#[ I really don't want to discuss this a lot ]

[callsign-fox]

Dance with Me? - Bob/Robert Reynolds

Pairing: Bob/Robert Reynolds/Sentry x Fem!Reader/Superhero

Super fluffy, no warnings xo

I knew this movie would get me to write again, and I haven't even seen it yet! Don't worry, I am seeing it tomorrow ;)

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Bucky’s apartment wasn’t home—but it was the closest thing to it. Nestled in a secured corner of Brooklyn, reinforced by his new position as a Congressman, it was a safe haven. A quiet place to hide. It was where Y/N had been laying low ever since she’d turned into a massive, flaming Phoenix above Manhattan—an event that had sent the world into a panic. The headlines hadn’t stopped. Neither had the government’s search.

The Phoenix inside her was too new. Too wild. Too dangerous. So, she stayed hidden. Waiting. Healing.

But that quiet broke the moment the Thunderbolts burst through Bucky’s door, weapons holstered but tension palpable—and someone new in their midst.

Something inside her shifted.

Light moved over her skin like a breeze—curious, tingling, alive. She felt it before she even saw him. From her place curled on the couch, Y/N lifted her head, gaze narrowing on the stranger. Her voice was calm, but her instincts were alert.

“Who's your new friend?”

“This is Bob,” Bucky replied casually, already heading toward the kitchen like this was just another Tuesday.

But Bob… wasn’t just another face.

Y/N’s eyes lingered longer than they should have. She could feel it—that coiled, restrained power humming beneath his skin. But deeper than that was something raw. Broken. Familiar.

He met her gaze, but didn’t smile.

She wondered if he felt her too.

Rising from the couch, Y/N moved a step closer, her voice soft. “He’s not like the rest of you.”

“No,” Yelena cut in, her eyes sharp. “Is this where you’ve been hiding the past few months?”

“Maybe,” Y/N answered, a sly grin tugging at her lips as she picked up her empty mug and headed to the kitchen.

“You’re a terrible government official,” Yelena called after Bucky. “Hiding a nuclear-level threat under your own roof. Cute.”

“I’m not a threat,” Y/N muttered, rolling her eyes.

Yelena mumbled something under her breath that Y/N chose to ignore. Bob quietly slipped into one of the armchairs while Yelena turned to the group.

“We’ve got things to discuss. Mind babysitting, Phoenix?”

“I don’t need a babysitter,” Bob said, barely louder than a breath. But even he didn’t sound convinced.

Y/N moved back into the living room, her fingers trailing along the back of the couch as she sat, perching at its edge. Yelena took the hint and filed out, Bucky following her with a last glance.

“You two don’t get into any trouble,” he said before the door clicked shut behind him.

Silence settled over the apartment like dust in sunlight.

Y/N rose slowly, her bare feet brushing over the cool hardwood floor. She could feel him watching her—his presence tugging at something inside her chest. It was strange. Electric. Right.

“You don’t talk much,” she said quietly.

Bob’s voice was rough, but not unfriendly. “Not a lot to say.”

She didn’t push. Instead, she turned to the bookshelf, flipping through the records until her fingers landed on something smooth and timeless—Sam Cooke. She dropped the needle, and the music filled the apartment like warmth spilling from an open window.

Turning to face him, she lifted a brow. “When’s the last time you smiled?”

He blinked. “I don’t really know.”

A small smile tugged at her lips. “Well… I don’t know you yet, Bob, but I have a feeling I can fix that.”

She held out her hand. He stared at it, confused.

“What?”

“Dance with me?”

A flicker of something crossed his face—surprise, maybe. Hope. He didn’t move, not at first.

“You want me to dance with you?”

“You heard me,” she teased, her grin growing. “A pretty girl is asking you to dance, you’re not going to turn her down, are you?”

He opened his mouth—maybe to argue, maybe to laugh—but no words came. Instead, he slipped his hand into hers and stood, slow and uncertain.

His hand was warm in hers. Solid. Real.

“One song,” she said softly. “No brooding. No worrying. Just… be human with me. Just for a moment.”

She guided him in, gently placing his hand on her waist, her other hand resting against his chest. It had been years since someone touched him like that—like he wasn’t dangerous. Like he wasn’t broken.

She moved first—swaying slowly, fluid and graceful. Bob was stiff at first, clumsy and hesitant, but she didn’t care. She wasn’t watching his feet.

She was watching his face.

“What are you, anyway?” she asked, her voice soft but steady.

His eyes narrowed, shadows flickering behind them. “Something powerful. Too powerful.”

She studied him for a beat, then nodded with a hint of a smirk. “Sounds like you’d give me a run for my money.”

He gave a small shrug, unreadable. “Maybe.”

But he didn’t look away, his eyes locked on hers.

“You’re allowed to let go sometimes you know,” she whispered, her breath brushing against his cheek. “I do.”

His eyes met hers, flickering with something fragile. “What happens if I let go… and everything falls apart?”

She tilted her head, inching closer. “Then we dance in the ashes.”

Something in him unraveled.

His shoulders dropped, his arm relaxed against her waist—and then, for the first time in what might’ve been forever, he smiled.

Y/N’s heart skipped, and she beamed back at him.

“There it is,” she said. “And it’s even more beautiful than I imagined.”

His smile lingered, shy and uncertain, but real. Y/N felt it again—like a pull deep in her chest, a thread tying her to him. It wasn’t just the dance or the song. It was him. The quiet storm beneath his surface. The sense that somehow, even though they'd just met, he wasn’t a stranger.

Their movements slowed until they were barely swaying, just standing in each other’s space. Close. Breath mingling.

Her hand slid up from his chest to rest just over his heart. “That smile looks good on you.”

Bob looked down at her, his brow furrowed like he was trying to solve a rather difficult puzzle. “You feel… familiar,” he murmured, his voice soft and reverent, like he was afraid of breaking whatever moment they’d stumbled into. 

Y/N’s breath caught in her throat. “I was thinking the same thing.”

The air between them shifted—charged, magnetic. Her eyes flicked to his lips just as he leaned the smallest bit closer. His hand at her waist tightened, just slightly, anchoring them in that fragile, suspended second.

It felt like the world had gone still, like the Phoenix inside her was holding its breath.

Then—

Click.

The front door swung open.

“You leave them alone for five minutes,” Bucky’s voice filled the room, too casual and far too loud, “and they throw a damn prom.”

Y/N took a sharp step back, cheeks flushed, pretending she hadn’t just been about to kiss a man she’d known for less than an hour.

Bob ran a hand through his hair and turned away, the moment shattered like glass underfoot.

Bucky blinked, then narrowed his eyes. “Am I interrupting something?”

“Nope,” Y/N said, voice an octave too high as she reached to turn off the record player. “Just... entertaining your guest.”

Bob sat back down without a word, his eyes carefully avoiding hers now, like if he looked again, he’d lean right back in.

Bucky raised an eyebrow but didn’t push. “Right. Well. We’ve got updates. Let’s all have a chat, shall we?”

Y/N nodded, but as she brushed past Bob on her way to the kitchen, her fingers grazed his—and just for a second, she felt that spark again. That pull.

Whatever this was between them—it wasn’t done yet.

[notepadofalexandria]

Viable embryos outside of a womb, outside of a freezer.... Are just dead tissue.

I'm sorry that you think this is clever. But the trolley problem you're trying to create as a gotcha requires me to accept a magic trolley that doesn't exist. It is a useful mental exercise, especially if you actually wanted to engage in productive discussion or examine your beliefs critically.

Unfortunately, when you start by hand waving "viable embryos being hand carried without appropriate storage, plans for preservation, or opportunity to implant in a womb" as equal to "implanted healthy fetuses" you're making a mistake so large it almost has to be intentional.

Especially since the idea of TRIAGE has been around for multiple lifetimes. Human life is precious, and in a crisis we prioritize the most viable patients over those with minimal odds of survival. How many of the people you posed this example to were capable of performing surgical IVF procedures? How many had access to the facilities and equipment necessary to do anything with those 1000 embryos besides watch them thaw and rot? Or did most of them make the easy realization that they wouldn't be saving anything by carrying this 'frozen container' (The term you're looking for is Cryopreservation, and in reality those storage units weigh a LOT more than you can carry) out of a building with no idea what step 2 might even be?

"You easily chose to save the slice of fully baked and frosted cake, instead of the giant unmovable pile of flour, eggs, sugar, and butter that could potentially be used to make a hundred cakes by someone with access to skills and equipment you don't have! Clearly you don't think cake batter is a baked good!" -- not really the rhetorical own you think it is.

The worst part; there's a great opportunity here to actually understand the nuance... which you've tossed aside in favor of feeling smug on the internet.

Don't worry. I've done it too. Some day, I hope you come back to this example (or another) and it helps you realize how little any one person actually understands about others.

(source)

Bonus:

[mamawasatesttube]

people who go into superhero comics (the "heroes don't kill" genre, where (admittedly, often very flawed) discussion of the morality of taking a life and themes of lawfulness, vigilanteism, and redemption are like the entire foundations of the genre) and then get pissy about how they want edgier protagonists who kill their enemies. bro just go watch Generic Action Blockbuster #74821384

[thedreamflarealchemist]

Pluto, coins, and The Ferryman.

So I haven't really seen any posts talking about this (if you've seen any, please share them with me!), but I recently came up with a sort of theory? Really just a collection of observations I wanted to talk about.

(There will be a part 2 in the reblogs because I won't be able to fit all the screenshots I want on mobile.)

After reading Nevermore, I got really hung up on the repeated theme of coins/the coin that kept being brought up.

We see it here for the first time and, while Duke is the one to produce it and show off a trick with it, we immediately see Pluto associated with it and snatching it at the end of Duke's trick.

After that, we don't see the coin until it's brought up again while Pluto and company are trying to locate Duke. There seems to be a lot of relevance placed on the coin here. They spend an entire conversation discussing it and while I've seen a few people talking about the coin in relation to the different time periods for Pluto, Duke, and Eulalie, I've noticed that the episode seems to place a lot of focus on the coin specifically. We spend a large piece of the episode talking about/showing the coin, and they make a point to show Eulalie giving it back to Pluto at the end of their discussion.

Now other than this, there are a couple of other notable times the coin/coins are brought up, and they're nearly always in association with Pluto in some way.

These last two screen shots are just conjecture on my end, but Duke doesn't appear to have any other pockets here. I assume, after teasing Pluto about having his coin, he must have put the coin back into Pluto’s jacket pocket and most likely left it there when it was returned to Pluto in later episodes. Theoretically, Pluto still has the coin in his pocket, but either way, it's not really relevant to the rest of the theory.

Now, the next time coins are referenced, it's during Eulalie's lesson on stories of pilgrimages to the afterlife. I'm going to talk about the boats being mentioned in the reblog, BUT here Eulalie talks about the Greeks and their practices/beliefs for souls after death. You might be thinking "well this has nothing to do with Pluto, just coins," but wait!

Here he appears again! Immediately after coins were brought up, Pluto interjected into the conversation. We're going to dive into what Pluto says in this screenshot and his next words in the reblog, so stay with me, but I want to focus specifically on what Berenice says here. She says, "What good are coins when you're dead?" I feel like this is a specific piece of foreshadowing. Coins seem to be very relevant, and she's certainly asking the right question. Okay, let's discuss why coins might be important when you're dead...

[batmanisagatewaydrug]

Hey. I want to say Thanks for all the work you do here. My question is nothing biological, it's just something that spawned from a memory about my high school sex ed.

For some context, I went to a private evangelist high school in a semi-well off neighborhood in Buenos Aires. I had scholarship and some subsides that allowed me to go there as a middle class kid. So I did get Sex Ed that I can say honestly was fine.

Like, they didn't tell us to just don't have sex. we had one talk every two months from 3rd year onwards taught by a biology teacher and maybe some TA that got called in as aide if something needed to be demonstrated.

But every now and then we also has a "social sex Ed" class. Usually taught by one of the counselors. The gist was the guy coming in and telling us about interpersonal relantionships. We had a unit on like domestic violence and one on abusive relantionships from what I recall.

So my question is if that's something that exists in the Sex Ed space? Like, I'm on board with teaching teens those stuff a 100%. It's undeniable a good resource. But Idk if that's something that's standard practice or my school was just doing that

hi, thank you for sharing! I'm glad to hear that you had access to so much information :)

what's typical of sex ed varies enormously from place to place; in some places, you're lucky if the teachers are allowed to acknowledge that protected sex exists at all instead of insisting on abstinence until marriage. personally I think that sex education absolutely should include discussions about safely navigating intimate relationships, because leaving that out makes sex seem like something that happens in a void, like it has nothing to do with any other kinds of human interactions, which doesn't improve anyone's communication. a lot of people come away from sex ed with the impression that they're supposed to just Know What To Do instinctively if and when the opportunity to have partnered sex arises, which couldn't be further from the truth and can make early sexual experiences much more stressful and scary than they need to be.

most of the in-person teaching I do is with younger folks, around the aged of 10-12. and we absolutely talk about consent and boundary-setting in addition to basic mechanics of puberty and pregnancy, because that's a really important part of the equation. teaching the kids how a sperm meets an egg is useless if we don't also teach them how to decide if they personally feel ready for sexual intimacy and how to talk that through with a potential partner, as well as how to say no if they find themselves in situations where they're being pressure to do something that they don't want.

I had a conversation once with the father of one of my students - nice guy, really excited for his kiddo to receive a thorough sex education - who told me with very real regret that his high school offered very thorough details on the physical mechanics of sex and contraception but didn't offer students any guidance on how to actually navigate consent with partners. while he never experienced any pregnancy scares of STIs as a teen, he said he was sure that he was nevertheless "not a very good partner" because while he knew about using condoms, he never learned how to actually talk through his feelings with the girls he dated. it seemed really obvious, to me that, having learned a lot since his teen years, he was carrying a lot of remorse for the ways he might have unintentionally hurt his teenage girlfriends, and was eager for his own child to learn the tools to avoid falling into the same behavior.

part of the curriculum is learning to spot inappropriate behavior and potential predation and how to seek help in those scenarios. when learning about sex, especially for young people, I do think it's genuinely really important to model positive, consensual interactions so that there's a clear point of comparison against situations that are unsafe. but in my class also talk about situations where there are questions of consent but no one clearly in the wrong. what if you friend wants to try kissing and you don't know what to say? what if someone you like is getting too touchy and you want them to stop? if you have a crush on a friend but they don't reciprocate, how should you act towards them after that? all of those are important scenarios to talk about, and help the kids build their skills of conflict resolution and communication in all areas of their lives.

so, the short answer is that it's absolutely not a universal practice, but I really wish it was because it would do a tremendous amount of good.

[quailavenuesystem]

This was my favorite post I've read in a hot minute so here's some notable moments from being a minor who's gone through a lot of damn procedures/surgeries:

• every surgery that I've gone under anesthesia for I've had the anesthesia people making cow jokes. I do not remember if I bring up the cows but it happens every time. Super chill tho, especially because my first procedure was when I was ten so it's a good way to prevent panic attacks

• when I had to get an MRI for my eyes they let me watch Hercules the entire time and the dude would just keep turning up the volume like one decibel at a time. And then had a 15 minute long discussion with me after the MRI about the movie and how inaccurate it was to Greek mythology.

• "don't worry, you'll still be able to get pregnant" "that's great but I am 12 years old. I'm not thinking about babies I want this cyst out of me. Please. Take out the whole uterus if you want, just make it stop." General concern from every single adult in the room (in my defense I was on so much of the silly medication because the pain was so bad I was fully ready to just throw myself out a window)

• a nurse once started chanting "SHOTS! SHOTS! SHOTS! SHOTS!" because I had to drink some nasty liquid before a completely different procedure. It helped a lot. I hope she's making really good money.

• the very important experience of coming off anesthesia and "EAT THIS GRAM CRACKER" bitch I woke up five-ten minutes ago give a man a second please

• asking the women who had to do a ultrasound for my periods "so I still have my left ovary, right?" As a joke and then "well I can't tell you anything about this procedure for certain-" DO I NO LONGER HAVE A LEFT OVARY??? DID IT DISINTEGRATE??? ANSWER ME WTF WAS THAT ANSWER???

ranking the best things I have heard surgeons say mid-surgery:

1. "Five second rule!" while scrubbed, after dropping a sterile scalpel on the floor (no they did NOT pick it up again but I swear everyone's buttholes puckered)

2. (spoken during the closing of a particularly long and difficult case) "Nurse - my tunes." :heavy metal starts blasting:

3. Gently to a fretful patient, pre-anaesthesia: "It's going to be okay. I promise, I've dealt with worse." As soon as the patient is unconscious: "This is literally the worst thing I've ever seen."

4. [okay this one was a med student] "Wowwww, that's so gross!!" Reg: "Please remember that [patient] is awake for this procedure." Student to patient: "Oh my god. I am so sorry, that was really unprofessional - " Patient, cheerfully, also engrossed with what's happening inside them on the screen: "Nah - it's, like, super gross, right?"

5. [another procedure where the patient couldn't be put under GA] Patient: *starts singing country roads midway through the procedure* Surgeon: *shrugs and joins in with surprisingly good harmony*

[dailyaoyagi]

THIS IS NOT SHIP RELATED, I DON'T SHIP THESE TWO AT ALL

Discussing Toya and Tsukasa's relationship because so many people (on both sides) misinterpret it.

I feel like a lot of people forget why these two have the relationship they do and why it blossomed. At the time of both of them meeting as kids neither one was in a really good place, Tsukasa was constantly worrying about Saki (which I should clarify isn't Saki's fault at all) and Toya was being abused by his dad, doing nothing but playing piano nonstop. But despite this they were able to give each other what they needed, Tsukasa needed someone he could make happy to give him the assurance he needed that he could make Saki smile and Toya needed familial support from someone since his dad was abusing him, his brothers weren't there for him at all and his mom was enabling his dad. In addition to this Tsukasa unknowingly began treating Toya the same way he did Saki, she was still in the hospital and his big brother instincts had to go somewhere and Toya was perfect for it. He was one of the only good parts of Toya's childhood and his emotional support, while also giving Toya some good memories of classical music he could look back on. That's why I'm personally not a fan of the "Tsukasa adopts the entire cast" hcs, if you have them it's fine but it ignores why Tsukasa and Toya have the bond they do and the circumstances that led to them seeing each other as siblings.

Then we have Tsukasa quite litterally being Toya's savior. It was Tsukasa that gave Toya the strength to run away from his abusive home and pursue what he wanted to do. Without Tsukasa Toya would've stayed his dad's puppet who blindly followed his orders, but Tsukasa kept it from happening with only a few words. This led to their bond deepening and Tsukasa continued to stay by Toya's side as everything was going down with his family. Even after said family drama was resolved Tsukasa continued to look after Toya and continues to treat him as sibling and Toya continues to be eternally grateful towards him for making his bad childhood a little bit better and giving him the push he needed to run away.

TLDR: These two have a gorgeous relationship regardless of the discourse and I wish more people would acknowledge it. Take a cute pic of them on the way out.

[hotchsprncess]

Hi! Can I please request a Hotch fic with a chubby BAU!reader? Where they’re on a case and the lead detective isn’t really taking reader seriously and says/mentions something backhanded about reader’s appearance and Aaron just happens to overhear it and defends her 🤭

Then she acts like it didn’t really bother her but Aaron can just tell something’s up, could end in smut (either hotel room or when they’re back home) or just good old fluff! you can throw in some daddy kink in there if you want 🙂‍↕️

Also sorry if this is too long of a request, please don’t feel obligated to respond to this!!

.ᐟ MDNI .ᐟ

OMG thank you so much for this amazing idea 🤭 the way i'm beyond excited to write this is unreal!!!! hope you enjoy °⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ p.s: there is a lot of plot/build up in this fic, so it may take a while to get to the smut but i promise it's there :p

i like you, have a cupcake ⊹ aaron hotchner

ᝰ summary : after being disrespected by the lead detective in new york, hotch can tell that it's hit close to home. once he decides to check on you back at the hotel, there's no telling what he'll do to make you feel better.

ᝰ warnings : fem chubby/plus size bau!reader, discussion of case/unsub, reader being undermined/body shamed, discussion of insecurity/body image, use of y/l/n (twice), co-workers to lovers (ish, asked on a date), sub!reader, softdom!aaron, some nipple play, clit smacks (literally 2), oral f receiving (he's a munch idc), daddy kink, praise (maybe a tad of degradation), dirty talk, p in v, multiple orgasms, creampie, fluffy ending

you loved new york city, but not when you were here on a case. 3 days in felt like 5 already, and everyone was getting impatient. you all sat around the table, with the exception of hotch standing at the evidence board, trying to build a stronger profile.

"it's just so elusive, i don't get why the mo is going back and forth between strangulation, stabbing, and shooting" jj wonders out loud, the shuffling sound of flipping through photos filling the room.

"are we looking at a team here? i mean, there's 3 distinct mos. maybe they're taking turns" rossi chimes in, everyone nodding along to what he says.

"the victimology is all over the map though" reid gestures to the evidence board, "the 2 stabbings were young white females, the 1 shooting was a middle-aged asian male, and the 3 strangulations were all single women of varying races, aged 50-55 who lived alone. it doesn't correlate with a team who would likely be going after the same demographic"

"and we're still sure this is the same guy?" lead detective thomas calls out from the corner of the room, sipping coffee out of his nypd mug.

"a penny was left at each scene in the victim's hand. it might seem coincidental, but the chances of all of these individuals holding a single penny while they were attacked is under 0.1%. so yes, it's the same unsub" reid provides a statistic as he usually does, causing the gears to turn in your head.

"what if it's one person with dissociative identity disorder? like you said, the victimology doesn't make sense for a team, but for someone with did an alter is a completely different person with different experiences, motives, preferences, etcetera. the signature of the penny remains the same, so maybe that's motivated by the host personality. they all share a reason to kill, but that's the extent of the similarities" you figure that even though someone may see it as far fetched, it's worth proposing.

"seriously? first of all, i doubt that even exists, let alone that this guy has it. like agent rossi said, a team seems more accurate" detective thomas counters your theory, making you curl in on yourself a bit.

"actually, what agent y/l/n said is very applicable to this case and might just help us solve it. let's deliver the updated profile" hotch responds, shutting up detective thomas as the team starts to head out of the conference room.

"great work" he whispers to you as you pass by him, a gentle blush filling your cheeks. praise from your boss was always welcomed, not only because he defended your theory but also because you maybe had a little crush on him.

later that day around 7pm, one of the nypd officers brought in treats that his wife had made. there were cookies, cupcakes, brownies, and even a few muffins. everyone dug in as you waited until the crowd dissipated to go have your pick. your stomach rumbled as you approached the counter, filling your cup with coffee as you scanned the beautiful desserts. you felt the presence of someone beside you, looking to see that it was detective thomas. you felt a little anxious around him, but nonetheless hoped to keep the peace with some small talk.

"these all look great, huh?" you propose, stirring some sugar into your coffee.

"very..." you notice his eyes scan you from your peripheral, "not sure you need any of them though"

you'd had your fair share of body shaming throughout the years, but that didn't mean it hurt any less. it was one thing that detective thomas already undermined you and your profiling skills, but he also blatantly body shamed you to your face as if he had no cares in the world. it made you sink further into yourself, unsure of what to say and also not wanting to cause a scene. you were in the fbi and you had the reputation of the bau to uphold, you couldn't afford to let him have it despite desperately wanting to put him in his place. though, you didn't have the chance to react anyways because hotch was one step ahead of you.

"that was extremely unprofessional and rude of you, detective. my team and i, including agent y/l/n, are here out of our own free will. if you can't show her respect i will not hesitate to walk out of here with my team and leave you to your own devices. am i clear?" his tone is authoritative and his threat very serious. hotch didn't mess around.

"uh... yeah. crystal" detective thomas is visibly awkward after hotch's scolding. good.

"are you going to apologize to her or do i need to teach you how to do that too?" you wanted to chuckle at hotch's response but decided to hold it in for everyone's sake.

"i'm sorry, agent. won't happen again"

all you do is nod in response, walking away from the coffee counter and retreating back into the conference room. another rumble of your stomach reminded you just how hungry you were, but the thought of stuffing your face with a cupcake after that made your appetite dissolve. you felt out of place, like everyone heard what he said and was analyzing your appearance. you knew that wasn't the case, but that's exactly how it felt. the feeling was ultimately unwelcomed.

after 5 more hours of work and another victim, the team decided to call it a night. with your input of did the profile of the unsub was getting stronger and connecting the victims became easier, lifting everyone's spirits a bit.

you bid your goodnights to the rest of the team as you exited the hotel elevator and made your way down the hall to your room. you decided a shower was necessary after the long day, humming as the warm water encapsulated you.

you avoided looking in the mirror for too long as you stepped out of the shower, still feeling a little uncomfortable from earlier. you slipped into your pyjamas, consisting of a baggy crewneck sweater and sleep shorts, before settling against the headboard and grabbing your book from the bedside table. before you could even finish the first sentence, a knock at your door grabbed your attention. you shuffled your way to the door, looking through the peephole to spot hotch on the other side. your heart skipped a beat before unlocking the door, a small smile on his face when you opened it.

"sorry to bother, but i just wanted to check on you and make sure you were okay" hotch can appear standoffish in the field, but his care for others was very strong and genuine.

"oh, thank you, i'm okay... i don't want to make earlier a big deal or anything, i've heard it before"

a slight frown forms on hotch's face at your words, "i'm sorry to hear that, you don't deserve to be spoken to that way"

you nod shyly at his response, spotting the container in his hands.

"oh! here" hotch holds the container out towards you, "i noticed you didn't end up eating anything at the station, so i grabbed you a cupcake"

your heart swells at the thoughtfulness of your boss, grabbing the container from his hands, fingers brushing against his. "that's sweet of you, thank you" you continue without thinking, "did you want to come in? i have a couple beers in the fridge"

"i don't want to impose-"

"you aren't at all, please..." you open the door wider, allowing him to pass by you. you're overwhelmed with the scent of his cologne, not too strong but still potent and manly. hopefully it sticks in the room after he leaves.

you set down the container and grab two beers from the mini fridge, passing one to hotch as he sits across from you at the little dining table in your room.

"do you party by yourself often when we're away on cases?" he teases, gesturing to the beer in his hand.

"oh no, jj and i party together" you giggle softly, a chuckle slipping from his mouth. "i'll invite you next time"

"that would be great" he shoots you a smile before taking a sip, you doing the same.

"i-" you take a breath, "like i said, i don't want to make earlier a big deal, but i do want to thank you for defending me. being a female in this area of work can already be hard enough, but being..." you sigh, "not fitting into the beauty standard just adds another layer, i guess, so thank you"

"you don't have to thank me, you never should've been disrespected like that. and for what it's worth, i think you're beautiful" his hand reaches for yours which is resting on the table, squeezing it softly.

your cheeks fill with heat, the feeling of his large hand around yours bringing solace.

"i know it may be inappropriate, but i don't care. you're so beautiful, i can't help but want to make sure that you know it" his tone is as serious as can be, yet beyond genuine.

"aaron" you breathe, locking eyes with him. you get lost in the deep brown hue of his eyes as they fill with something you can't quite pinpoint.

"come here" he speaks barely above a whisper, coaxing you over to his side of the table as he rises from his chair. your hand remains in his as you walk over, stopping in front of him before his hands trail to your hips. he hoists you onto the table, a small gasp escaping you. a subtle smirk grazes his lips as he situates himself between your legs, leaning in closer.

"if this isn't okay, tell me" the urge to squeeze the plush of your hips was overwhelming aaron, but he harnessed some self-control in order to make sure you were comfortable.

"it's more than okay" you reply, hands reaching up to loosen the tie he was still wearing.

aaron doesn't miss a beat, capturing your lips in a passionate kiss. you hum at the feeling, tugging off his tie and letting your hands roam his shoulders. he squeezes your hips, his hands trailing up your body underneath your sweater. his hands are rough but his touch is intoxicating, indulging in every inch of you. he takes ahold of your breasts, groping the mounds and flicking your nipples with his thumbs. he pulls away from the kiss, a whine escaping your lips.

"i know, baby. just wanna take this off, is that okay?" the pet name goes straight to your core as you nod in response to his question.

"words. tell me it's okay" the dominance in his voice has wetness pooling in your panties.

"it's okay, please" you practically beg, eager to feel him all over you.

"good girl, lift your arms up" he strips you of your sweater, tossing it onto the chair he was previously seated in.

his eyes rake over your body, close to drooling at the sight of your bare breasts and the plush of your tummy; he was in awe.

"fucking beautiful" he groans, kissing you again but with a little more fervor this time. he lets his lips trail down your jaw and neck, making their way between your breasts and over your tummy. he reaches the waistband of your shorts, looking up at you for confirmation.

"please, yes" you whine impatiently, remembering his need to hear you verbally respond.

he smirks proudly before pulling off your shorts and panties in one shot, kneeling on the rough carpet of the hotel room as he spreads you open.

"my god" he murmurs, pressing kisses along the insides of your thighs. "i always loved your thighs, the way those skirts you wear hug them so perfectly..." he muses as you squirm under his touch and gaze, his mouth so close yet so far.

"i'm getting there, sweetheart, be patient" this only makes you whimper more, aaron landing a gentle smack to your clit. "did you hear me?"

"mhmmm" you whine, another smack landing on your needy clit.

"you'll get what you want faster if you answer properly, you know that by now, don't you?" he uses his thumbs to spread your pussy open, your slick staring back at him.

"yes, yes daddy!" the name slips before you can stop it, your mouth moving faster than your brain due to the pure desperation you felt. having your boss (and the man you secretly have feelings for) between your legs was a sight you thought you'd only see in your dreams, so your current position was dizzying to say the least.

the sound that left aaron was reminiscent of a growl, immediately diving in to collect your juices on his tongue. you couldn't hold back your moans if you tried, nails clawing at the wooden table underneath you.

"you taste so good... so good for daddy" he murmurs, sucking your clit into his mouth. each time he suckles on your bud he sends you further into ecstasy, your back arching and pushing your pussy further into his face.

"oh my god, fuck oh my god" you babble breathlessly, aaron's ministrations not faltering even as you grind your pussy against his mouth. he lets go of your clit just to start flicking it with his tongue, hands gripping your thighs and holding them back so he had room to devour you.

"i'm- i'm close"

"yeah? you're gonna cum on my tongue?" aaron's tongue dives into your hole before suckling on your clit again, pushing you over the edge.

"daddy" you squeal as you cum for aaron, a hum rumbling in his throat as he tastes your sweetness. your chest rises and falls rapidly as you attempt to regulate your breath, the task proving difficult as he sexily unbuttons his shirt and unbuckles his belt.

"you did so good, baby. can you get on the bed for me?" he asks gently as he unzips his pants, observing every movement of yours.

"of course" you make your way to the bed, sitting in the middle and waiting (im)patiently for aaron to make his way over and touch you again. he removes his boxers before he saunters over, your eyes almost bulging out of your head at the sight of his cock. he was around 7 inches in length yet still a perfect thickness, the head leaking precum and looking unbelievably enticing.

"lie back and hold those legs for me" he hums in satisfaction as you obey his orders, tapping his tip on your clit. the wet smacking sound has you whimpering, your eyes practically begging him to push inside.

"is there something you want?" you learned quickly that aaron loved to taunt and tease, but also hear you ask for him; express your desire.

"give me your cock, daddy, i need you inside me"

"need me, huh?" he smirks as he slowly pushes just his tip inside, remaining stagnant for a moment though it felt like hours. "who am i to deny a girl her needs?" he pushes all the way in, the sudden fill making you gasp.

he starts to thrust, finding a pace that still allows him to fuck deeply into you. his hands are pressing your legs back now, your own yanking at the duvet below you. the sound of his hips slamming into yours echoes off the hotel walls, your pussy sucking in his cock each time he pulls out.

"so perfect, you feel so good around daddy" he moans, pounding into you like it's the last thing he'd ever do. "thought about this pussy so many times, pressing you like this and making you mine"

you whine at his words, the prospect of forming a coherent sentence seeming far fetched by how much his cock was jumbling your brain.

"you cock drunk? hm? you're so cute" he breathes out, his hips picking up their pace as he plunges deep into you again and again. you clench around him, indicating that your orgasm was on it's descent again.

"are you gonna cum again? answer me"

"yes daddy! i- oh i'm gonna cum, gonna cum" you moan loudly, speaking nonsense as you begin to cum around his cock.

aaron lets out a low growl, continuing to pound relentlessly. "that's it, that's a good fucking girl, let it all out"

your legs quiver in his grasp as you come down from your second orgasm, his cock sliding in and out of you with ease.

"please cum inside me, daddy. fill me with your cum, please please please" you plead as you stare up at aaron, the pleasure plastered on his face now ingrained in your mind.

"fuck... anything for you, sweetheart, i'm gonna fill this pussy" he groans, his hips stuttering as he starts to cum. you feel the twitch of his cock as he pumps you full, his hands gingerly releasing your legs and lying them flat on the bed.

"holy shit" you giggle, rubbing your hands up and down his biceps.

"you could say that again" aaron chuckles, pulling out slowly and lying beside you on the bed. his hand finds it's home on your waist as you snuggle close to him, your head resting on his chest.

"i definitely couldn't have guessed that this is how my evening would go" you mumble, tracing shapes on his chest with your finger.

"me neither, but i'm happy it did... i've been wanting that to happen for a long time" aaron hugs you close as your bodies exchange heat.

"oh yeah?"

"mhm, and i want you to know that i have more than sexual attraction to you... i'd love to take you on a date once we get home, if you'd want that"

a smile takes over your face at his question, "i'd love that"

aaron presses a kiss to your head,

"sounds like a plan, sweetheart"

[samhadjblog2]

This isn't a basis of how "I" wanted it to go. Rather a lot of people's issues is that Caitlyn immediately uses the Grey on The Chem-baron's which is just too much. It doesn't help that all of this was conveyed through a montage. On top of that she is only really called out in one episode and that's it. There is never any further discussions on her actions beyond what happens in episode 8.

Also the pages I shown are simply saying that they wanted more out of Caitlyn's down darkside arc. Because at the start of ep.4 we Caitlyn immediately is already having second thoughts. Which just seems like night and day to how her story.

However very well then we can agree to disagree. I just want to let it be known that I don't out right hate Caitlyn. However I feel like the root of her issues come down to cramming what should of been 3 seasons of story into one season.

You know a character is overhated when people have to make up shit that didn't happen on order to justify that hatred.

"Caitlyn gassed the whole city of Zaun" wrong. She uses the grey as a weapon to incapacitate the chembarons in their hideouts, specifically. The montage SHOWS us this. She does this in a strike team she creates as a means to avoid an all out invasion led by the Noxian forces, which would have meant the deaths of several innocents. Even if the grey might have spread minutely to affect civilians, the chances are slim, and the grey is nothing more than factory smaug. Objectively, a handful of civilians breathing factory smaug for a brief amount of time is worlds better than numerous innocent people dying. Even in her rage, Caitlyn knows mercy.

And I guess these same people falsely overstating Caitlyn's actions don't want to talk about Jinx using gas bombs indiscriminately on the entirety of Piltover, intentionally harming innocent civilians. Or that her fishbones blast ALSO killed innocents.

No, I guess we only want to talk about the intentional harming of innocent people if it's Caitlyn doing it, and you have to outright lie about her intentions and the severity of which she acts in order to do so.

And the thing is, when you do shit like this, it makes it impossible to talk about other characters, like Jinx, their faults, their good and bad, without then making others assume that their character deserves hate the way you hate Caitlyn. I love Jinx. She's a fantastically written character. But I call out her actions and the way she harms others and you assume I'm calling her a bad character undeserving of an audience's love, right? The way you are with Caitlyn?

Arcane is supposed to be a show where we're able to discuss the spectrum of morality. And it's actually done phenomenally well, but people like you want to look at things in a very black and white way. You're looking at it on a class based system. If someone is from Piltover, no good deeds they do can be considered if they do something bad. If they're from Zaun, every evil thing they do must be defended in some way. Because privilege and oppression are the ultimate markers of good and evil to you. There's no complexity to be had there for you. People of privilege can't feel pain. Oppressed people can't cause pain.

It's narrow minded.

I love Arcane because we CAN discuss this complexity that exists. And I guess it makes sense why you hate season 2, because it made it impossible for you to stay with your narrow minded way of thinking.

[randomnessunlimitedblog]

D'ya really think Ken and Okazaki are comparable in terms of evil-ness?

Tetro spoilers under the cut

Okay honestly I don't think anyone in Tetro is 100% good or evil, however I will discuss Okazaki and Hasegawa in this post

Okazaki:

Beat up Wada, horribly injuring him

Made Wada have panic attacks by locking him up in small spaces

Pickpocketed stuff

Killed two innocent people, one of whom was slowly and painfully tortured to death

Ken:

Used the investigation into Watari's murder as a pretext for finding out his classmates' medical issues and personal traumas

Switched Yanagi's painkiller medicine with emetics

Stole Wada's food (which he knows is traumatic for Wada)

Swapped Hiroaki's milk with soy milk (which he's allergic to)

Gave Hiroaki back his drugs so he'd relapse

Lied to Ojima that Ojima attacked him while dissociating

Force-fed Ojima alcohol while he was dissociating to make him drunk

Repeatedly chose dare in the Loyalty Game and passed his penalties on to Mai, causing her to get brutally injured

Wrote death threats to Tamba

Dumped pool chlorine on Mai

Placed several traps around the school, which injured people

Trapped Yanagi in a dark room with nine rotting corpses for several hours

Killed Mai, an innocent person who wanted to help everyone

Tried to get the entire class killed. As if this wasn't bad enough, he'd been planning this since before Watari died, meaning that Watari and Hama (who actively reached out to him and tried to comfort him after Kamimura died) were going to be killed too

Claimed that nobody in the killing game knew what losing a loved one felt like after killing the girl Yanagi wanted to marry (and ignoring the pain of people like Wada, who lost four friends in the game)

I feel like you can argue that on one hand Okazaki was already "evil" when she came into the game and Ken was slowly driven insane, but on the other hand Ken did a lot more things and hurt a lot more people than Okazaki

Again, I think morality is hard to evaluate in Tetro because these are kids stuck in a life or death situation, but anyway those are my thoughts

[casscainmainly]

Does Cass gets jealous? I'm still new to reading her comics, and I really love her even if I'm in Batgirl issue 4 😅

Wait this is a REALLY good question. Off the top of my head I can't remember any major moments of jealousy (except for evil Cass... but I don't think we need to discuss that); I think Cass is more likely to feel insecure rather than jealous, which I see as two different emotions. She does want things other people have, but it's often a sad emotion (she's lacking something) rather than a jealous one (she wants exactly what the other person has) (spoiler alert I'm pulling from future issues in bg 2000!!!):

Batgirl (2000) #53 / 39 / 59

Of all the people in her life she's most likely to be jealous of Steph or Tim, who both reflect a lot of things she never had - the first panel shows Cass seeing how good Steph is with people (in a way Cass isn't), the second shows her reflecting on her inexperience in romance compared to Steph again, and the third shows her comparing her romantic experiences/relationship to Stephanie with Tim's. In any of these cases she'd have a right to feel jealous, but the narration/dialogue doesn't feel like jealousy. It's more like a deep longing. I think to be jealous, Cass would have to think she deserves things like kids liking her or romance. I don't know if she does - I think a part of her believes she doesn't have those things because she's not good enough for them.

I think I've made posts about her being jealous of Dick's relationship to Babs, but that's purely speculation/headcanon rather than on the page. Also, Cass is often positioned as the one to be jealous of, as seen in Steph in BG 2000 #26, Damian in Gates of Gotham, even Dick in Batman and the Outsiders/Batgirl (2008). Would she have been jealous if one of her canonical love interests like Tai'Darshan or Zero had kissed someone else?? Idk maybe. But she's never experienced that before, because she's so often the one on the pedestal/being admired (which is not a good thing, but it is a part of her character).

So overall I think she can feel jealousy, but it's not an emotion she usually has or one that is a huge part of her character. She does feel insecure/like she's lacking something, but it rarely manifests as the resentment jealousy stirs up. But idk I might've forgotten something, so anyone feel free to correct me!! Also I'm so glad you're reading Batgirl and loving Cassandra Cain, welcome to Cass nation <333.

[tunnaa-unnaa]

You're trying to look at it from a problem solving perspective, but really I think you're missing the depth of why people complain.

One is seeking social connection, in which case they want you to confirm that you too wish this one particular thing was different. If it turns out you both agree on this, the conversation can evolve into a deeper discussion of that subject or move onto other things you might have in common in disliking. I saw someone in the replies make this same point.

Another common reason to complain is validation. People often know it's frowned upon to be a hater, so they complain in order to get you to validate their distaste of whatever they're complaining about. They want you to give them permission to be unhappy about it and to feel a bit pissed.

Also, for a lot of people points of complaint are not as simple as something you can choose not to be bothered by since it cannot be changed. To some it's like chronic pain, something that gnaws on your mood and they just feel the need to let it out there.

I just kinda feel the issue is not within the complainer or the complaint itself, but your reaction to it. Why do you feel such rush to move onto something else to talk about? Why is it that you feel the need to "solve" the complaint, or to push the complainer to accept something that is bothering them? Why does complaining have this effect on you specifically? Most people don't have a huge issue dealing with pointless complaining, even if they find it exhausting. Like, clearly so many people doing it means it has a social purpose and isn't as pointless as you might think.

Okay I know I keep posting about the same subject over and over again, but in my defense I'm trying to do my best to unlearn it so it's not like I just repeat the same actions expecting a different result. But I just am not used to my boyfriend's family's way of habitual complaining. Like the way I grew up, you have problems you can fix, so you shut up and fix them, and you have problems you can't fix, so you shut up and accept that that's just how life is sometimes.

Complaining is a way of asking someone to help you troubleshoot what you can do to fix a problem, or help remind you that there's nothing you can do, and therefore it's neither your fault nor responsibility, and therefore you can just accept that it is like that. You're doing someone a favour by pointing out that the things they'd have to do to make the problem stop existing are so over the top absurd that there is no shame in simply stoically accepting that there is nothing you can do, and be done with it.

The concept of complaining about something that you are 100% aware is not fixable, not within your power to fix, and which has always existed and will always continue to exist - such as human stupidity - is absurd to me. Beyond my comprehension. It's like trying to dry your wet socks by rinsing the wetness out of them, when you know that this isn't how drying clothes works.

I try to remind myself that sometimes people just complain about things nobody can do anything about for no other reason than to complain about them. And while I really don't know what you're supposed to say when people do that, apparently I should not tell my boyfriend's mother that unfortunately stupid people - especially teenage idiots - have always existed and have always done stupid shit, and unfortunately they will continue to exist for as long as it's illegal to shoot them.

[sunshine-jesse]

I feel like there are a lot of people like me who are too shy to actively participate in discussions. Which is why seeing your posts and answering asks is such an enjoyable experience. I thought you were very civil and tactful. And I look forward to more of your posts.

As for my question: Do you think Ashley actually spread the rumor at school, or was the guy just lying through his teeth maybe? I just don't see why she would do that unless something she said got taken out of context by the girls in her class?

Thank you for your support. I really appreciate it.

I’m of two and three quarters of a mind on this.

It’s absolutely the kind of thing she would do, as Shots showed us that she’s willing and able to do shit that would ruin Andrew for other people. She also has the capacity to take actions out of spite and malice, as that’s part of the agency that Andrew (and everyone else[and a depressing amount of the fanbase]) denies her. HOWEVER,

The timeline doesn’t add up, considering the rumors started on Monday and seemingly before either of them got to school that day. Not to mention she doesn't seem to have the kind of social life that'd allow her to do it outside of school.

I have my doubts that Ashley is physically capable of lying like that. When she lies it's usually out of desperation to get what she wants or to double down on something someone else said. I don't think it's out of character though, I just don't remember many instances of her weaving a deliberate lie outside of the above two circumstances.

If she's shown to have a social life outside of school and Julia occasionally taking her somewhere then I can buy that she did it there, but otherwise, the timeline not adding up leads me to believe she didn't do it.

But I do need to emphasize that I don't think it's too far for her. Like I really, really need to emphasize that.

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

I know that Malleus is a sensitive topic here. Even though, he has his weaknesses (which is made very apparent in the canon material); he also has his strengths. One of the things I could immediately think of revolves around his familial attitude towards his family (Lilia, Silver, Sebek). Malleus cherishes his family very much. After all, his fears of losing Lilia was so immense that it ultimately lead him to the overblot. At the core of his character, I see him as someone who is fundamentally familial at heart. Most of his actions in Book 7 are rooted in this aspect of his character. This contrasts his tendency towards self-isolation and enriches his story.

Hey, I want to clarify that Malleus is only a sensitive topic if an ask's tone is aggressive or pushy to begin with. For example, I've previously been spammed with demands to explain why I dislike him + reasons why I should change my mind, told I was "hate criming" him (gross misuse of the term, by the way) for expressing those opinions (I would link to the post, but I actually never publicly responded to this ask or really talked about this publicly), and accused of "[wanting and expecting]" the worst out of him". It's a loud minority that has made me wary when Malleus is brought up. I can't help it, it's sort of gut reflex at this point/j But I'm generally fine with people wanting to discuss him, gush about him, critique him, whatever, so long as things stay civil and open-minded.

I also want to make it clear that even if someone personally dislikes a character, that is not the same as them disregarding the character's positive traits or claiming that the character has no positive traits to begin with. Malleus is certainly no exception to this. (I have a post going over some of the things I enjoy about him, although please keep in mind that it's not meant to be an exhaustive list of his good points.) Personally disliking a character also doesn't mean that you're automatically flagging a character as flat or poorly written. A character could be the best written thing in the entire world or the most complex character ever and people could still dislike them for any reason. Design, vibes, whatever.

That being said, I don't think "familial" is an adjective I've ever personally associated with Malleus? I definitely get those vibes when I browse romantic Malleus fandom works (it's very common to see him being portrayed as a loving, protective father and husband), but not that much with canon content. That's not me claiming Malleus feels nothing toward his Diasomnia members (he definitely DOES care for them), but I don't get the sense that he views them as family or that he’s overtly warm towards them??? At best, I see him perhaps viewing Lilia as a guardian or father figure, especially since it was the fear of losing Lilia that kicked off the major conflict in book 7 + his grandmother seemed too busy with royal duties to raise him. Furthermore, we see that Malleus hatched because of Lilia's magic and how excited he is to see Lilia in multiple flashbacks to Malleus's childhood. He clearly respects Lilia a lot and associates him with the few genuinely happy parts of his childhood. However, I don't see him breaching professional boundaries with Sebek and Silver and skirting into familial territory. (I discuss this more in detail in an older post, so I'd suggest taking a look if you're interested!) Lilia does refer Diasomnia as “not related by blood [but] we are still family", and I believe even their VAs referred to Lilia as a father and Malleus and Silver as brothers. Problem is, I don’t see this reflected in Malleus himself and how he behaves.

It's obvious that Malleus seeks companionship, but that he doesn't realize this about himself without outside help (he couldn't even identify that he was lonely until Yuu pointed it out to him early in book 7). He's so enabled he has become used to the isolation that comes with being at the top and never really thought to question it. This comes through in many of his behaviors: he becomes upset at being left out or uninvited to ceremonies and meetings, when his grandmother (his only living relative) fails to spend time with him despite promising to, and constantly faces struggles connecting with his peers (he tries to, but usually fails in these attempts). And because he fears being left behind, he tries to stop everyone from leaving him. Malleus is also pretty emotionally stunted and awkward due to his growing up alone. This could be a matter of our individual POVs differing, but I think Malleus's loneliness and longing to be with others--despite being raised in relative isolation--is being conflated with being familial?? I genuinely do not recall any standout moments in which Malleus acts familial towards Silver or Sebek, or even towards other peers (though if you can think of any, please share). The only thing that comes to my mind is when Malleus helped Lilia with raising baby!Silver... but even then, I sort of wonder how much of that was intentionally arranged by Lilia to expose Malleus to humans + combat the bigoted worldview he might otherwise develop. Their current day relationship dynamics just don't read as familial to me.

But also 💦 “familial” is a pretty vague term and could mean different things to different people. I think it assumes that families have amicable dynamics within themselves, and I don’t think that’s always the case. Maybe our definitions are entirely different and that’s also contributing to our conclusions looking nothing alike.

[utilitycaster]

because this has been stuck in my mind since I listened to the Ultimate RPG Podcast episode discussed here I just wanted to go over it:

Huge caveat that I'm not familiar with what work Friedman was referring to, so ultimately, I cannot judge if player agency was violated; my point is just to outline as best I can what I believe player agency means (and that this example does not clearly state the violation, which again, could have occurred and simply not been accurately described).

In the podcast, the example of player agency violation was a game in which all the characters had amnesia and had blank character sheets, and as they found out more about themselves, pre-recordings from other people (ie, not the players) would play. This was run in D&D.

This is not in my opinion automatically a violation of player agency! As D'Amato noted, this is the premise of some indie TTRPGs, and I would add that while this isn't the inherent premise of D&D, the fact that it was run in D&D doesn't mean it's violating player agency. It would be a violation if the players showed up with a fully made character sheet and the DM said "actually that's not who you are, here's a blank sheet." But if the players were told "so we're going to play a D&D game but you don't know who you are or anything about yourself - you will learn these details through gameplay. Sound cool?" and the players agreed (and safety tools are present, and by safety tools I include "players are allowed to just nope out", that's fine! If I lock you in a room in my house for an hour because I think you suck, that is violation of your agency; if I run an escape room and you say "hell yeah I'd like to do this" and voluntarily go in (and are told where the emergency exits are) and are locked in a room for an hour, that is fine.

Ultimately, the core of player agency is setting accurate expectations and getting consent. D'Amato also notes that it's very hard to tell if player agency is violated without being at the table and I would agree: if everyone at the table as described above agreed to that game, there is no violation of consent: they consented to playing an unknown character with amnesia and the DM creating their character for them. On the other hand, a super standard D&D game in which you fight a beholder is a violation of player agency if one of the players said "hey, I am really triggered by beholders, they upset me, and I don't want to have them in the game," and the DM said "ok, sounds good" and then threw one at the party and ignored the player's discomfort. It is not about letting players do anything they want; rather, it is about ensuring players understand the rules of engagement within this system and not violating that, nor needs of those players to which everyone has agreed (lines/veils, etc). [This is also why people whining about D&D not respecting player agency are stupid - if you agreed to D&D, you agreed to the rules of D&D. You can wish for a game that grants more freedom of action for player characters! That is not the same as player agency; indeed I think a lot of people conflate player agency and character agency.]

I think KolloK, at least as described, actually feels like FAR more of a violation of player agency. In the same podcast, Friedman notes that Zac Eubank has said that he is ultimately not at all focused on player experience during the game but rather on end product, which is at least a bad sign for respecting player needs and agency! I will again admit I watched an hour of KolloK and found it both utterly unimpressive unless you are easily wowed by camera filters, and also excruiciatingly boring (and also people talked about that set like it was not a blackbox theater with a slowly rotating rock. Emperor's New Clothes-ass situation) so I am disinclined to be generous towards it, but this really sounds like a pretty open and shut case of player agency not being prioritized (especially since there's explicitly not an open table policy). Now, we're in a murky area because I assume the players are all aware of this and like, were not forced at gunpoint to be on the show, but it's still Not Great in my opinion, particularly since the first example of the amnesiac D&D game sounds like it could be an incredibly fun and healthy experience and KolloK sounds grueling and unpleasant even if you agreed to it.

So just to recap:

Player agency: almost entirely a metagame concept. Do you abide by the rules of the game you and your players agreed to (even if those rules involve a degree of ceding character agency) and respect the safety tools agreed upon? But also: do you let players take a break without asking you? Do you explain why they can't do something they want to do in a way that treats them as people with brains and feelings?

Character agency: what can characters do within this game? Violating character agency is fine provided it does not violate player agency, ie, Dominate Person in D&D is fine as long as your player agreed to play D&D and did not nix this as an option in your session zero safety discussion.

Player agency is in no way compromised by any specific TTRPG system provided players are aware of the expectations of said system; Character agency can be. Players are real people and violating their agency is pretty unambiguously a problem; characters are not and violating their agency can be an important part of storytelling.

[readingiskeepingmegoing]

How I felt at the start of the chapter.

How I felt by the end.

I gave Stacia a tight smile as Joe spoke up, “We just wanted to check in and make sure Alec is keeping his distance?”

It Joe who's getting the redemption arc? Hmmmmmm, I find this idea potentially acceptable.

Dieter: I can’t do it today. I’m sorry. I tried, but I can’t.

He didn’t look at me as he walked over to sit his things down on a nearby chair. I could tell he was taking deep, controlled breaths as he turned to face me. He kept his head down, wringing his hands together as he approached.

This is so sad 😞 I just want to give him a cuddle and tell him it will all be ok.

He shook his head, “I don’t wanna talk about it. We have a job to do. That’s what I’m here for. I’ll keep it professional, as requested.”

😭😭😭

I was slower to leave, reaching my car about five minutes or so after he had left. I was surprised to find that he was still in the lot. He didn’t move to leave until I was in my car with the door shut. I guessed there were some habits that he wouldn’t be giving up.

He still needs to make sure that she is safe, no matter how badly his heart is hurting 🥺

It wasn’t the first time I had accidentally hit him in some way while dancing, but it was the first time he almost dropped me because of it.

They moved to follow me, but I stopped them, reaching to remove my mic pack. “No. It’s better if you don’t come. Just…lemme talk to him in private, please.”

Read the room, boys. They really don't need an audience.

He was shaking his head now as he stared at the ground, “No. I’m never dancing with anyone else. I can’t.”

Oh god, that hurts to hear him say that!

He gave me a deadpan stare, “Are you fucking serious right now? You preach about believing people can change and giving them second chances when you won’t even give me the first one. You’re too fucking scared to even try. Meanwhile you gave that abusive asshole how many chances? And I can’t even get one to prove myself to you. I’m never gonna treat you the way he did. I care about you too much to do that.”

Oh Dieter 🥺🥺🥺

I wanted to scream the same sentiment from the roof tops, but I was too fucking scared. Admitting to those feelings was giving him too much control. It would mean that I was letting him in. All the way. And I still wasn’t sure if I was ready for that.

Gah! Kat, if you won't talk to Dee, speak to a therapist, or your sister, just somebody. I completely understand why you have issues. It would be weird if you didn't, but pushing away the best thing that has ever happened to you is not going to make them go away.

He took a step toward me, his eyes boring into mine as he continued. “You can choose not to believe me if you want…but I need you to know that’s where I’m at. I’ve never said those words to anyone in my life. No one has ever made me feel this way. That’s how I know it’s real. It’s not some bullshit on set hookup. It never was. I knew you were it for me at the beginning of our first rehearsal and that’s never gonna change.”

He just told that for him it was essentially love at first sight 😭

Evan rubbed at the tops of his thighs and sighed, “Well, since I’m not supposed to discuss any of this with you, I definitely didn’t tell you that he’ll forgive you and that he does understand that part. Not that we’ve had in-depth conversations about it or anything…”

I can absolutely see Evan’s exasperated expression as he sits through an impromptu therapy session 😂

So, I feel like I can confidently say that he has changed. I see it…this is his best…and I worry less and less about it as time goes on. He’s committed now and he’s been doing so fucking good. I have no doubt that if you continue to be in his life, I’d never have to worry again. I’ve never seen him like this…with anyone. Trust me when I say that man is devoted to you in every way. You won’t have to worry about him sliding back into his old ways.”

Kat is his one, and only 🥹 She makes him what to be better, not only for her but for himself too.

Kat hadn’t even given me the first chance though. Not really. She had decided to nope out of it before I even had a chance to fuck things up. The worst part was, I couldn’t really blame her. I never felt worthy of her. Deep down I knew it was too good to last.

No, no, no! This hurts too much 😭 I know that he is in shock,and that's making everything thing heightened, but it breaks my heart that he feels that way.

That frustration reached a boiling point while we were filming on Thursday. I almost dropped Kat. If I had, she surely would have gotten hurt, which made me hate myself even more for how ridiculous I was being. She almost got hurt, because of me. It was just too much.

🥺🥺🥺

Looking back, I wasn’t proud of how I reacted in that moment. Somehow the old Dieter busted loose from his confines and decided to show his ass for a minute. That’s when I knew that I needed to step away. I was slipping.

That shows just how far he has come, that he can see he's unravelling.

What happened after that wasn’t my proudest moment. I drove to Evan’s house and essentially had a meltdown on his couch. He did not know how to handle that situation because it was a first.

While the thought of Evan’s complete confusion makes me giggle no end, can we take a moment to appreciate that Dieter went to Evan instead of backsliding and finding a dealer. I am so proud of him!

It was weighing on her, but I reasoned that it was because of how hard I was taking it. Not because she loved me back.

But she does! She really does, and she's going to tell you, the second she gets out of her head.

It made it hard to catch my breath. For the first time in weeks, I found myself wanting alcohol, just so I could get through this. I hated myself for it.

No! You don't do that Dieter, you've come too far to backtrack to the bad old days now. Think of Zee. She would be pissed.

She sighed, “It’s not really tampering. The bottom two will still be the same. I just need to give them a little wakeup call so that they get their shit together. Another week of this and they’re gone…and fucking Alec will still be here. What do you think that’ll do to ratings? Especially if word ever gets out about what he actually did to her…”

Wtf? 👀

Sneaky

I was packing up my bag when movement by the door caught my attention. Any excitement that I might have had was quickly deflated when my eyes locked with Anika’s as she came sashaying into the room like a predator ready to pounce on prey.

Oh no! Dee doesn't need to deal with her. Go away Anika

She was smiling again as her hand settled on the back of my neck, “You know, something to take your mind off things…off Kat. I can make you dinner…or do other things…”

Bloody hell! She's shameless! Have some class Anika.

I gave her a crooked smile and laughed nervously, tilting my head back as she suddenly leaned in, her hand pulling my head forward as she crashed her lips against mine. Everything about it felt so wrong. I honestly felt like I was going to be sick as I pushed her away just in time to see Kat’s back walking toward the exit.

An hour later, I found myself sitting at the bar of a local tavern, staring at a full tumbler sitting between my hands.

I paused just before putting the glass to my lips and turned to find the last person I ever expected sitting beside me. Lana. She had a sly smile on her face as she eyed me.

👀👀👀

I never thought it possible, but Lana Thompson officially had my full attention. My drink was forgotten as I turned to face her fully, “What do you mean the job you were hired to do?”

This has Stacia’s paw prints all over it.

You told me to go get you a coffee during a break. I think you called me ‘sugar tits’ somewhere in the middle of that demand too?

That is such a Dieter line 🤣

She smiled, “Now, Imma need you to go get your girl and fix this. Please. I’m a massive Dieterina Stan and I cannot stand to witness this mess any longer.”

Lana is redeemed!

I shrugged as I held in my smile, “Cranberry juice.”

🤣🤣 Good boy!

She shook her head, “You may be sober, but the chaos demon lives on…”

Always 😂

I squeezed her a little tighter, “Don’t worry baby girl, Imma figure out how to get your momma back.”

Our sweet Dieter and Kat are struggling, but they are limping along and trying their best. Are we shocked they were even able to rehearse? Are we shocked they had a shitty performance?

Quite surprised they managed to rehearse, such as it was. But I'm not surprised at all that they had a shitty performance. Their connection, both physical and emotional, is what makes them such good dance partners, and with it all going g haywire, it makes sense that they would struggle to connect for the dance.

Speaking of the performance, are we mad that Joe let Stacia fudged the bottom three results? Stacia obviously isn’t a fan of Alec…does that get her any brownie points? 😂

I'll let them off this time, but only because she doesn't want Alec to win. I'll allow her 1 brownie point. Stacia has the potential to earn more, but she needs to work for them.

And then we got Evan and Lydia coming in for a save. Do we think they should be getting in the middle of all this? Also, I love Evan. I just needed to say that.

Yes, they absolutely should be getting involved.

At this point, I'd be suggesting that the two of them lock Dieter and Kat in a room and don't let them out until everything is resolved.

Any chance of a Lydia-Evan friendship developing? I feel like they would get on well.

Now for the elephant in the room…Lana. How do we all feel about her now? Still hate her? Conflicted? Love her? I need to know your thoughts.

Pleasantly surprised. I wasn’t expecting any of that. I feel bad for her having to put up with Alec, but it was for the greater good. Redemption complete.

I know the chapter title says it will be the Quickstep, but I may switch it up to the Lambada, just because. We shall see.

The Lambada, you say? I'm listening, I'm interested.

Kat gets scolded by her sister.

Lydia will give it to Kat straight. And hopefully make her see sense.

Are Lydia and Dieter going to start building their own friendship? I would kinda love that.

Kat tends to her plants with thoughts of Dieter on her mind.

Plant Mama thinking about Plant Daddy 🥹

Dieter does another Instagram live

I can't wait!

Serious conversations are had

I have high hopes for reconciliation.

We finally find out what the song was that they danced the Viennese Waltz to

🥺

Closed Position: Week 9 (Jazz)

Closed Position Masterlist ||| Main Masterlist Dieter Bravo x OFC (Katarina)

Series Summary: Dieter Bravo, now sober, was looking to change his bad boy image after hitting rock bottom. His team hoped that having him join the nationally televised family friendly dance competition, Dancing with the Stars, would be a good first step, if they can keep him out of trouble. 

Katarina Stamos expected her last season as a professional dancer on the show to go the same as it had for the past thirteen seasons. That all changed when she was partnered with the infamous Dieter Bravo. 

Dieter and Katarina are reluctantly thrown into their partnership and must learn to work together to succeed in the competition. In the process they form a deeper connection beyond the dance floor that neither anticipated.

Chapter Word Count: 12.3K

👉 Fic Warnings: Sexual tension, mutual pining, angst, so much smut (we get a little dom and sub Dieter, intimacy, use of a sex toy, sex acts in public, spanking...really it's all too much to list here - it's Dieter, use your imagination), spicy language, themes dealing with intimate partner violence (not by Dieter), past alcohol abuse, past drug abuse, and shitty parents. This will be a slow burn. Read at your own risk. Cat dad / plant dad Dieter comes with his own warnings.

Chapter Quote: "You’re not trying to fuck me too, are you?”

Kat’s POV

I stood staring at my puffy eyes in the mirror, now all cried out after a sleepless night alone in my own bed. I sighed, wondering if Dieter would even show up for this morning’s scheduled production meeting. The thought made me feel sick. I didn’t know what to say to him or if he would even speak to me. I wouldn’t blame him if he didn’t as I now realized how the things I said must have sounded. I was treating him like everyone else had, by not believing in him and taking his sobriety seriously. That wasn’t my intention. The problem was me, not him. However, I didn’t know how to make him see that without it sounding like I didn’t trust that he had changed. Truth be told, deep down, there may have been some doubt driving it all and I just didn’t want to admit it. 

I puffed air out of my cheeks as I pulled my tank top off, my eyes dropping to the marks left by Dieter’s mouth on my breast. The memory of our Sunday morning exploits filled my thoughts. The way he knew me and my body without me ever having to say a word. How every second we spent together was filled with intimacy unlike anything I had ever experienced. This is why it was hard for me to understand why my mind was telling me that it was superficial and circumstantial. 

I reached for the braid in my hair, pulling out the tie before working my fingers through it to loosen the strands from their confines. Dieter had been doing this for me. It had quickly become one of our morning rituals. My fingers didn’t feel the same as his. He wasn’t standing behind me, catching my gaze in the mirror with a smirk on his lips - and it was my fault. It was then I realized that I had given him everything, body and soul, and he still held those pieces. I knew that I would never get them back and I didn’t know how to handle it. 

I could feel the tears threatening to fall again, but somehow managed to shake them off as I stepped into the shower. I stood there for a time, allowing the hot spray to run down my face and hopefully calm the swelling caused by my emotional state. I felt like a mess, but eventually settled into a hazy numbness that I knew would be needed to get through the day and probably the next four weeks. 

I soon found myself walking toward Television City Studios without even remembering how I got there. The whole morning was a blur. I paused outside the door, allowing my eyes to scan the lot for Dieter’s car but I didn’t see it. I sighed in frustration, realizing I probably needed to have an excuse planned for Stacia and Joe in case he didn’t show up. 

As I sat waiting, my leg bounced incessantly. My eyes shifted between the clock on the wall and the entry door, anxiously awaiting Dieter’s arrival. When one of the young PA’s came to call me back for the meeting, he still hadn’t arrived. I nodded and stood to make my way to the conference room. When I entered, Stacia and Joe eyed me before their eyes trailed toward the door. 

Stacia was the first to speak, “Where’s Dieter?”

I opened my mouth to respond but was cut off before I said anything.

“I’m here,” Dieter called from the doorway as he rushed in to take the seat to my right. “Sorry, I got held up in traffic.” 

I exhaled a shaky breath that I didn’t realize I had been holding. I chanced a glance in his direction. He was staring straight ahead at Stacia and Joe, not even bothering to acknowledge me. He was wearing a hat and sunglasses. I could just make out his creased brows as his jaw tightened. My eyes drifted down, noticing the rise and fall of his chest. His breathing was shallow, like he was having trouble catching a breath, but he didn’t let it show. Instead, he kept a stony expression fixed on the two people sitting across the table from us. I noticed he had one hand fisted on his thigh, clenching and unclenching, no doubt leaving fingernail imprints on his palm as he did so. 

I had to force myself to look away, my gaze now settling on Stacia and Joe who seemed to be watching us in silence. They were clearly already sensing the awkward energy between us. Stacia’s head tilted to the side, “What happened to you two last night? You weren’t there for the bottom three announcements.” 

Dieter’s head turned toward me, that stony expression still on his face. I glanced over at him, but I couldn’t read him without seeing his eyes. I found myself wishing he would take those fucking sunglasses off. 

I cleared my throat, “I’m sorry, I wasn’t feeling well. I uhh, got sick.” 

Stacia’s left brow ticked upward, “Are you still feeling ill? Do we need to get someone else to step in this week?” 

I shook my head, “No…No, I’m fine now. I think it was something I ate.” 

Her eyes shifted between us. She definitely didn’t buy that. The tension between us was too obvious. There was no hiding it. 

“Everything still going well between you two?” she asked. 

I rubbed at my temple nervously. I didn’t know how to answer that. 

“Yeah, everything’s fine,” Dieter said. His voice was gruff. Raw. Like he had just woken up, except there was an undertone of something else. Sadness maybe? He didn’t sound very convincing, and it made my chest ache. 

They didn’t question it further, but I knew that they knew something was wrong. I could see it on their faces as they went through the motions of going through this week's routine. We would be doing Jazz, for which I was thankful. It was less intimate and would allow us to have some distance from each other. I didn’t pay any attention to the costume sketches. I stared at the pages without seeing them as I nodded in approval. I couldn’t even remember what the song of the week was as they wrapped up the meeting. 

Dieter inhaled a deep breath and stood, not hesitating to head toward the hallway as Stacia asked me to hang back for a moment. Dieter glanced in my direction, gnawing on the inside of his cheek before he stepped out of the room. I gave Stacia a tight smile as Joe spoke up, “We just wanted to check in and make sure Alec is keeping his distance?”

The question caught me off guard. Alec was the last thing on my mind at the moment. I managed a nod, “Yeah…he’s keeping away. I’ve not had any issues with him.” 

They both gave me tight smiles and nodded. “Good. Let us know if that changes, please,” Joe replied. 

“Yeah, of course,” I agreed before standing. “Anything else?” I asked. 

They shook their heads, and I took that as my cue to leave. As I said my goodbyes, I could feel their eyes on me until I was out of sight. Dieter and I had almost certainly set them into a tailspin with this development. 

When I got to the lobby, I scanned the area for Dieter, but he was nowhere to be found. I knew it was wishful thinking, but he had come to the meeting. Hopefully he would come to rehearsal, too - give me a chance to clarify what I was feeling. I needed him to know that it wasn’t him. I needed to make him understand that much at least. 

I left after that, my eyes still surveying the lot for him as I got into my car. He was long gone. I puffed air out of my cheeks as I decided to go pick up a quick lunch. I settled on fast food, realizing nothing looked appetizing as I stared at the menu board. I ended up with a grilled chicken sandwich that I didn’t really eat. I mostly just picked at it and nibbled on a few fries. I hated wasting food, but I just couldn't stomach it. I felt too disgusted with myself. I threw a handful of fries out for the waiting birds, then threw everything else in the trash. 

After watching the birds devour the fries for a few minutes, I headed toward the dance studio for rehearsal. Dieter wasn’t there. I tried to ignore that twisted feeling in the pit of my stomach that told me he wasn’t coming, but it was hard. That feeling intensified with each passing second. 

After twenty minutes, I decided to pull up our song to keep myself occupied. The song was called One Heart. I lay there on the floor with my eyes closed, thinking through possible choreography for the week while trying not to pay attention to the lyrics about a breakup and all the things left unsaid between two people. The producers really did have an unsettling ability to choose songs to fit the mood of the week. 

Thirty more minutes passed, and Dieter was still a no show. I grabbed my phone to check if I had any messages. Nothing. He was almost an hour late. He wasn’t coming. I fought back tears at the realization. I don’t really know what I expected. I probably would have done the same thing if I were him, but I at least would have told him I wasn’t coming. I opened my messenger app and found his name. 

Me: Are you coming to rehearsal?

I watched as the indicator immediately changed to “Read”. The three bubbles began bouncing indicating he was typing, but then stopped. This happened several more times before his reply finally came through. 

Dieter: I can’t do it today. I’m sorry. I tried, but I can’t. 

The tears that I had been holding in, finally slipped free. He didn’t have to say it. I could read between the lines. He was hurting. Because of me. I sat staring at the wall for a beat, forcing myself to feel the self-inflicted pain that I deserved. I wiped the tears away, then glanced back down at my phone. Hopeful as I typed out a reply. 

Me: It’s ok. We can pick it up tomorrow.  

I waited, watching the bubbles bounce, pause, then start again. 

Dieter: Yeah, maybe. 

Well, it wasn’t a no, and he didn’t tell me to fuck off. So, maybe it was a small win. 

Instead of going home and licking my wounds, I stayed at the studio and worked on our routine. I did still have a job to do after all. It would be better to have something started than nothing at all. 

I damn near had our entire routine planned out as I sunk into bed that evening, worn out and aching from pushing myself to go through it the best I could without a partner. Even though my body was tired, my mind was not. It was another restless night. 

On Wednesday, I awoke feeling like my body was twisted in a knot. Everything hurt, but I persevered - taking a scorching hot shower and loading up on anti-inflammatory pain relievers. It helped enough to make it bearable. I felt almost human as I walked into the empty dance studio. To pass time, I began stretching. The anxious feeling quickly returned to the pit of my stomach, that fear that Dieter wasn’t going to show again. If he didn’t show today, I wasn’t sure if we would make it through this week. 

An hour passed, and I lost hope. I wasn’t about to sit here for the full seven and a half hours if he wasn't planning to come. I took a deep breath as I reached for my phone. 

Me: Just checking in…are you coming to rehearsal today?

It was marked as read almost immediately. I waited at least ten minutes before his response finally came through. 

Dieter: Yes. 

I suddenly felt nauseous. I wasn’t sure if I was ready to see him, but I didn’t really have a choice. We still had a job to do. 

Twenty-five more minutes passed, and he still hadn’t shown up. I sighed, pinching the bridge of my nose as I walked into the hallway and peered out the windows into the parking lot. I was surprised to see his car sitting in the front row. He was still in the driver's seat with his head leaned back against the headrest, not moving for several minutes. 

Eventually, the door opened, and he stepped out. He stood there, staring toward the building as he raked a hand down his face. He sighed heavily as he leaned against the car and shook his head. Then he turned, sinking back into the driver’s seat. His feet were still planted on the pavement as he placed his elbows on his knees and buried his face in his hands. I knew I shouldn’t be watching him, but I couldn’t help it. Some part of me needed to see this. To see what I was doing to him. 

I wanted to go to him, but I didn’t feel like that would be the right thing to do. I didn’t want to send mixed signals because I still felt like we needed some space so that I could figure my stuff out. It wouldn’t be fair to string him along if I wasn’t sure what I wanted. 

His hands slid upward, pushing his hair away from his brow. He sat with his hands on his head, staring at the pavement for what seemed like forever. He puffed air out of his cheeks, then finally stood. He turned to grab his phone, keys, and water bottle out of the car before walking toward the entrance. I took a deep, calming breath as I headed back to our assigned studio space. 

It was several minutes before he finally entered the room. I assumed he had to give himself one last pep talk beforehand. He didn’t look at me as he walked over to sit his things down on a nearby chair. I could tell he was taking deep, controlled breaths as he turned to face me. He kept his head down, wringing his hands together as he approached. 

Now that I was seeing him up close, without his sunglasses, I could see how tired he looked. He had dark circles under his eyes and his face looked puffy. His hair was a mess, like he had run his fingers through it a million times. His patchy beard was more scruffy than normal, sticking out in all directions. I wanted nothing more than to hug him. 

He finally raised his head, looking everywhere but at my face. That hurt more than I realized it would. 

“Dieter, I…” I started, but he held up his hand to stop me. 

He shook his head, “I don’t wanna talk about it. We have a job to do. That’s what I’m here for. I’ll keep it professional, as requested.” 

My heart was pounding in my ears. I was not expecting him to handle it like this. 

“Can I just…” I began again, but he cut me off. 

“No. If it’s not about the routine, I don’t wanna hear it.” 

I sighed, accepting defeat. I could see the pain in his eyes, and it was killing me. I didn’t know what to say that would take it away. I realized there was nothing I could say to him right now that wouldn’t make it worse. 

“Ok. Let’s go over what I have so far then. We’ve got a lot of lost time to make up for.” 

We got to work. The undercurrent of tension never ceasing as we went through the motions. Everything between us felt negatively charged. The dancing was different. Our connection fragmented. We no longer moved as one. It was messy, causing frustrations to rise as we both struggled through it. 

When our rehearsal time was up, Dieter didn’t linger. He grabbed his belongings and told me to have a good evening and quickly exited the studio without a second glance in my direction. I was slower to leave, reaching my car about five minutes or so after he had left. I was surprised to find that he was still in the lot. He didn’t move to leave until I was in my car with the door shut. I guessed there were some habits that he wouldn’t be giving up. 

I woke up on Thursday feeling just as shitty as the day before. I wasn’t taking care of myself, and my body wasn’t happy about it. Add that to the loneliness I was feeling and the sadness over Dieter and it made for a bad morning.

Not to mention that it was filming day, and I was absolutely dreading it. After how it had gone the previous day with Dieter, I wasn’t sure how things were going to appear anywhere remotely close to normal. I knew it would be obvious to anyone watching that something was off between us. 

Dieter and I arrived at the dance studio close to the same time. The filming crew was already nearly finished with setup, so we got started with our stretches. There was no helping each other stretch or playful banter between us like there normally was. We were silent and avoided eye contact. It was already setting the stage for the massive blow up to come. 

I could tell from the glances that the crew were shooting at each other that they were picking up on the weird vibes. It wasn’t like they were hard to miss. Things started off cordial between us, much like the previous day. However, it was clear there were lingering frustrations with the routine. Dieter was having a hard time focusing and picking up the steps. It was Jazz, not the typical ballroom stuff, so it did make things a little more complicated. I knew he was better than this though. I knew it was because his mind was on other things. 

Three hours in, we were both still fumbling through the routine. We were completely out of sync and tripping over each other. The more I pointed out his mistakes and tried to correct them, the more frustrated he got. In turn, causing him to make more mistakes. I really wasn’t trying to pick on him, instead trying to stay focused on the choreography since we had cameras on us. 

For the first time ever, we started bickering. The escalating tension was evident and only encouraged the camera crew to stick around longer than they normally would have. We were slowly turning into a ticking time bomb, arguing about everything aside from what we really needed to talk about. 

It all finally came to a head as we practiced a lift. He didn’t lean his head back like he was supposed to as he hoisted me upward, which resulted in him getting knocked in the face by my knee. It wasn’t the first time I had accidentally hit him in some way while dancing, but it was the first time he almost dropped me because of it. 

He scrambled to catch me just before my face smacked the ground, managing to gain control at the last second and set me down carefully as he let out a loud groan. His mic pack came unclipped from his waistband and banged against the floor next to my head as he turned away rubbing at his lower back. I reacted quickly, knocking it away before it swung at me. It was still hanging from the cord, dragging behind Dieter as he walked in a wide circle, pushing through whatever pain he was feeling. 

“Are you ok?” I asked.

His eyes cut toward me, anger flashing in them in a way I had never seen. “No, I’m not fucking OK. I almost dropped you and I think I pulled something.” 

His harsh tone made me flinch, surprising me more than anything. I watched as he turned to continue his pacing, then nearly tripped over the mic pack that was still trailing after him. He was clearly at his limit as he reached for the cord to lift the pack into his hand. Then he shocked us all by yanking the wire loose from his shirt and slung the whole thing toward the wall with enough force that it broke into several pieces. He promptly turned on his heel, muttering obscenities as he walked through the double doors, leaving us all in stunned silence. 

All eyes eventually turned to me. I sucked in a sharp breath, realizing that the whole incident had been caught on camera. Fuck. 

One of the crew asked me what was going on. So, I gave the best lie I could come up with in the moment. I shrugged, “We’ve been going nonstop for nine weeks. We’re tired, we’re old, and everything hurts. It’s just taking its toll.”

I finally stood from where I had been sitting on the floor, “I’ll go check on him.” 

They moved to follow me, but I stopped them, reaching to remove my mic pack. “No. It’s better if you don’t come. Just…lemme talk to him in private, please.” 

They relented, hanging back as I moved out to the hallway. I glanced around, but didn’t see him. His phone was still lying in the studio, so I didn’t think he had left. I decided to check outside, which is where I found him leaning against the side of his car. He had one arm wrapped around his torso, the elbow of the other propped on it as he rubbed at the crease between his brows. His entire body looked tense, coiled tight and waiting to explode. 

I approached him cautiously, not even really sure of what to say because this obviously wasn’t about the rehearsal. I settled on, “Is your back OK?” 

He scoffed, “Yeah…but I can’t do this. I can’t keep doing this. It’s too much for me.”

I sighed, “So, what? You’re just gonna quit?”

He shrugged, “It would be better than torturing myself.”

I felt like he had just knocked the wind out of me. I shook my head, “No, I’ll just ask to have someone replace me. You deserve to finish.”

He was shaking his head now as he stared at the ground, “No. I’m never dancing with anyone else. I can’t.” 

I let out a humorless laugh, “I’m sure it wouldn’t take you long to get over it if you got a new partner. Dancing has a way of doing that.” 

He scoffed, the hint of anger that I saw flash in his eyes earlier was back. “You have no right telling me about my feelings. I know what I’m feeling, and I know it’s real. You’re a hypocrite and a coward for believing otherwise.”

It was my turn to scoff, “Excuse me? How the hell am I a hypocrite and coward for trying to be honest with you about where I’m at emotionally?” 

He gave me a deadpan stare, “Are you fucking serious right now? You preach about believing people can change and giving them second chances when you won’t even give me the first one. You’re too fucking scared to even try. Meanwhile you gave that abusive asshole how many chances? And I can’t even get one to prove myself to you. I’m never gonna treat you the way he did. I care about you too much to do that.”

I stood with my mouth agape, not even sure how to respond. He wasn’t wrong, I hadn’t really given him a chance. And deep down, I knew my choices were being driven by fear, but that didn’t mean my worries were any less legitimate. 

“Dieter…it’s not that simple. This is complicated for me…and I just need…”

“I’m in love with you,” he blurted out in a rush. 

“time…what?” I was convinced I heard him wrong. 

His dark watery gaze was almost owlish as he stared at me, “I said, I’m in love with you…Kat.”

I felt paralyzed by his words. I couldn’t move. I couldn’t speak. I just stood there peering up at him in disbelief. He looked deflated when I didn’t say anything in return, and it crushed me. I wanted to scream the same sentiment from the roof tops, but I was too fucking scared. Admitting to those feelings was giving him too much control. It would mean that I was letting him in. All the way. And I still wasn’t sure if I was ready for that.  

He took a step toward me, his eyes boring into mine as he continued. “You can choose not to believe me if you want…but I need you to know that’s where I’m at. I’ve never said those words to anyone in my life. No one has ever made me feel this way. That’s how I know it’s real. It’s not some bullshit on set hookup. It never was. I knew you were it for me at the beginning of our first rehearsal and that’s never gonna change.” 

I could feel the tears pooling in my eyes. I wanted to close the distance between us, tell him I was sorry and wrong and beg him to forget everything I had said, but I couldn’t. The fear was still holding me back and somehow escalating to crippling levels with his words. 

When I still didn’t respond, any remaining hope he had seemed to fade from his eyes. The crease between his brows was deeper than I had ever seen as his lips set into a tight line with a slight downward turn. He nodded, seeming to take my lack of response as his answer. 

He reached into his pocket for his keys as he turned, opening the car door to get inside. I somehow managed to catch my breath and find my voice, “No, wait. I…just need time, OK? That’s all I’m asking for.”

He paused and sighed, not bothering to look my way as he responded. “If that’s all you can say to me right now, then I think I know where I stand. I just wish you would admit it.” 

I shook my head as the tears fell freely, “Dieter…no. That’s not…”

He didn’t even let me finish before he got into the car, shutting the door and starting the ignition without another glance in my direction. I could see the pain etched on his face as he backed out of the parking space and disappeared from my sight.

Without warning, a sob burst from my chest. I was fucking this up so badly and I didn’t even fully understand why. He was doing everything right. He made me happy. I felt safe with him. We were amazing together. Yet, I was still holding back. His past did worry me, but he hadn’t given me any reason to doubt that he had changed. He couldn’t help that his past behavior lingered in the minds of others who now judged him incorrectly. I knew that, yet I was still letting it warp my feelings about who he was now. I knew most of this confusion and fear was being caused by Alec. I may have removed him from my life, but he was still controlling it - controlling me. I hated myself for allowing it. 

Once I finally pulled myself together the best I could, I had to go back inside and tell the film crew we were done for the day. Internally I was fuming because I knew Stacia and Joe would find out about everything that just happened before I even stepped foot inside my house this evening. 

I didn’t linger, I was packed up and out the door before the film crew. I realized Dieter had indeed left his phone, so I grabbed it to take with me. When I got home, I unlocked it to find Evan’s number so I could let him know that I had it. I was surprised to discover that the wallpaper was a picture of me cuddling Zee. It was one I hadn’t seen. I wasn’t even sure when he had taken it. It had me feeling teary eyed all over again. 

(More good stuff after the images. Click to enlarge.)

I opened his contacts, shocked that he didn’t have many numbers saved. He wasn’t lying when he said he cleaned out his phone. It only took me a second to scroll down to Evan’s name to get his number. 

After firing off a text to Evan, I opened Dieter’s photo app. I knew I shouldn’t, but curiosity got the best of me. He had an album called ‘Things to Remember’ that jumped out at me. It had random screenshots of quotes and recipes. There were also pictures of his Oscar, plants, Zee, and me. So many pictures of me that I didn’t know he had taken. It made me feel warm, causing my heart to race. 

I wondered why he had these specific pictures in this album. Then I realized, aside from the quotes and recipes, it was a collection of moments he wanted to remember as they were - as he saw them. Just quick snaps of time to hold onto, almost like he expected them to disappear. Or like he needed a reminder that they were real. I wondered what he thought about when he looked at them. Did each one stir a specific emotion that he didn’t want to forget? It was the only thing that made sense.

Some of the pictures seemed so random. The first that stood out was me lying snuggled in his bed with my bare back exposed and bathed in sunlight, hair fanned out around my head. There was another of me in the kitchen, wearing nothing but his t-shirt as I made dinner. Another of me deep in concentration as I worked to carefully prune one of his plants. There were so many of me and Zee. I couldn’t help smiling as I looked through them, each one a reminder of how happy he made me. This was what I needed to focus on. Not all the static and noise from everyone else. 

I turned my attention to screenshots of quotes. A couple of them made my heart clench in my chest. Especially the two most recent ones that were dated from the previous day. 

“The sensitive suffer more; but they love more, and dream more.”

“I wanted you to see the mess and still find me worthy of love, to tell me that you could still love me anyway.”

I sighed, wiping away a few stray tears as I locked Dieter’s phone and put it on the table. Of all the ways I could have hurt him, this was the worst one. I wasn’t even sure if I could fix it if I wanted to. 

A short time later, I received a text from Evan saying he would be by to pick up Dieter’s phone and drop off some of my things. The thought of Dieter removing traces of me from his home hurt. I couldn't blame him though. I probably would have done the same if I were him. Especially if he was hurting as badly as I now realized he was. 

When I opened the door, Evan didn’t greet me. Instead, he pursed his lips and narrowed his eyes. I gave him a nervous smile and motioned for him to come inside. He came halfway into the entryway before spinning on his heel, holding out a tote bag in offering.

“Dieter wanted me to drop this stuff off. He thought you might need it while wallowing in self-pity...” He paused, gasping dramatically before continuing. “I mean…he didn’t say that last part. I did. Except I’m not allowed to talk to you about it.”  

I gave him a tight smile, “I probably deserved that. It’s fine.” 

His eyes surveyed me from head to toe before he finally said, “You look as shitty as he does. I don’t understand what happened…why it’s still happening… Can’t we just apologize to each other and live happily ever after? Because I need happy Dieter back. Sad Dieter is a pain in the ass to deal with.” 

I could see why Dieter liked Evan. He really was no nonsense and had a way with words. I guess you have to when you’ve essentially been Dieter Bravo’s babysitter for half his life. 

I sighed, “I’m sorry you're stuck in the middle of this. This isn’t…It’s not what I intended to happen. I really just wanted to press pause so I could have a minute to think…to process everything that’s happened…to make sure what we’re feeling is real.”

I moved to sit on the couch. Evan trailed behind and joined me. His face was empathetic as he took in my words.

“Dieter isn’t wrong. I’m scared. I’m feeling a lot of things, and I don’t really know how to process it all. A lot of it is new…and after what I’ve been through with my ex, it’s hard…to…I dunno. Let someone else in? I guess? I’m not really sure. I’m still trying to understand it myself.” 

Evan rubbed at the tops of his thighs and sighed, “Well, since I’m not supposed to discuss any of this with you, I definitely didn’t tell you that he’ll forgive you and that he does understand that part. Not that we’ve had in-depth conversations about it or anything…”

I gave him a sad smile. He really was just as ridiculous as Dieter sometimes. 

He paused, pulling his lips back as he sucked air through his teeth. “I’m also not telling you that it’s ok to worry about his sobriety and past behavior. It’s a natural human response, especially with his history. I do it every day. I saw his slow spiral and I’ve seen him at his worst. So, I feel like I can confidently say that he has changed. I see it…this is his best…and I worry less and less about it as time goes on. He’s committed now and he’s been doing so fucking good. I have no doubt that if you continue to be in his life, I’d never have to worry again. I’ve never seen him like this…with anyone. Trust me when I say that man is devoted to you in every way. You won’t have to worry about him sliding back into his old ways.”

The tears were falling again. This really was something I needed to hear. It helped smother my dumpster fire of thoughts just a little bit. I also didn’t feel as guilty for letting those things get to me. 

“Thank you, Evan. That does hold some weight coming from you. I appreciate you not telling me.” 

He smiled, “Can I give you a hug? I feel like you need a hug.”

I laughed, a genuine laugh and nodded. He gave me a real hug. Not a measly lean in and pat on the back. It was firm and warm, the kind that friends share. I was thankful for it. 

When he pulled away, he cleared his throat. “Now, I am supposed to tell you that Dieter will be at rehearsal tomorrow. After a mini meltdown he called Lenny and begged to leave the show, but Lenny won’t let him…Actually, I wasn’t supposed to tell you that part. Whatever. Anyway, he’ll be at rehearsal. I hope you two can figure this out. Call me if you need anything, yeah? Even if it’s to not talk about any of this.” 

I gave him another sad smile as he picked up Dieter’s phone from the table and stood to leave. It hurt to know that Dieter did try to get out of the show, but at least we still had time to figure things out. 

After all, time was the only thing I was asking for. 

Dieter’s POV

This week had been literal hell for me. I spent Monday night blaming myself. I knew that something was going on with Kat. I could sense her pulling away. I had told myself not to push her and to give her space, only offering support when she needed it. In the past, that had worked. It had been what she wanted. So, I stayed the course this time, trusting that she would talk to me about whatever was bothering her when she was ready. That’s where I had gone wrong. I should have pushed harder. Perhaps if I had, she wouldn’t have spiraled in such an epic way. 

I never would have dreamed that she had reached the point of effectively ending things in this way. She said she needed time, but her reasoning for it was a punch to the gut. It hurt like hell to know that she didn’t believe in me, especially after the bullshit she said about believing in second chances. Sure, I’ve had my fair share of second chances as far as my career, and let’s be real - continuing to be alive. Kat hadn’t even given me the first chance though. Not really. She had decided to nope out of it before I even had a chance to fuck things up. The worst part was, I couldn’t really blame her. I never felt worthy of her. Deep down I knew it was too good to last. 

And just like that, my self-hatred spiral was back in force. After staying up most of the night I decided that I could manage it and push through. Put a pause on things like she asked and go back to being professional for the sake of the show and my career. My resolve was already faltering when I left for our production meeting on Tuesday. I ended up driving in circles around the studio for at least twenty minutes before I dug up the courage to park and go inside. The timing ended up working out, being called to the conference room as soon as I walked in the door. 

If I had come early and been forced to make small talk with Kat beforehand, I wouldn’t have made it through the meeting. I barely made it through as it was. I couldn’t even bring myself to look at her without nearly bursting into tears. Having to sit next to her and hear her voice was bad enough. 

When the meeting was over, I exited the room like the building was on fire, but not before catching a quick glimpse of Kat. I realized she looked just as tired and broken as I did. I wanted nothing more than to scoop her up and tell her it would be OK, but I knew that wouldn’t go over well. Truth be told, I didn’t know how to act around her now. I was never going to be able to pick up where we left off before New York. It was impossible. Too much had happened between us for that. Those thoughts only seemed to ramp up my anxiety about the situation and turned me into a wound up, bumbling mess. I knew I couldn’t go to rehearsal like that. I tried, but I couldn’t do it. I felt like such an idiot over the whole thing. 

With great effort, I somehow managed to get it together enough to show up for rehearsal on Wednesday. Though I probably would have been better off not going. Things between Kat and I were tense. Broken. We absolutely could not get on the same page. I knew most of it was my fault because I couldn’t focus. It hurt too much to be near her. I couldn’t even look at her directly without my bottom lip quivering like a fucking child. 

It didn’t take long for the frustration to set in. I was slowly falling apart, and I knew it. The more I tried to get it together the worse things got, and it was pissing me off. That frustration reached a boiling point while we were filming on Thursday. I almost dropped Kat. If I had, she surely would have gotten hurt, which made me hate myself even more for how ridiculous I was being. She almost got hurt, because of me. It was just too much. 

Looking back, I wasn’t proud of how I reacted in that moment. Somehow the old Dieter busted loose from his confines and decided to show his ass for a minute. That’s when I knew that I needed to step away. I was slipping. 

I wish I had just left as soon as I went to the car. I knew Kat would come looking for me. I knew she would confront me. What I hadn’t expected was my sudden outburst telling her how deep my feelings really were. It wasn’t the time for it, but I think part of me thought it would make her realize that I was all in for this. Maybe she would see how ridiculous she was being and say everything was going to be OK, but that’s not what happened. She just stood there staring at me like I had three heads and said nothing. 

I felt like I had made an ass of myself. I regretted it the second the words left my mouth. However, there was some part of me that was happy it was out there now. At least she knew where I stood, and she could do with it as she pleased. The fact that she didn’t seem to reciprocate the sentiment was hitting me hard though. I would have been better off not knowing. 

What happened after that wasn’t my proudest moment. I drove to Evan’s house and essentially had a meltdown on his couch. He did not know how to handle that situation because it was a first. Realizing I had left my phone at the studio, I made him call Lenny so I could beg him to get me off the show. I offered to fake an injury if need be. I wasn’t above it at this point. Lenny’s response was that I needed to put my big boy panties on and that I needed to learn to deal with the consequences of my actions and stop dipping my dick where I work. He wasn’t wrong, but this was different. It was Kat. Not some random hookup. 

Evan followed me home after that and put up with my manic frenzy to gather up Kat’s things so that they were out of sight. I couldn’t handle seeing the traces of her in my house. It hurt too much. I needed a clean slate so I could reset. Otherwise, I knew I wasn’t going to be able to do this. 

Kat had apparently texted Evan to let him know she had my phone. I shoved him out the door with a bag of her things and gave explicit instructions not to discuss any of this with her while he was there to get my phone. He looked completely exasperated as I slammed the door in his face. 

I stayed up pretty much the entire night, alternating between snuggling Zee, plant care, and painting. I couldn’t shut my mind off and felt the need to keep busy, so I didn’t turn to darker methods of coping. I finally fell asleep as the sun was rising, but it wasn’t for long because I had rehearsal. 

I slept through my alarm and ended up being an hour late. I was in a bad mood as I made my way into the studio, firing off a quick bullshit response about scheduling conflicts to Dr. Smith’s questions about why I was a no show for my therapy session this week. 

When I entered the studio, Kat looked torn between being pissed and empathetic. I knew I looked like shit. I hadn’t even bothered to wash all the paint off my hands before I left the house. She looked like she was about to say something that I wasn’t really in the mood to hear, so I cut her off before she could get the words out.

“Let’s just stick to the topic of dance, please. I don’t think we really need to discuss anything else at this point.” 

I still couldn’t look at her, not directly. It was torture. Instead, I looked past her, focusing on the wall at the back of the room as she nodded. We got to it after that. I somehow managed to shut my mind off, going completely numb as we worked in mostly silence. The only words shared between us were about the routine. 

Saturday and Sunday rehearsals went pretty much the same way, except I somehow managed to show up on time. Not that I was feeling any better or was able to get any rest. I was just going through the motions. Existing really. Shutting everything off was the only way I could get through this without turning to old habits.

That doesn’t mean that I didn’t feel the distance growing between Kat and me. I felt it every second of the day. I knew she felt it too. I could see it in the way she looked at me in those few instances I managed a quick glance at her face. It was weighing on her, but I reasoned that it was because of how hard I was taking it. Not because she loved me back. 

Monday, I woke up feeling anxious, not knowing how the day was going to go. I knew this show day was going to be different and I was dreading it. I arrived at the studio at my usual time. Kat was there as well, which meant we were first to go through camera blocking. It was obvious that we were still not on the same page, both of us making several mistakes on each run through. When we were finished, she gave me a few pointers. Then she disappeared. I assumed she went to her dressing room or maybe to do her final costume fitting. 

It felt strange not having her by my side. Others seemed to notice her absence as well, giving me odd glances as I passed by. The whispers started when I showed up for hair and makeup alone. No one would ask me directly, but I could hear the hushed murmurs wondering where Kat was. It definitely didn’t help my sour mood and I’m sure the scowl on my face was only fueling it further. It was a ruthless cycle. 

After having a quick costume fitting, I headed to the main ballroom for our dress rehearsal. It was the first time I had seen Kat since camera blocking. We had somehow managed to successfully avoid each other all morning. She looked beautiful as always, wearing some sort of pink fringe thing that looked amazing against her glowing skin. Her face told another story though. She looked tired and sad. I was suddenly worried she hadn’t been taking care of herself like she should. I hated myself all over again for being the reason behind it if that were the case. 

I walked over to stand next to her, waiting for our turn. She briefly glanced up at me before turning her gaze downward toward the floor. I inhaled deeply, trying to keep my composure. Everything about this felt wrong and I hated it. 

Minutes later, we were called up to go through our routine. On the first run through, I took a wrong step and nearly tripped over her. They made us start over. The second run through went a little better, but the minor mistakes were still happening. We were both making them. This led to more whispers among the cast as we exited the ballroom. 

We both went back to our respective dressing rooms after that. Kat walked ahead of me, not looking back as she closed the door behind her. I rubbed at my face, puffing air out of my cheeks as I passed her door to go to mine. This really was fucking torture. 

I sat alone in my dressing room after that. I felt lonelier than I ever had, to the point that it was making me sick. This space didn’t feel the same without Kat in it. There was a layer of nervousness there too. I knew this performance would not be one of our best. The competition was down to six couples. It’s not like we had a lot of room to be fucking up at this point. I knew this could be the one that got us voted off the show. Part of me almost welcomed that outcome so that I could get away from the stress of it all. The other part worried it would be the last time I would see Kat and didn’t want it to end. 

Before I knew it, we were being called to the staging area for the show to start. I found a spot to watch the show from, trying not to pay attention to the odd looks as I stood alone. I eventually sensed Kat’s presence. She appeared beside me, arms hugging her body as she watched the opening performance. The air felt charged between us, but not in the same way it usually was. It felt thick and suffocating. It made it hard to catch my breath. For the first time in weeks, I found myself wanting alcohol, just so I could get through this. I hated myself for it. 

We were soon called to take our places as this weeks behind the scenes footage played on the screens. They were definitely playing up the drama I had caused. I hadn’t really considered how that was going to look to the audience or thought of a response if asked about it. It made my anxiety ramp up just a little bit more. For the first time in days, I met Kat’s gaze fully and held it as we took our places. I could see the worry in her eyes. She knew this wasn’t going to go well as much as I did. 

And it didn’t. 

There were no smiles between us as we danced. Just concentration and disappointment as we powered through our screw ups. We had a hard time staying in sync, even getting off rhythm a couple of times. It wasn’t a terrible performance, but it wasn’t a week 9 performance. I looked like a rookie in my first week with messy footwork and bad timing. 

When we finished, all I could do was shake my head and let out a controlled breath as I followed Kat over to the interview area. They of course asked me what was going on this week. I followed Kat’s explanation of being old and tired and tried to laugh it off. The judges were not impressed. They tore the performance apart and expressed their disappointment, making sure to let us know this wasn’t the time to drop the ball because the remaining couples are going to be tough to beat even when we were performing at a high level. My stomach sank, convinced that tonight would be our last night. They gave us two sixes and two sevens, which was higher than I was expecting. However, it was the lowest score of the night. 

Through all of this, Kat stood silently beside me with her hands clasped in front of her. Her eyes seemed to be fixed on something in the distance. She looked like she was completely disassociating. After they read off our scores, she crossed in front of me to exit the stage, pinching the bridge of her nose as she went. My chin dropped to my chest as I followed behind her. 

Production Control Room

The production control room was buzzing with activity as the staff worked to certify audience and viewer votes before time to announce the bottom three couples. Stacia and Joe sit impatiently waiting for the results. Both are frustrated by the turn of events with Dieter and Kat. While the drama from rehearsals was definitely setting social media ablaze with speculation, they knew there was a real danger their star couple could be voted off the show after such a lacking performance. When the results are handed over to the two executive producers, they are shocked, but relieved to find that Dieter and Kat placed third in the group of six. 

Stacia sinks back into her seat in relief but is contemplative as she eyes Joe. She begins writing the results down on the card that is to be delivered to the host, but Joe grabs her hand to stop her progress as he gives her a pointed look. “What are you doing? We agreed to never tamper with the results…”

She sighed, “It’s not really tampering. The bottom two will still be the same. I just need to give them a little wakeup call so that they get their shit together. Another week of this and they’re gone…and fucking Alec will still be here. What do you think that’ll do to ratings? Especially if word ever gets out about what he actually did to her...”

Joe pulled his hand back, staring at Stacia in thought before nodding for her to continue. Stacia finishes writing in Dieter and Kat’s name and passes the card off to a production assistant to run the results down to the host. 

Now all they can do is sit back and wait to see if this play has the intended effect. 

Dieter’s POV

When we were called to the stage for the bottom three announcement, I could hear my heart pounding in my ears. I didn’t have a good feeling about this. We ended the night with the lowest score from the judges. The only hope I had left was that the Dieterina Stans voted to keep us around for a little longer, but I wasn’t confident about it. 

As the host began calling off the couples that were safe, I could feel my anxiety going up another notch with each name that wasn’t ours. Before I knew it, they were announcing the names of the bottom three couples - which included Kat and me. Then they cut to commercial break. I had to work double time to keep myself from falling apart. I knew this wouldn’t just be the end of our time together on the show, but maybe even the end of whatever I was trying to work toward. She would have no reason to see me after this. She might not want to. 

In the midst of my internal spiral, I felt a hand slide against my arm. I glanced down to see Kat’s fingers lacing through mine. I peered over at her, she was staring at me with tears in her eyes. I had to look away, or else I was going to lose it. That didn’t stop me from giving her hand a reassuring squeeze as the on air indicator flickered back to life. I wasn’t sure what it meant, but it gave me some hope that maybe this wasn’t over. 

We stood tightly gripping each other's hands as we waited for the next name to be called. I held my breath, damn near passing out before they finally called out our name as being safe. Kat and I both let out a sigh of relief, both of us smiling in each other’s presence for the first time in a week. 

As we exited the stage, Kat seemed to get emotional. I asked her if she was OK, but she waved me off as she exited to the hallway. I raked a hand down my face, unsure of how to proceed after the moment we had just shared on stage. I decided to follow after her, assuming she had gone to her dressing room, but she wasn’t there. 

I sighed, as I looked around the hallway that was slowly filling with cast members. She was nowhere in sight. So, I decided to go to my dressing room and wait. After changing out of my costume, I hung it outside the door for pickup and purposefully left the door open so that Kat would know I was here. 

I was packing up my bag when movement by the door caught my attention. Any excitement that I might have had was quickly deflated when my eyes locked with Anika’s as she came sashaying into the room like a predator ready to pounce on prey. 

I sighed, “Anika, is there something I can help you with?”

Her lips curled upward as she spoke in a sickly sweet voice, “I just wanted to see how you were doing after that. Seems like you had a rough night.” 

My brows furrowed, “I’m fine. It’s not a big deal.” 

She moved to stand in front of me with a look of concern, “Are you sure? You seemed pretty upset out there. I thought maybe we could go grab some dinner and talk about it.”

Fuck. Here we go. I gave her a tight lipped smile, “That’s nice of you to offer, but I’m waiting for Kat.” 

She gasped, seeming shocked. “Really? Well, I saw Kat leave.” 

My face fell. There was no hiding my disappointment. I realized maybe I was an idiot for hoping. The hurt and pain at that realization settled into my chest and squeezed hard. Anika moved in closer, placing her hand on my arm. I stared at it, not really sure how to react. 

“You know, we could just go back to my place and hang out…if you need a distraction.” 

Her hand began to slide up my arm just as I raised my head to meet her gaze, “Huh?” 

She was smiling again as her hand settled on the back of my neck, “You know, something to take your mind off things…off Kat. I can make you dinner…or do other things…” 

There were a few seconds that I actually considered the offer - suddenly craving the rush and distraction I knew it would give me, but I quickly dismissed it because I’m no longer that person. I gave her a crooked smile and laughed nervously, tilting my head back as she suddenly leaned in, her hand pulling my head forward as she crashed her lips against mine. Everything about it felt so wrong. I honestly felt like I was going to be sick as I pushed her away just in time to see Kat’s back walking toward the exit. 

“Fuck,” I huffed out in frustration. “You know what Anika, I’ve tried being nice and letting you down easy…but I’m just gonna say it. I’m not interested. Not now. Not ever. So, I’m going to need you to leave this room and never step foot in it again.” 

She scoffed, “Geez, you don’t have to be such an asshole about it.”

I let out a humorless laugh, “Well, you’ve caught me at a bad time, and you just royally fucked things up for me. So imma need you to go. Now.” 

I watched her stomp out of the room. Once she was gone, I ran toward the exit to find Kat, but she was nowhere in sight. I leaned back against the exterior wall, trying my hardest to keep it together. There was no coming back from this and I knew it. I knew how that had to look. Kat would never believe anything I had to say. 

An hour later, I found myself seated at the bar of a local tavern, staring at a full tumbler sitting between my hands. I was officially at the end of my rope and heading for a spiral if I didn’t pull it together within the next few minutes. As I moved to take a sip from the glass, someone sat down beside me. 

“I really hope I’m not about to witness Dieter Bravo fall off the wagon.” 

I paused just before putting the glass to my lips and turned to find the last person I ever expected sitting beside me. Lana. She had a sly smile on her face as she eyed me. 

“I know you had a bad night, but I promise that shitshow is not worth compromising yourself over.” 

My lips tugged upward as I sat the glass down, I couldn’t help it. “It’s ironic that you’re the one coming to my rescue. You’re not trying to fuck me too, are you?”

She snorted out a laugh, “Absolutely not. What kind of person do you take me for? I’m not a cheater.” 

There was something almost sarcastic in her tone. It took me by surprise. “Speaking of cheaters, where’s Alec? Do I need to be concerned about my safety?”

Her face fell slightly, “No, you don’t need to worry about that. Not tonight. I’m sure he’s off fucking someone else for the evening, which suits me just fine. He’s a shitty lay.” 

I chuckled, “Yeah, I’ve heard. So, all is not well in paradise I take it?”

Lana rolled her eyes, “It was never paradise. I’m just doing the job I was hired to do. As soon as the show’s over, I’m heading to London for filming with hopes of never laying eyes on Alec Balaska again.” 

I never thought it possible, but Lana Thompson officially had my full attention. My drink was forgotten as I turned to face her fully, “What do you mean the job you were hired to do?”

She had a grin on her face that could rival the Cheshire cat, “Dieter, surely you know there are strings being pulled behind the scenes?”

I nodded, “Of course, but I don’t actually know the details…”

The bartender came by, and Lana took a moment to ask for a glass of water, which shocked me. Then she turned to me, leaning in slightly before she spoke.

“Obviously you can’t breathe a word of this to anyone because if Alec finds out…well…I’d rather not be on the receiving end of that. Anyway, there was a last minute scramble with casting when you insisted on being partnered with Kat. The only reason they let it happen was because I agreed to make moves to split Kat and Alec up. They paid me extra for it. I mean…fucking the guy wasn’t part of the deal, but it was the only way I could get any sway over him. I had originally planned the paparazzi pictures out, so he would look like the asshole and not Kat. I hadn’t planned on her seeing what she saw. I do actually feel like shit about that…”

I was stunned by this news. It was completely unexpected. “Why did you need him to look like the asshole?”

She chuckled, “Isn’t it obvious? They wanted to clear the way for you and Kat to get together without any backlash. You two are the fan favorites this season. It was apparent from the first week. They’re giving the audience what they want…a love story where the underdog gets his shit together and gets the girl, along with amazing dancing. The way I see it, I did you two a favor. I was happy to do it too. Kat deserves better than what she had. He was an asshole to her.”  

I stared at her for a beat, trying to process everything she was saying. I should probably be  mad over the lengths Stacia and Joe were going to in order to manipulate us all, but I couldn’t be. The chance to have Kat in my life was a win in my book, but I had totally fucked it up. 

“So, you're OK being labeled a homewrecker then?” I asked. 

She gave me a sad smile, “You know how it is, especially when your career is on the downward slope…even bad press is good press. Besides, if anyone cares to ask me…he told me that he and Kat were over. How was I supposed to know he was lying?”

She shrugged with a mischievous glint in her eye. I laughed, “Ahh, well played then.” 

The bartender set the glass of water down in front of Lana. She took a small sip before turning her attention back to me. “So, what’s going on with you and Kat? From the looks of it after New York, I thought everything was going well.” 

I sighed, “I’m not even really sure. She asked to put a pause on things until the show is over. I guess it was too much, too fast. I mean, we did just kind of jump into it. She sort of insinuated that she’s having a hard time with my past, like maybe…she doesn’t trust that I’ve fully changed. I thought she was the one person who was giving me a fair shot, ya know? It really hurt to hear it from her. So, I guess we’re just trying to sort through our feelings.”

Lana’s lips set into a tight line, “Have you told her how you really feel though? Or are you being the typical idiot male and dancing around the topic of big feelings.”

My brows furrowed, “Excuse me?”

She laughed, “Have you told her you love her?”

I blinked at her a few times, “Who ever said that I’m…”

She rolled her eyes, “Fucking hell. Both of you are idiots. It’s obvious. Everyone can see it. You both do a shit job at hiding it.”

I puffed air out of my cheeks, “Yeah, I guess you’re right. I’ve been told that a couple of times…But to answer your question…yes. I sort of told her in the middle of my meltdown earlier this week. It wasn’t my best moment. I admit, the delivery could have been better.”

Her perfectly sculpted brow arched, “And? What did she say?”

I laughed humorlessly, “She didn’t really say anything. She just stared at me.” 

She snickered, “You two really are idiots...Look, it probably took her off guard. Stunned her a bit…especially if her head is a mess of emotions. I’ll be honest, I don’t know how bad things got between her and Alec, but I do know she was making him go to therapy, anger management, and AA meetings. Now, he wasn’t actually going because he doesn’t care enough to fix himself…but if she was making him do all that, I know it had to be bad. They were together for a long time. Being with someone like that for that long…it’s a serious mind fuck. It makes you doubt yourself…doubt your worth. I’ve been where she’s at, so I get it. I don’t think it’s so much about you not changing as it is about her feeling like she’s not enough to make you happy. And when addicts aren’t happy…what do they do? Go back to old habits. She’s been made to feel like she’s a burden and unworthy of being loved…like she’s the problem. I don’t really know anything about your past, but given your chosen coping mechanisms, I’d wager that you know a thing or two about that?”

I nodded, letting her words settle in. I hadn’t really considered things from this angle even though I should have given my past. It somehow made the hurt I was feeling less painful because I realized Kat was hurting in her own way too. In a way that I completely understood. After talking with Evan, I realized a lot of this was because of Alec, but I had been missing the most crucial parts. 

“It’s possible that Kat is struggling to understand what she’s feeling. Being abused physically, emotionally…it really warps your sense of self. It’s confusing and it takes some time to work through. I think if you can be strong enough to give her the space to do that, she’ll come around. In the meantime, be there for her. Support her. Show her how you’re really feeling…don’t make it more complicated than it needs to be because at the end of the day…it has nothing to do with you.”

Fuck me. Lana was right. I was handling this completely wrong. I sat staring at the full tumbler in front of me again, suddenly feeling lost and unsure of how to proceed.

Lana took another sip of water before smiling, “You know…you probably don’t remember this. We worked on a movie together many moons ago. I was just starting out…playing a barista for one scene. I remember being completely repulsed by you that day…you were such a fucking ass.”

My gaze shifted back to her, my brows furrowing as I searched my memories. I shook my head, “I’m sorry, I don’t remember this...”

She laughed quietly, “No, I don’t think you would. I’m pretty sure you were stoned out of your mind. You told me to go get you a coffee during a break. I think you called me ‘sugar tits’ somewhere in the middle of that demand too? Then I told you to go fuck yourself. Another crude joke followed. You had completely forgotten about the interaction by the time the film was rolling again.” 

I rubbed at the crease between my brows, “Yeah…I know I was a dick back then. I’m really sorry…”

She cut me off, “I’m not looking for an apology. My point is…I see you. I’ve been on the periphery of your spiral for years…I’ve seen it at parties, at award shows…you’re not that person anymore. Anyone who can’t see that is fucking blind or they just don’t care to. I can tell you’ve turned into a good person. Someone worthy of Kat, so don’t let those doubts get to you, OK?”

I felt a lump forming in my throat. Of all people, Lana fucking Thompson got it. The whole situation. I had to clear the lump before I could speak, “I actually appreciate that. Thank you.” 

She smiled, “Now, Imma need you to go get your girl and fix this. Please. I’m a massive Dieterina Stan and I cannot stand to witness this mess any longer.” 

I barked out a laugh but quickly sobered. “That may be easier said than done. I really fucked up tonight. I doubt she’s ever gonna speak to me again.” 

Her brows knitted together, “What the fuck did you do now?”

I sighed, “Anika invited herself into my dressing room after the show and kissed me. The door was wide open, so I’m pretty sure Kat saw it. After I pushed Anika off, I saw Kat walking away.” 

Lana gasped, “Fucking Anika. I swear she is nothing but trouble.” She shook her head, seeming deep in thought for a moment. “Look, just…do what I said. Kat will come around. I know it. This thing with Anika will sort itself out.” 

I gave a dismissive laugh, “Yeah…I guess we’ll see about that.” 

She gave me a pointed look, “Yeah, we will. Now…you need to get out of this place before it ends up all over TMZ tomorrow. As a matter of fact…”

She reached for the tumbler in front of me, then put it to her lips and took a big gulp of it. She jerked it away from her mouth as her face scrunched up in disgust, “Ugh, what the fuck is that?”

I shrugged as I held in my smile, “Cranberry juice.” 

She gave me an admonishing look, “You could have warned me…and here I was thinking it was some sort of mixed cocktail.”

I snickered, “It wouldn’t have been funny if I told you.” 

She shook her head, “You may be sober, but the chaos demon lives on…”

I couldn’t help it, I cackled over that. “Ehh, I’m more like a mischief maker these days. The chaos demon was my past life.” 

She laughed as I stood from my seat. “Well, Lana, it’s been…an educational evening. I can’t believe I’m saying this, but I’m happy I ran into you. Thank you.”

She gave me a genuine smile, “Anytime. Let me know if I can help with anything.”

I nodded, giving her a small wave as I made my exit. 

I went home after that, feeling slightly better about things. If only the Anika thing hadn't happened. That was my biggest obstacle at the moment. I laid down on the sofa, welcoming Zee for a cuddle as I considered my options. Once she settled on my chest and began dozing off, I grabbed my phone. I had a text from Marc asking if I was doing OK after how things had gone tonight and offered his ear if I needed to talk. I appreciated the sentiment and told him as much, promising to get together to grab lunch or dinner soon so we could chat. It would be nice to have a distraction for a little while. 

Then I opened Instagram. I was expecting the worst, but I actually had a lot of positive and encouraging comments from fans. It definitely helped the bad mood a little. Then I opened my DMs, realizing I had a message request from someone named Lydia Brown. I was intrigued, so I opened it. 

“Hey Dieter, this is Kat’s sister. If you ever tell her I sent this, I will not speak to you again. 

Anyway, I talked to her earlier right after the show aired. She’s kind of a mess right now, but I want you to know that she is in love with you. She told me as much. She just doesn't know how to process everything right now. Please don’t give up on her. She’s getting there.” 

I huffed out a breath, “Yeah, and I bet you didn’t hear about my latest fuck up yet.” 

I tossed my phone on the coffee table and wrapped my arms around Zee, scooting her up closer to my face so I could bury my nose in her fluffy fur. She groaned in protest but rolled over to rub her head against the scruff of my chin before she began purring. 

I squeezed her a little tighter, “Don’t worry baby girl, Imma figure out how to get your momma back.” 

Next: Week 10

✨ Here is a fun little Jazz video to go along with this depressing chapter that really didn’t focus on dancing at all. It was all about the angst this time. Sorry. 😬 

A/N: Good afternoon/evening my lovelies! I hope you are doing well after all the angst. So much happened in this chapter worth discussing. Our sweet Dieter and Kat are struggling, but they are limping along and trying their best. Are we shocked they were even able to rehearse? Are we shocked they had a shitty performance? 

Speaking of the performance, are we mad that Joe let Stacia fudged the bottom three results? Stacia obviously isn’t a fan of Alec…does that get her any brownie points? 😂 

And then we got Evan and Lydia coming in for a save. Do we think they should be getting in the middle of all this? Also, I love Evan. I just needed to say that. 

Now for the elephant in the room…Lana. How do we all feel about her now? Still hate her? Conflicted? Love her? I need to know your thoughts. 

How do we think this is all going to play out? How is Dieter going to get his woman (and Zee’s momma 🥹) back after that whole Anika debacle? 

Come scream at me about it all! I wanna know your thoughts. 

Coming up in the next chapter…

I know the chapter title says it will be the Quickstep, but I may switch it up to the Lambada, just because. We shall see. 

Kat gets scolded by her sister. 

Kat tends to her plants with thoughts of Dieter on her mind. 

Dieter does another Instagram live

Serious conversations are had

We finally find out what the song was that they danced the Viennese Waltz to

Lastly, In case you missed it... new fic in the works. 

That’s all I’ve got for today. 💜Mysty

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