,” 

“So…I guess you know that Curt and I…” she trailed off, knowing that it was more than obvious. 

“Yeah,  I've known for a while, actually,” he admitted, “Curt might have let the cat outta the bag early.”

“How long??” She was surprised at his admission.

“About a week before we came back out?” He thought back, “Yeah, about that long,” He started to feel guilty now. He wouldn't blame her for feeling used, “He said that you had pulled a fast one on him. And if anyone knows anything about him…he will get the last word,”

“So…was this just a joke to you?” She asked. He turned expecting her to be angry, but she looked only curiously at him.

“No,” he shook his head, “it mighta been a means to an end. But you should know I've been wanting this,”

“I did. I wanted it, too,” she splashed him with a small sprinkling of water.

“You've wanted me since the first time we met. I saw it in your eyes,” Scott narrowly avoided the water, “and I know you still want me more,” he said with a confidence that would have made it true if it wasn't already. 

“So what if I do? What does that make…?” She motioned between them. 

“I don't know yet…but um,” he wanted to ask her to not sleep with Curt, or anyone else, but he didn't know how he could do that without asking for a singular loyalty. He wasn't sure he was capable of being in a relationship, “I just don't know yet,” he gave up on being a hypocrite. He turned, leaning his back against the side of the tub. 

“We don't have to label anything,” she slid up behind him,  wrapping her arms around his shoulders, “but there is one thing…”

Scott's hand rested on her forearms, “and what's that?” He might have been averted from relationships, but he definitely liked this intimacy they were sharing. 

“I really want to feel that mouth on my pussy at least once,” she ran her fingers over his rough, five o'clock shadow. 

“Baby,  you're gonna have a hard time keeping me away from it,” Scott's deep voice promised.

Curt was in bed when they both emerged from the bathroom. She led Scott by his hand to the bed,  laying in the middle and pulling him down into the sheets. 

She rolled over, kissing Curt's cheek before whispering in his ear,  “I'm getting you back for this,” she knew though his eyes were closed,  he was still awake. 

Scott felt awkward at first, though, he felt better when she rolled back to him and rested her cheek on his chest and laid her arm over him. 

“Is this OK?” She mumbled, taking in his scent and the feel of him against her just in case he pushed her away. 

“More than okay, girl,” holding a warm body next to him that wasn't there just to use him was more comforting than he'd thought. He slept easily, pretending it was just the two of them

Brinkley did not want to wake when a soft alarm started to buzz. She moaned, covering her ear with her hand. She snuggled down into the same hairy torso she'd fallen asleep against. She only opened her eyes when the alarm silenced. She looked up to see Curt rousing.

“Don't get up yet,” she motioned for him to return to the solace of the sheets.

“But it's getting late, baby girl,” he realized he would need to change up how he addressed her “plus I gotta be on high alert after your little threat”

“Please? “ she begged, patting the bed beside her, “Temporary truce?”.

Curt sighed, but crawled back in, sliding up beside her.

“Did you at least get some enjoyment out of it or was it pure torture,” he asked, running his hand slowly up and down her thigh.

“Well…I don't know that I'd call it complete torture,” she chided him a bit, “I wasn't expecting that last thing,” her stomach tingled a bit as she remembered how surprisingly good it felt.

“That was the idea,” Curt softly joked, “and it felt fucking amazing,” he mumbled in her ear,  biting her lobe.

“It better have,  because I'm not falling for that again,” her eyes rolled back slightly as he nibbled.  

“I give it three days before you're begging for it,” Curt's hand slid from her thigh over her ass cheeks, “Four, tops,”

“My god,  I'm trying to sleep would you two keep it down,” Scott said,  his eyes still closed. Brinkley giggled a little, but snuggled into him again. 

[charbon-et-eau]

I recently discovered your account through Pixvi. I'm afraid to ask this question, but here goes. I hope not taken the wrong way. I genuinely like your ship art. I gotta wonder how old Brendan is, like, based on your headcanon wise? Forgive me. It's dumb to ask. (If that's the case, I tend to do the same with another Pokemon ship.) If you don't feel comfortable saying it, I completely understand. If you don't want to respond on post, I completely understand; I simply can on DM. Post a chocolate cake picture to let me know.

I've actually already answered this here. I like to hc him as an older teen. I try to reflect that in my art, but I tend to draw Brendan really cute, which probably makes him look younger to most people.

This should go without saying, but I am very much against adults trying to date 16 year olds in real life. However, in fiction, it's fair game. If fictional age gaps involving a teenager make you uncomfortable, that's valid. You're welcome to ignore my headcanons or unfollow/block me.

I just think it's an interesting dynamic to explore in fiction. And I'm actually feeling a bit chatty rn, so for anyone who's interested, I'm gonna expand a little bit on why I find this dynamic interesting under the cut.

For starters, I was a teenager once, and I definitely fantasized about how cool it would be to date someone older. Surely I wasn't the only teenager with fantasies like that, right? Of course, even as a teenager, I knew not to try to make that fantasy a reality.

I was a pretty smart and mature kid, but maybe a little too much. I matured way faster than I probably should have, and as a result, I was always very careful and never took any risks or did any of the stupid things that people usually associate with teens. I was safe (aka boring). I think sometimes I feel like I missed out on the true teenage experience by being too safe. And while that's probably for the best, it's nice to be able to still explore those scenarios through fiction by putting Brendan (or any other fictional character) in Situations.

The other main reason I like making Brendan a teen and sticking him in a relationship with an older man is because it kinda just makes sense given the setting of the source material. In the Pokemon world, it's perfectly normal for kids and teens to leave home and go on potentially dangerous adventures across the region. They can also become gym leaders and champions. I think it makes sense to imagine that kids in the Pokemon world are treated with a lot more respect and agency than in our reality. So it makes sense that the general population in the Pokemon world wouldn't really see any issues with young trainers getting into relationships with older ones. If these young trainers can command a team of up to six incredibly powerful magical creatures in battle, then why would it be weird for them to make out with an older cooltrainer behind the pokemart?

Whether or not this is a good or a bad thing is debatable. My point is that it's interesting to think about what the societal norms surrounding relationships with age gaps would look like in this setting. Also, I think it's funny to imagine Brendan's mom internally cheering "FUCK YEAH!" when she finds out that Brendan is dating the richest man in Hoenn instead of some loser collector or hex maniac that he found on a random route.

I could probably ramble about this more, but I think I've run out of steam for now. Anon, I'm so sorry for rambling, you didn't ask for any of this lol. But thank you for the ask!

[batmanisagatewaydrug]

Hi there! I um…

okay this is like, unbelievably awkward for me but I’m in a catholic school for Highschool which means catholic sex ed and I’m not totally down for that so here are my questions because I have no clue about anything and I’m fifteen and idk why I’m telling you all of this I’m word vomiting and I’m so so sorry.

okay so um. I think I might be ace because I have no interest in having sex and to test that theory I read some novels featuring sex scenes and I did. Y’know, feel something, but like, Idk how to do the pleasuring yourself thing. And um. I was wondering if you had any tips on that that can be done without the use of purchased products or putting anything up there and oh my god this is so awkward I’m so sorry I love your blog and it’s been incredibly educational for me so thank you and im rambling again.

anyways also my period is like, a month and a half late and I’ve never had sex so I can’t be pregnant so any tips about that bc idk if it’s the lack of proper food water and sleep or if I’ve fucked something up internally when I tried to test my ace theory.

super sorry for the incredibly awkward ask I just don’t have anyone to ask irl and… y’know imma just send this. I am so sorry. Thank you for your time and I’m so sorry again.

hey anon,

thanks for sending this ask; I'm glad you did. my best friend's first college boyfriend also got a catholic sex education and he once sincerely asked her if she wanted to use shampoo as lubricant for shower sex, so I feel like I have a pretty good frame of reference for how little information you're working with here.

to your most pressing question: the great news is that it's extremely easy to masturbate without a toy or penetration; you can just start touching stuff in absolutely whatever way feels good to you! if you'd like some tips, I'd recommend starting with this video from sexologist Lindsey Doe and checking out more on her Sexplanations channel if it feels helpful - she's made quite a few videos covering masturbation!

(despite the age restriction, this is actually a very tame video that consists entirely of a very kind, fully-clothed woman cheerfully offering some advice on jacking off.)

there are a lot of reasons your period might be late, but reading a sexy book and masturbating isn't one of them. the only POSSIBLE way you could alter your period by masturbating would be if you caused some kind of internal damage, in which case you would probably know and hopefully be receiving urgent care. having irregular periods is pretty normal when you're young, although they can also be caused by stress, hormonal fluctuations, medications, excess exercise, and insufficient nourishment. many possible causes, but arousal is not one of them!

and circling back to the start of your ask, you absolutely can be ace and still enjoy reading sexy scenes and masturbating. tons of asexual people do! you can be ace and explore your own sexuality as much as you want. you don't need permission but I am giving it to you.

[lonisaiou]

14, 23 and 91!

Ohhh oh!!!! I like these ones quite a lot! This is going to be a lenghty answer

14. I'm stuck between Kokichi's 4th freetime event because I find it absolutely hilarious how he predicts all of Shuichi's moves, and Ibuki's last freetime event because I truly felt seen through her words... It was a very touching moment that I think I won't ever forget; also Ibuki is pretty awesome

23. woah... what can I say, v3's chapter 1 is an absolute 10/10 from start to finish, and an incredible introduction to such a wonderful game! From the motive, the setting + buildup, the blackened and the victim, and also the REAL blackened.... What a crazy start! I would've normally answered v3's chapter 5 because it was genuinely one of the most stressful trials I had to endure, but I barely see chapter 1 getting the credit it deserves (also... I just love these two equally)

To this day it still sends me chills to my bones when we get to the protag switch on the trial, and I even start sobbing! Seriously after all this time and it still gets some tears out of me?? Not many cases gets me this emotional. It was also like such a bold move on the team for getting rid of the protagonist, and setting such an important message that carried all the way through till the end, and affected almost if not all the members of the cast! Kaede is such an amazing character seriously... And I think that's what v3 does best, making you feel so deeply for fictional characters that you truly get invested in the hardships they face

Also Rantaro was such a big enigma, I loved what they were setting up for him and it got me really intrigued as to find out more about him and his talent throughout the game, and when we got, later on, a segment of his video I was so hooked! He's such a mysterious character I can't help it but be drawn to him

Overall, rewatching this chapter for a second time truly hits different, knowing exactly what actually happened and seeing the countless of ways they could've avoided this situation can be a bit frustrating but I would personally not change anything as I enjoy the impact it had on the story

edit: I feel like I haven't properly answered the ask, as I've only touched the trial part of the chapter, but ch1's Daily Life was the real deal, as I was really invested in Kaede's will to work together with everyone, how little by little she formed almost an unbreakable bond with Shuichi (in such a short time at that) and the conflicts that came from her stubborness! Her rivalry with Rantaro, even if it was subtle, was really well handled, since they truly conveyed the Belief vs Distrust themes of v3, and even after their death that theme was thankfully explored through Kokichi and Kaito. I also like how ch1 and ch4 compliment each other as they don't shy away from tormenting these characters alongside the player, and how both blackeneds were almost impossible to imagine commit a crime such as murder. They knew exactly the right buttons to push to get you weeping on your seat

(Ahh.... I will probably talk about v3's chapter 5 on another, more elaborate, post, as I feel that if I start talking about it now this post is going to get reaaaaal long)

91. Dang it why does it always have to be one? There are so many good ones, I can't choose... So I will just link some down here ;)

Gravitational Attraction by whattheskyknows is without a debout one of my favourite oumota fics! And surprsignly enough, it's fluff. (I'm more into angsty fics haha) it's genuinely really funny and their romance is just so them! I would recomend it to anyone

Motive 5: Death Puzzles by lunarleonardo is a really good chapter 5 rewrite where it completely changes the course of the game (by adding this rather... special Motive, yk what to expect from the title alone),and it's also saiou, which I'm a big softie for. I'm pretty sure it was one of the first Danganronpa fanfictions I had read when I entered the fandom a couple of months back (?) It's filled with angst and the way lunarleonardo handled saiou's relationship made me feel deeply for these two. I would pay reaaally close attention to the warnings at the start of each chapter thoought, as it gets really bad at some points, but promise there's a happy ending!

I'd Trade My Life for Yours by grayimperia is definitely a must-read on the dr fandom (in my must humble opinion haha), like there's always this one fanfiction everyone has read or should read it within a fandom, just like with Amalgamate by DoctorHaifisch, and these two are definitely the v3 fanfictions! They're both wonderful pieces of fiction that delivered amazing new insights on the cast, and put together some really cool scenarios that are just as good as what canon gave us. I feel like I'm reading a script directly from a Danganronpa Game, because the characterization of each of the characters and their dialogues are on point, awesome stuff that I'm sure many have already read, but I couldn't not put them

finally (because this is getting really long, sorry) Reaching by kokichiouma is my personal favourite timeloop fic! I'm a big fan of the character exploration for Kokichi that the author made through this fic, and his relationship with Shuichi is just *cheffs kiss*, very high quiality fic! And a bit underrated too, it deserves so much more praise

..... Phew! That was a looot of yapping, my bad! Thanks for the ask btw <3

[demonlordclayman]

Chapter 19 Thoughts

Firstly, I was so delighted to see that Clayman confided in his friends. It does make some sense though - he needed people to understand why they were all asleep suddenly. Well, Eva at least. It does sound like he's keeping it a secret from the Five Fingers. I wonder how he explained that away? Well, I guess they just have to listen and accept things sometimes, in any case.

I was also wondering when Rain would show up and the answer is NOW! It makes sense to see that the Hero is so powerful that Rain easily recognizes that she's stronger than Rain is, but it still surprised me for some reason! But then again, Rain is pretty easy going (Clayman is going to have quite the Rain shaped headache soon). ALSO THE HERO BEING ABLE TO PUT EVERYONE TO SLEEP IN THE ENTIRE CASTLE IS...SO MUCH...

This is the most incredible Clayman expression I've ever seen in my life. I made it one of my accounts pfps because. Truly. Beautiful.

I was also happy to see Laplace, and happy that his appearing without warning is so normal that Clayman doesn't even question it and accepts it at face value. Unlike Rain, who he questions immediately.

Anyway, the explanations and discussion in this chapter were good, but I think the most exciting thing was that we're going to the Engrassia auction next chapter! I am very excited about this because it sounded like Clayman himself was planning to go.

I've been curious about whether Clayman goes into human civilization and if so how he does that (I mean, besides "he walks"), especially since we do see him in a human city in the flashback of his first meeting with Yuuki. He was just wandering around casually in his normal Demon Lord outfit...that being said, one explanation for that is that he was expecting to meet Yuuki, even if he didn't know what he looked like. It still strikes me as supremely odd though. And it didn't seem like he was expecting to meet someone...? or if he did, he didn't know much about them at all since the whole Kazalim thing was a surprise.

Anyway, I digress. My point is, it seems like it would be very unusual and also terrifying (from a human perspective) for Demon Lords to regularly venture into human society. So I guess I'm curious if Clayman will go as himself or if he'd disguise himself...but tbh I don't think he's the type to use a disguise, he's much too proud. So in that case, how are people going to react to him? I'm very curious about that. Humans seem to feel Demon Lords are Very Evil Always so like...I can't imagine anyone will be happy, though maybe unable to do much about it since they're afraid. I think that will be very interesting to see.

Furthermore, the prospect of getting excellent magic items is very exciting too!!! That could make a huge difference in the power of both Clayman and his subordinates. I'm trying to think offhand if there were any magic items Rimuru gained that Clayman could potentially get instead, but I think most of Rimuru's came from Kurobe, so I don't think that will be relevant...but even so, it's still got a lot of potential. And Clayman is loaded, though he may become destitute if he doesn't watch Rain- just kidding. Mostly.

So yes! I enjoyed this chapter but it's left me very very eager for the next one!

[autobot-ratchet]

MTMTE 14-16

MTMTE 14

oh boy time to start the arc that still to this day holds a spot in the top five pieces of media that have made me ugly cry lmfAO

Overlord's out here killing people before he's even born

wow Chromedome really just let his whole entire guard down while fucking around in Overlord's head, tells him his name first thing. Like. Why would you even allow him to know you're in there, let alone start telling him everything you're doing??? Like, yeah, yeah, I'm yelling at the horror movie protagonist on my screen to not go into the spooky cabin in the woods but wow. Could not be me lmfAO “I'm your fairy godmother don't worry about it”

still incredibly funny that Megatron's stupid bucket helmet is removable. Is that the case for literally anyone else??? Like sure some characters have removable visors and/or facemasks but like. The whole helm??? why

“Megatron's alive?” aaaaaaaand there it is. You just had to tell him shit........

“Why am I even telling you this?” “Because in here it's difficult to keep your thoughts to yourself.” I guess that's as good an excuse as any, he literally could not have stopped himself from telling him shit lmAO alright, fair. Then Chromedome's fault lies in doing this shit without any backup

god. If I remember correctly, this conversation that Chromedome erases from Prowl's mind ended up being a remnant of an arc that got scrapped, so it ultimately didn't lead to anything or get resolved, but. Man it sure is something lmAO I wish it could've ended up leading to something bc it's so good

So Drift was the only one who knew about Rodimus's involvement with the Overlord project. As far as Chromedome and Brainstorm knew, only they, Drift, and the duobots were involved. And Prowl of course, but he's not on the ship lmAO man, Drift really did everything he could to make this quest to find the knights work, he didn't even want to do any of this Overlord shit in the first place, but he took on practically leading the project so Rodimus could focus on the quest... Anything to find the knights........

MTMTE 15

oh Pipes........

love how the meta-bomb is so easy to write off as a one-off joke, especially considering the much more important shit that's about to go down, but it ends up being its own fucking arc way later

god I love how Ratchet gets a shot off on Overlord, right in the eye, get his ass

“Your faith, your sword, and your friend. We do this together.” grIPS THE ARMS OF MY CHAIR........

urgfhfdj the implication that Overlord pinned Drift's legs to the floor with his own swords and Drift ended up ripping them off and crawling his way over to make him stop hurting Ratchet........

oh get his ass Fort Max, you deserve it

oof, Rewind having to hear Drift and Chromedome talk openly about how they've been fucking around with Overlord the whole time... he's so shocked........

on the one hand, god the entire sequence of Chromedome ejecting Overlord's cell and blowing it up so Rewind would die before Overlord could kill him fucking ruins me but also I can't stop thinking about that post that was like “what if Rewind was winning in there”

I FORGOT ABOUT THE XES OVER EVERYONE WHO DIED IN THIS ISSUE FUCK........ lowkey thinking about danganronpa-style death portraits

MTMTE 16

ooh, all the past Magnuses that we don't yet know are different people and how they all bit it... I honestly always loved how MTMTE made Ultra Magnus a title and set of armor that many different people have worn. Like, for as much as I love Magnus in this comic, it's really Minimus specifically that I love lmAO I wonder if we'll ever see him in any Transformers media ever again

poor Tailgate going through his first huge loss, especially while everyone else is so used to things like this that he feels like he's the only one who's properly upset. I have been on both sides of this lmAO fuck

oh Chromedome is so not okay, god hsfdjkasl he's acting so normal that it is glaringly obvious that he is burning alive inside

and Rodimus is also not okay, oof, buddy, Rung, you gotta stop lmAO granted the assessment that Rodimus would've liked to be the hero isn't far-fetched, and it might even be partially true but. Something Tells Me that's not quite the case in this particular instance. He was actually being completely honest when he said he was angry because he failed the crew. He failed by ever giving in to Prowl and putting Overlord on the ship

ooouuohouUOUOUUUGGHGF BRAINSTORM CLUTCHING THE BREIFCASE DURING THE FUNERAL........ HE'S THINKING ABOUT IT................

“You might want to speak to Drift, though; I think he's got an urge to name names” yEAH HIS OWN... GOD.........

oh Chromedome... and the fact that Brainstorm has had to watch him wipe his memories out of grief over and over again gOD this issue is so good lmfAO I am in so much pain this rules

Brainstorm is right though, you can't try to make yourself forget lost loved ones, I can't tell you how many times I've tried to avoid thinking too hard about someone for up to a year, sometimes more than a year after I've lost them because I just can't handle how much it hurts. But that moment when you can recall happy memories without it feeling like a punch to the gut anymore? With it making you feel happy, even, for ever having met them in the first place? Would not trade that for anything. The pain is just. Unfortunately a necessary part of the path to getting there, there's just no avoiding it

urghgfh and there goes Drift taking the fall for the whole Overlord project. He really believes in the quest to find the knights more than anything, he's willing to take as many hits as he has to to keep Rodimus on the path to finding them... as long as it makes Cybertron a better place, it doesn't matter what happens to him........

like, I've always seen people talk about Drift putting up with all of Rodimus's bs just because he admires him, and I'm not gonna deny that he does, he definitely thinks Rodimus is a pretty cool guy, but so much more than that, his vision told him that Rodimus was going to find the Knights of Cybertron and that they were going to restore the planet and make things better than they've ever been. More than ANYTHING, Drift has done everything he has done not because he admires Rodimus too much to say no to him, but because he truly believes Rodimus is integral to the restoration of Cybertron. He believes that succeeding in this quest will make it so that no one on Cybertron will ever have to go through anything he's gone through ever again. That's what it's always been about for him, even from the beginning, even for Deadlock. Aaaaa I gotta stop or I'll do an entire character analysis on Drift right here and I gotta save that for when I read the miniseries lmAO

oh fuck it's time for Rewind's final message oh lord oh jesus here we go

gooooOOOOD THE PART SHOWING DRIFT'S EXILE... RATCHET BEING THE ONLY ONE TO BE KIND TO HIM IN THAT MOMENT, EVEN IN FRONT OF ALL THE OTHERS... THIS SPECIFIC PART OF REWIND'S MESSAGE PLAYING OVER THIS SPECIFIC MOMENT AAAUUUGH FUCK

“You deserve to be happy... You're a better person now- stubborn and frustrating but wonderful!” this bit is fucking laser-etched into my brain forever it's so fucking perfect, this part is everything

dfshkgdfk fuck... for a second I actually deluded myself into thinking I wouldn't cry at the part of the message where Rewind tells Chromedome he loves him and Chromedome puts the needles away lmfAO even after all this time, it still hits just as hard

ah right, then we're hit with “by the way Tailgate's dying” lmfAO I vividly remember not taking this well during my first readthrough, Tailgate and Rewind were my favorites and I was not ready to lose them both one right after the other

[tortranslates]

UNDEAD Climax Event: Split Paths - The Admired Figure and Flashbacks: Otogari Adonis Mini-talks

Pre-TL Note: Thank you for your patience! I thought Adonis's mini-talks were really cute, so they were a pleasure to translate. I hope you enjoy them!

Mini-talk 1 (Conveying Feelings through Writing):

Adonis: Hm…The documents you make are always so easy to understand. Thanks for letting me read them. You have a nice writing style. I can feel your consideration for the person reading it in every word. I wish I could prepare something like this too, but I wonder if I’ve got what it takes.

→I think you’re just not used to it.

Adonis: You think so? Then, maybe I’ll be able to improve someday if I take the chance to write every day. I’ve gotten used to writing short messages, so from now on I’ll try to be more conscious of writing longer ones.

→Would you like some advice?

Adonis: Are you going to help me? I think if you taught me, I could improve quickly. Fufu. If you ever need my help, you can always call on me. [1]

→Whom you want to show it to is important.

Adonis: You mean I should think about the person who’s reading it? In your case, I think that feeling really shines through. I don’t think I’ve considered that until now. I’ll try to be more aware of it from now on.

Mini-talk 2 (Conveying Feelings through Writing):

Adonis: That reminds me, I have something I want to ask you. There’s something in the documents I don’t understand. There’s a word in this sentence that I’ve never seen before. What does it mean? Hm? Ahh, it was just a kanji typo, huh? Sorry about that, I didn’t notice.

→You pay really close attention, huh?

Adonis: I know. I’m reading every detail to make sure I don’t miss anything. I’m the one who’s in trouble if something happens, after all. Since it causes problems for the people around me if I miss anything, I have to be extra careful with work-related documents.

→I didn’t notice it either.

Adonis: So anyone can make a mistake like this, huh? I’m glad I was able to notice it. I guess it’s something that someone has to show you first in order to get it. I’d like you to tell me when I make mistakes, too.

→Please let me know if there are any other mistakes.

Adonis: Since you were so careful with every page, I think it’s okay. You should have more faith in yourself. Your work really is incredible, I promise.

Mini-talk 3 (Conveying Feelings through Writing):

Adonis: Ahh, I get it now. I’ll share these with the other members of UNDEAD. I’m grateful you took the time to bring me these even though you’re so busy. Speaking of which, if any of us have any questions, can we reach out to you on Hold-Hands?

→Sure, go ahead!

Adonis: Alright, we’ll do that. You can reply whenever you have time. I’d appreciate it if you would continue to look after me.

→You can ask the next time we meet up, too.

Adonis: Should we do that then? Although, I don’t know when we’ll be able to get together again…No, I don’t have anything to back this up, but we should be able to meet up again soon. I can’t wait.

→If you ask me to, I’ll come again.

Adonis: Really? I feel bad for making you come all the way to the office. I think I should come to you next time. I’ll go anywhere, so let me know if you know a good place for us to meet.

Mini-talk 4 (Colored Paper Memento [2]):

Adonis: It looks like we still have a little while before the car will be here. It’s nice that we can do a lot of different things as HELLSING, [3] but not being able to see the senpai really does make me feel lonely. Producer, do you know how they’re doing?

→They’re doing well.

Adonis: You saw them a week ago? I see, that’s goo to hear. Oogami didn’t say anything, but he looked like he wanted to know too. This is the best solution for the situation, but..I think that the first order of business is doing our part properly.

→Why don’t you reach out to them?

Adonis: Actually, I sent Hakaze-senpai a message, but he hasn’t answered. Normally he would answer right away, but maybe I just didn’t see it…? I hope I can reach him…

→What do you think?

Adonis: I’m sure they’re fine, but I can’t help but worry. If you have the chance to see them, let me know how they’re doing.

Mini-talk 5 (Colored Paper Memento):

Adonis: That reminds me, I found this colored paper while I was cleaning my room earlier. I wanted to show it to you, so I took a picture. Here, take a look. Fufu, Kanzaki really has amazing handwriting. His personality really shines through in his letters. His signature is different now, but I think it has a certain charm to it.

→Where did you get that?

Adonis: Ahh, I asked Kanzaki to write this for me. Look, it’s clearly marked as “to Adonis-kun," right?

→The letters sure are pretty.

Adonis: Fufu, I used to think Kanzaki was a samurai…He signed it for me then. I remember going around and bragging about it to everyone in my home country.

→When did he write it?

Adonis: He wrote it for me when I first came to Japan. We got some colored paper at a nearby convenience store, and he signed it for me. It’s a memento of when Kanzaki and I became friends.

Mini-talk 6 (Colored Paper Memento):

Adonis: Anyways, I’ve been filming all day, so now I’m hungry…Have you eaten dinner yet? If you haven’t, do you want to go to the company cafeteria together? It’s just about time for dinner and Oogami should be done with work right around now, so let’s invite him along.

→Today’s menu should be a grilled meat set.

Adonis: Oh, really? Meat really is the best when you’re worn out. Hopefully it isn’t sold out…I hope the car gets here soon.

→If you insist…

Adonis: There’s somewhere Oogami wants to go? In that case, going there is fine too. Let’s send him a message.

→Now that you mention it…

Adonis: You have a coupon for a restaurant that’s close by? Can I use it? I don’t usually go there, but…Let’s give it a shot.

TL Notes:

[1] lit. “if my help is ever necessary instead, I’m willing to help whenever”

[2] lit. "colored paper of memories." It refers to a kind of paper usually used for painting, drawing, and autographs. If you google 色紙 or shikishi, some examples will come up. The literal translation is "colored paper," but I don't think we have a proper term for this in English.

[3] lit. “as HELLSING, the breadth of the activities we can do is wide”

[anythingbutmynamebro]

Thoughts about our boy Tech

I don’t normally post on tumblr but my mind has been in a total chaos and I need to put my thoughts into words, or at least try. I’m sorry if it’s all over the place. And probably pretty long.

This is day 4 of coping with Tech’s supposed death. I can’t for one second believe that he is actually gone, and I don’t think it’s just denial.

We saw times and times again that Tech is one hell of a soldier, not only when it comes to his exceptional mind but also in many other areas, I mean this man can withstand a broken femur and keep fighting no problem.

He is able to adapt to situations, he’s resourceful, he has everything calculated and well thought out. Don’t tell me that Tech didn’t have a plan already in his head the second he shot that railcar and started to fall. Also the fact that we see him turn around, I would assume that he’d keep falling facing up. I actually watched an Arcane episode today where a kid fell down and at no point did he turn to face the ground. That tells me that Tech did that deliberately because he had a plan to at least try to get out of there alive.

Then I have to mention the obvious, this is Star Wars, people have survived worse. Also, no body, no death. I just feel like this doesn’t do him justice. You want to tell us that he can fight when he’s badly hurt, he can win a race he has never participated in before, he’s unbelievably intelligent but then he just accepts his fate and falls to death without putting up a fight? That’s not the Tech we know. Add the fact that we don’t see what’s underneath the clouds, we don’t see him hit the ground.

Then the scene with Hemlock where he throws Hunter Tech’s goggles. They had no blood or stains on them. I know this is an animated show but we saw blood in episode 12, and seeing Hemlock with the goggles of someone who we maybe saw die moments ago is pretty grim in and of itself for a show like that. If it’s a tactic to manipulate them, then that’s bad but it’s Hemlock we’re talking about. But if this is the writers actually throwing Tech’s goggles to our faces while he’s actually dead, that to me is just beyond cruel.

And let’s not forget Tech’s development this season. So many people have fallen in love with him if they weren’t already. Was that just a way to get a super emotional reaction from the fans? Because if that’s the case, that feels like a betrayal. They showed us how incredible he is, he represents a community of people and then they rip him away?

I just feel like there’s so many details that point to him being able to make it out alive. If despite all of that it turns out that he actually didn’t survive, it’ll be such a waste of his character and it will make me genuinely angry. His sacrifice didn’t help whatsoever, unlike for example Kanan’s. The Empire still got Omega, Crosshair is still unconscious on Mount Tantiss, it literally solved nothing. And the way I see it, if they wanted to really kill him off, he deserved something..just better. A death we’re not left wondering about, a death that doesn’t undermine how capable he is..because let’s face it, if anyone can survive this kind of fall, it’s Tech. Also, remember that racing episode where Wrecker said he thought he was a goner and Omega was surprised he won and Tech said “You sound surprised”? This just looks like another situation that seems lost but isn’t.

I’m just sad, I still cry to this day. If we at least knew that he was dead and that was it you know..we would mourn like we all are but we could eventually move on. This way we will keep our hopes up until someone officialy says that he’s gone or until season 3 comes out and it will be somehow discussed there. For me the bad batch was, like for many others, my comfort show with Crosshair and Tech being my absolute favorite characters in Star Wars but this season’s finale just left such a hole in my heart..it hurts. But I know I’m not alone in this.

I will keep on hoping that we’ll see Tech again, and I don’t care if people say that he should stay dead. No, he shouldn’t. He can’t..