#and giving up is the only logical choice and maybe they take it! maybe they do act the part for a second. but it's not fucking them

[gdn019283]

Kilgharrah is a dragon that lost his entire species, watched his fellow companions get killed by Uther and by his genocidal reign, and got imprisoned and chained in a cave with no food or water for more than 20 years. He had nothing and no one, but lived through it all by sheer force and the will of revenge. He is a sentient being, with emotions, thoughts, a voice and the most powerful magic the world has ever known (even more powerful than Merlin’s, and we saw it).

Yet, I don’t understand why most people in the Merlin fandom find him the culprit of many of the choices on the show and even of the end.

His kind has been wiped off; he had revenge to think about while being imprisoned. He did not point at Arthur specifically or at Uther, just at the injustice of it all.

But still, he listened to Merlin and respected what he had ordered him to do, even after all he had endured.

People often tend to forget that Merlin is, as much as Gaius, a class traitor, and if we can explain why he is, then why can’t we explain Kilgharrah’s behaviour?

Most choices he told Merlin to make were part of his rational mind, one that had seen various parts of the future. He thought of the ones that made most sense to him and even then, Merlin defied him, so how can he be Kilgharrah’s fault that everything went to shit in the end? The dragon was tired, old, lost and maybe hopeless, but he persisted, he tried giving Merlin what he never had, what even Gaius couldn’t give him:

a space to be actually free; the joy of flying; a good friend who understood what being magic was like, because Kilgarrah is as ancient as the earth itself and magic flows through him too.

He helped Merlin so many times, told him about killing Morgana, because he knew that Merlin had already made a mistake. From then on, the future had changed shape and Kilgharrah saw it. He tried to prevent the worst, but it was Merlin who didn’t listen to him, it was him who said he didn’t want to kill a friend, it was Merlin who said that he couldn’t stand his friends’ grief, it was Merlin who commanded rather than asked Kilgharrah to gift him the power to heal Morgana, and it was actually Gaius who had told Merlin he had done the right thing by trying to kill Morgana (and this is only an example. Merlin did not kill other people when Kilgharrah told him to, so Merlin had something called free will. Every choice was made by him, and the Great Dragon has nothing to do with it).

All Merlin’s points were right, yet, for a dragon who didn’t have the tools to prevent Merlin’s mistakes and choices, he tried to warn him the best way he knew how. Most of the times it was with simple actions that went straight to the point.

If someone has to be at fault, then Merlin has to be at fault too.

I like Kilgharrah.

He is a great character, an example of what genocide can do to you, and he is so funny, so complicated and the fact that they were able to give such a good personality to a dragon warms my heart. He is a listener, he tried helping Merlin even when he couldn’t and was so happy when Aithusa was born.

He wasn’t alone anymore.

Merlin was his friend, because they were the same:

Lonely, and just that tad bit hopeful that a greater future was ahead of them.

Merlin did not fail because of Kilgharrah and to the dragon’s opinion, Merlin actually didn’t fail at all.

What I find unjust in the show isn’t really Arthur’s death. It’s the way we come to it and all the wrong things that happen in between, the non logical way Merlin’s magic worked, but what if Arthur had to die in order for Albion to have its Golden Age?

And perhaps, Kilgharrah knew, but didn’t know how to tell Merlin, much like Merlin couldn’t tell Gaius what he had seen in the Crystal Cave, because the future can take so many different shapes, and it was Merlin who ended up creating it, while he had tired to avoid it and change it, at the same time.

Kilgharrah is an amazing character and I love the shit out of him.

[carlyraejepsans]

see the thing is i keep scrolling past that post that's like "what brand of character always ends up as your blorbo" bc i genuinely couldn't condense any of my favorite characters into a mold that would fit all of them. until i remembered "because, underneath it all, crowley was an optimist" and made a sound like a strangled goose.

[littlemisshyperfixation]

Yoongi Fic Recommendations

a - angst f - fluff s - smut

part 2

Series

In the Margins (a s f) by @bonvoyagenoona ⊹₊⋆ You weren’t sure what he would look like. His writing made you think of a cabin nestled among tall pines, a well-worn cardigan, a scotch neat, and a wistful wisp of smoke seeping into the air from the bowl of an unattended tobacco pipe. What stands before you now is a studio apartment in the city, cigarette butts, coffee stains, and a scowl. There’s definitely been a mistake.

Fix You (f a) by @casuallyimagining ⊹₊⋆ When you take in a stray cat, you have no idea he’s secretly a hybrid trying to escape his past. Can you help him heal?

desolate (a f s) by @angelicyoongie ⊹₊⋆ you just wanted a cute little normal cat to keep you company. so you're not really sure how you ended up with the grumpiest hybrid on earth that seems hellbent on making your life difficult.

One Shots

Set Me Free (a f) by @casuallyimagining ⊹₊⋆ Tired of being told how to live his life and unsure of where he stands in the world, Yoongi--your soulmate--yearns to be free. When you give him what he wants, it causes a rift in your relationship that seems irreparable. 12 years later, you find him back in your life. Can you mend your relationship? Do you even want to?

back-burner (a f s) by @yoonpobs ⊹₊⋆ sometimes you felt like you were the back-burner of a two-decade-long friendship. how could you ever compete?

Love Language (a s f) by @gukslut ⊹₊⋆ Your boyfriend obviously loves you, but his silence has you questioning if he *wants* you. If you could only get past your damn insecurities maybe you could appreciate what you have.

27 Phone Numbers (f) by @bxebxee ⊹₊⋆ Yoongi has gone through twenty-seven phone numbers over the last ten years, and you haven’t changed yours since high school. 

sweetner (f s) by @taegularities ⊹₊⋆ You used to know how he sounded when you were wrapped around him, but circumstances have pulled you apart and sent you scattering in opposite directions. Feelings shouldn't reappear so easily by simple words, but when you find yourselves in the same place once again, this is exactly what happens.

One Chance (f) by @out-of-jams ⊹₊⋆ A musical genius, a guy with a bad reputation, your assigned partner for your final project. And the last thing you ever would have expected.

Seasons Change (a s) by @taetaesbaebaepsae ⊹₊⋆ Min Yoongi and you, through the seasons, break up and come back together. Nobody said love was easy.

All That Holly, Jolly Sh*t (a f s) by @daechwitatamic ⊹₊⋆ You haven’t seen or heard from Yoongi since he broke your heart five years ago, laying out a logical list of reasons why you were better off breaking up. When a Christmas Eve blizzard traps you together for the night, you have no choice but to examine how few of those reasons are still true. And if they’re not… where does that leave you?

Now We Reign (a s f) by @oddinary4bts ⊹₊⋆ when working on a collab together makes you and Min Yoongi seek comfort with the other, you discover there’s more to life than loneliness. Only, hurdles mark your path in Min Yoongi’s life, and it’s unclear what the outcome will be. Will you be destroyed by him and his world, or will you learn to reign over it, together with him?

take five (a f) by @jiminrings ⊹₊⋆ you're min yoongi's nurse and you have a crush on him, and he gives you five chances to ask him out - he never said anything about accepting though.

The Final - Day 02 (s) by @yoongiofmine ⊹₊⋆ You've been Yoongi's go-to companion for the past few years, well aware that's all you were going to be. Despite your very real, growing feelings for the rapper, you took what you could get every time. Now, you're backstage at day two of the final leg of his tour when another member takes an interest in you. Will it be enough to make Yoongi realize he's got competition?

hello soulmate (f) by @bluemari23 ⊹₊⋆ your first day on the job doesn't turn out the exact way you envisioned

Sugar Rush Ride (s) by @lo1k-diamonds ⊹₊⋆ You produced a song based on your hidden desires for your fellow producer and promised yourself that tonight, things would change. You were done pining after him, but then he arrived at the listening party.

fuck being friends (a f s) by @strawberrynamjoon ⊹₊⋆ as if watching the guy you were hopelessly in love with hook up with another girl each weekend wasn’t enough, he also happened to be your best friend, making things extra complicated. and it only gets worse and worse once he finds you crying in the bathroom at a party one night.

Take One (s f) by @untaemedqueen ⊹₊⋆ There are three things which Yoongi was certain of. One, he was a big star in his field of work. Two, he had a huge cock, one to rival many of the largest names in his industry. Three, he can only find pleasure these days in written word. 

Illicit Favors (f s) by @yoongiofmine ⊹₊⋆ When your editor tells you to re-write the chapters of your book because the sex scenes are weak, suggesting you write them from experience, what do you do when you lack any kind of sexual experiences in general? You go to your friend and ask him for help with it.

Bet On It (s) by @minisugakoobies ⊹₊⋆ What's a little wager between enemies? How about if it's your body on the line?

subscribed (s f) by @aquagustd ⊹₊⋆ you find out that youtube isn’t the only site he uses to satisfy his subscribers. what do you do with that information?

[wittlesissyb4by]

Alphabet Soup

She really could steep so low when she was angry. He wasn’t suggesting she was dumb. He was just saying he’s smarter than her. Logically, there’s gotta be one above the other in a relationship, doesn’t there??

Ryan always prided himself on his intelligence. Constantly correcting people’s grammar, inserting a fun fact, discussing philosophy at length, and the only reason people spaced out when he started relaying the Socratic method of question and answer was because they couldn’t possibly match his intellect. But, most importantly, he always had to let Wren know when she was wrong, he couldn’t have her going around embarrassing him with inaccuracies. Just the other day she said there’s “got to be a million mosquitos out tonight”, and obviously there couldn’t possibly be that much. As smart he was, he couldn’t understand why she would get so butthurt about him correcting her in front of all of their friends. 

“You treat me like I’m stupid, Ryan! All the fucking time. I’m a doctor for crying out loud! I may not know everything, but I’m not an idiot!” She was white hot, taking sharp breaths to keep her blood from overheating. “And you know what? Not that it matters or I would ever fucking care, but do you ever think maybe, just maybe, I could know a little bit more than you about certain subjects? Like, everyone has their strengths Ryan…”

She looked at him expectantly, glaring into his soul, could he just admit he was wrong about something for once? Ryan could have kept himself from smiling–if he was just a smidge less smug. “I’m sorry, but in the years we’ve been dating, I just haven’t found something you’re smarter than me at. And if you really believe in hypnosis, you may be dumber than I thought…”

Steam erupted from Wren’s ears.

“Jesus, you are the most arrogant asshole I have ever met!”

“What??” Ryan scoffed exaggeratedly, throwing up his hands as Wren stormed off, “I’m just saying that that hypno bullshit is a bunch of crap! I don’t care how many so called ‘studies’ you try to show me! There’s no way you could possibly think that works!!”

Wren stopped in her tracks, clenching her fists. She wanted to just go into the room, slam the door, and make him sleep on the fucking couch, but she just couldn’t let him win this one. She couldn’t let him even think he had her beat, even if it was just in his own fucked up head. 

Letting out a hefty sigh to maintain her composure, she pivoted on her heels. “How about this…” She said through gritted teeth, “you think you’re sooo smart? Well we’ll see. I’ll bet you that in one month, I can drop your IQ down to less than 20.”

Ryan had no choice but to absolutely guffaw at the proposition. “Are you kidding? Twenty?! Wren, my IQ is at least 140, no way you could actually lower it. Much less by that much! I mean, Twenty?! That’s like, the average IQ of a todd–”

“Do we have a deal or not?!” Wren interrupted with rolling eyes.

“Well you haven’t set the stakes, young lass.” He said with a swaggering smirk, “What do I get if I win?” Ryan replied, crossing his arms.

It was Wren’s turn to scoff. “Pshh, I really don’t care…cause you’re not going to win. Name your prize.”

“Blowjob.” Ryan said almost without a thought, he couldn’t remember the last time he’d even gotten one. He had no idea why.

“Fine.” Wren said without even blinking.

“Every day.”

“Sweetie,” she said, softening her tone as she brushed a hand to his cheek, bringing her face so close that he could feel her breath on his lips, then let out a whisper, “If you can maintain an IQ above 50, I’ll give you three of them! Every day. Breakfast, lunch, and dinner.”

Ryan laughed, unable to find this preposterous notion any more amusing. “You’re really that confident?”

“If you agree to my methods without putting up a fuss? Yes. I absolutely am. I bet I can make you so stupid in just a month that you won’t even remember the fucking alphabet by the time I’m done with you!””

Ryan grinned from ear to ear. This was going to be the easiest bet of his life. His balls would never be full. 

“You’re on.”

******

Ryan scoffed at the patronizing nature of it. Was she really going to make him use his left hand?

“You have to color while you listen to the tape.” Wren told him when she placed a crayon in his hand. She sat him down ‘criss-cross applesauce’ in front of a little table with a coloring book on it. Wren flipped it open to the first page, which had a big letter ‘A’ on it. 

“Now Ry-Ry, can you tell me what letter this is?” She asked in a sardonic tone. 

“It’s an A.” Ryan grumbled, rolling his eyes. 

“And can you tell me what ‘A’ stands for?”

“Apple, asparagus, aardvark, apostesism…”

“Very good, Ry-Ry!!” She clapped mockingly, pulling out a large set of headphones. “Now you just sit here and color your wittle pages while you listen to this lovely music! I’ll be back to check on you in a few hours…”

“Hours??” Ryan repeated incredulously. Was she really going to make him sit and do a fucking coloring book for that long? There were much better things he could be doing with his time. But he had to play her game. A bet was a bet, and he planned to prove her wrong. 

She tapped something on her phone and the music kicked on shortly after. Much to Ryan’s chagrin, it wasn’t even good mysic like Bach or Tchaikovsky or even Tame Impala, it was some nursery lullaby bullshit, but with a weird reverb effect added to it. He could also hear faint little voices in the background, but they were too drowned out by the other noises for him to discern what they were saying. He could only pick out certain words like ‘baybee’ and ‘diapers’ and ‘poo poo’s”, which made sense, because it was nursery rhymes. 

He found himself zoning out, but that was just from the sheer boredom of it all. He was better than this. He’d submitted dissertations on complex epigenetic interactions of the human genome, and now he was just coloring the letter A a hundred times over. 

How was she going to make hom forget the alphabet if she was ‘teaching’ them to him? Maybe she was just exaggerating, it’s literally impossible to forget something that’s been embedded in his brain since before school even started. 

After what felt like an eternity, she finally came over and tapped him on the shoulder, removing the headphones. His mind was a little hazy, but again, it was probably just from the lack of any complex thought for the first time in his life. She shooed him and allowed him to resume his more age-appropriate activities. 

*****

The next day went much like the first, except instead of ‘A’, he was doing the letter ‘B’. 

“Boredom, beneath, balderdash.” Ryan sighed, listing off words to convey how ridiculous this whole thing was. 

“And…” Wren said, placing something down on the table next to the Crayons. “ Bottle.”

Ryan chuckled heartily. It was an actual bottle. A baby bottle, with a little nipple and everything. 

“You can’t be serious.”

“Do you give up?”

“No.” Ryan said quickly, “but i’m not drinking…whatever that is. Especially not out of that!”

Wren just shrugged. “You don’t have to, but it’s there if you get hungry.”

She put the headphones over his ears once more, clicked them on, and left the room. 

Ryan was already over this whole thing, but he wasn’t about to give her the satisfaction of quitting. He swirled the blue crayon through the loops of the big B’s while the music played. The little voices seemed to be louder this time, but it still wasn’t worth paying attention to. 

About halfway through his 4 hour session though, Ryan’s mouth felt a bit dry. Something at the back of his throat was pulsing. His cheeks felt empty.  For whatever reason, he needed to have something in there. 

At first he bit his nails. That was nice, for a little. But that soon turned to his finger tip, and eventually his whole thumb. 

After another hour of suckling his fingers, he looked to the bottle. He was hungry, and Wren refused to give him cheerios and goldfish like she did yesterday. 

He picked up the bottle, pressing the rubber nipple to his lips. Jesus that felt good! He gave a little suckle, then another, then gagged. The liquid wasn’t milk, it was…something else. It tasted awful. But he couldn’t stop drinking. The nipple felt too good in his mouth, it was worth putting up with the disgusting flavor. 

He finished every last drop. 

Wren had to practically pry the bottle from his hands when it was time to remove his headphones. Ryan couldn’t explain why he was so attached to it all of a sudden. Why was he getting so angry and flustered over such a silly thing?

Thankfully, Wren had an alternative ready, another ‘B’ word:

Binky. 

******

Ryan sucked on it the whole night. His cheeks ached in the morning, but luckily a fresh bottle helped to ease the pain. 

His brain felt fuzzy, but it was probably because he didn’t sleep that well. He was too busy worrying about the binky possibly falling out of his mouth while he slept. 

The lack of sleep was also why he couldn’t think of complicated ‘C’ words. He could only come up with ‘Car’, Cat, and whatever the word is for the thing you put water and juice in. 

Luckily, after his hypno session, Wren had the perfect thing to help him sleep better: a Crib. 

******

Something happened that night. Maybe his bottle leaked, or maybe it was the ceiling. But when he rolled over from his cramped position in the undersized crib, the sheets were warm and wet. 

Wren assured him that this happens all the time but, just in case, she had something for him to wear. 

Ryan threw an absolute fit when he saw what it was. She was holding up a big giant diaper. 

He tried to tell her off, but his mind was too foggy to form a coherent argument. He really wasn’t sleeping well. 

Still, he tried to fight her when she took his hands and laid him down, but his arms and legs didn’t seem to want to cooperate. It felt like he was moving through molasses. 

She had him on his back. He stared at the clouds on the ceiling. Were those always there? Or was that just his vision? No, they had to be new. His whole room was starting to look different. Another large cloud floated into view. But it wasn’t a cloud, it was a diaper. 

His mind was back. She wanted him to wear a diaper. Absolutely not! This was perposter— prepos—perslweterous. 

“D’awww!! Don’t be scared!!” Wren cooed, it sounded like angels singing. “It’s just a wittle diapurr!! You’ll get used to them!”

Ryan felt something screaming inside him. Something deep down. But then Wren said “look! It has the ABC’s printed on it!” And that made him feel better. He recognized those letters, even though he couldn’t think of much else. 

But the padding felt weird when she slid it underneath him. Not bad. Just…weird. Different. Like something wasn’t right. 

He started squirming on the floor, flailing as much as he could, but even in his foggy vision he could see that his arms were only making minor twitches. 

So he did the only thing he knew he could do: he started crying. C-c-Crying. That starts with a C! He knew that for sure. He was so smart. 

He felt the tears slide down his face, one after another. He could hear his wails, could hear how ridiculous it sounded, but he didn’t want to stop. That is, until something rubbery entered his mouth. Then he immediately stopped crying, and felt instantly better. 

He suckled the binky while Wren made a cloud of powder between his legs. He watched as she pulled the diaper up and taped it on. It was hard for him to explain—especially now—but he felt this amazing sense of comfort once it was on. He really liked it. Which may be why something warm and sticky formed inside the diaper almost immediately. 

He spent the rest of the day coloring in ‘D’s’ while wearing his diaper. 

A few times he had to get up to use the restroom, but Wren insisted the headphones needed to stay on, even if his diaper was down. A very agitating song played the entire time he was on the toilet, and the words that the voices used were not very nice. It made him feel bad, very bad, almost guilty for doing something so silly as using the potty. 

Ryan didn’t get a bottle that night, just some chicken nuggets that Wren had taken the liberty of cutting into tiny pieces for him. 

When he was done, she took him by the hand to his new room. He didn’t know why, he didn’t need her help, but without her he probably would have gotten lost. Not because he was dumb, but because he just wasn’t used to sleeping in the guest room. 

Wren stopped in front of his new crib, making a show of checking his diaper. Another absurd display, just because he was playing her little game and wearing this stupid garment didn’t mean he would actually use it. So when she was finally satisfied that every square centimeter was not wet or ‘messy’, he climbed into the crib. 

When he laid back on the plastic mattress, he noticed there was a new mobile hanging above him. It had little geometric shapes and symbols that he didn’t feel like naming right now because he was tired, he could definitely do it if he wanted to though!

She placed his binky in his mouth and he gratefully accepted it, he was terrified of having to spend the night without something in his mouth.

Wren clicked a little button and the dangling shapes on the mobile started to spin. It was mesmerizing, even more so because it played a happy little tune from the speakers. The very same tune that played through his headphones earlier that day.

 ******

Ryan’s diaper was plump and swollen the next morning. His mind wasn’t as fuzzy, so he must have finally gotten a good night's sleep. 

Wait, his brain said, finally catching on to what was happening. He was in a diaper, and he’d wet it. Several times by the feel of it. 

Wren was smiling when she came through the door, even though Ryan was spewing vitriol. The words were coming easier to him again, but so was the gravity of his situation. Had she really been making him wear diapers and drink from bottles??

Wren continued to smile like a mother letting her little one get his tantrum out. Ryan hung over the bars of the crib, he was too scared to climb out himself, but he wasn’t scared to call Wren all sorts of names. 

After almost a minute of Ryan’s blabbering, Wren had had enough. She clicked a button on her phone which made the little mobile over Ryan’s bed start whirring again. Playing that tune that Ryan was really starting to grow attached to. 

Suddenly, Ryan didn’t even feel like calling Wren a bitch any more. He wasn’t even sure what that meant. Instead, he let out a hefty sigh, and brought his thumb to his mouth. He couldn’t find his pacifier. 

“How’s your diaper, little one? Did somewon have an uh oh’s last night?”

Even though Ryan was calm, he still felt this combative stirring rising from his chest. Something was wrong. He knew he wasn’t supposed to wear diapers. He knew he was too old for them. And he definitely knew he wasn’t supposed to pee in them. He shook his head ‘no’ in an exaggerated fashion. 

“No? You didn’t have an accident?” Wren tisked, squeezing the saturated padding, “what is this then?”

Ryan could feel shame welling up inside him. He was a grown man and he’d pissed inside a pair of pampers. He couldn’t even remember doing it. It was all while he was asleep, while those stupid songs were playing. He would do better. This would never happen again. She might have had an upper hand on him, getting him to agree to the diapers and cutesy shit, but he was not about to—wait. Was that a bottle??

He made grabby hands at the little container of off-white liquid, practically spilling some when he snatched it away from her. 

She let the bars of the crib down, allowing him to clamber out, rubber nipple not leaving his mouth. He would have walked, but he felt it was easier to scooch around on his knees.

About halfway through the liquid, Ryan felt something stirring in his tummy. 

“What is it, dear?” Wren asked sweetly, placing her hands on her knees while she smiled down at him. 

“I have to go potty.” Ryan said, unsure why he said it like that. 

“Oh?” Wren asked, looking overly surprised, “is it #1 or #2?”

Ryan couldn’t understand why she was talking about numbers right now. Wren giggled at what must have been a perplexed look. 

“Do you have to go pee pee or poo poo?” She clarified. 

“Poo poo.” Ryan said, feeling his face flush. Something told him this was a weird conversation with a little too much information, but he brushed that away. 

“D’aww! You need to make poopies?!” Wren exclaimed exaggeratedly, “well you don’t wanna have to go all the way to the bathroom do you? It’s a pretty long way…”

She was right. It was a long way, and his legs did feel tired…

“Hmmm…mayybee…” she said, deep in thought, tapping her chin, “maybe you could just use your diaper?”

The very thought was revolting. She wanted him to make a stinky poo’s all over himself? “Na uh! No way!” 

She dangled the binky in front of his face, “I'll give you a little present if you make a present for Mommy!”

Ryan immediately agreed, and he got to suck on his binky the entire time he was crouching down, pushing a warm load of mush into his pampers. 

Wren was so proud of him. She clapped and cheered and giggled uncontrollably, even while she pinched her nose and teased him about the smell. 

But with the warmth came a deep sense of displeasure. Disgust. A part of Ryan’s brain was ridiculing him for what he just did. The words were coming back to him now. 

“You’re doing something to me!” Ryan shouted. He knew it was wrong. Something was happening to him, he couldn’t figure out what, but he knew that the normal him wouldn’t like it! “Stop all this right now! Whatever it is you’re doing isn’t fair! You’ve got me shitting myself! I’m not doing this anymore! I’m not gonna—“

“Shhh…” Wren smiled, placing a hand to his droopy diaper. “Don’t be sad!” She whispered softly. Her voice was like honey, l angelic, the greatest sound in the whole world. “I’m your Mommy, remember? I’m right here.”

Ryan could feel his anger and shame evaporating from his body. 

“Do you want me to stop all of this?” She asked, rubbing her palm against the bulge of his diaper. “Do you want me to take your binky away?”

Ryan’s eyes immediately went wide. Why would she even say such a thing? Why would she need to take his binky??

“Nooo you don’t want that do you?”

Ryan heard himself whimpering, felt his head shaking. 

“And what about your diapers? Do you not like your diapers?”

No. He didn’t like them at all. They were sweaty and itchy, but they were also sooo soft…

“Do you think you should stop wearing them?”

His head moved up and down. 

“But what if you have another accident? What if you wet the bed again? That would be really embarrassing, wouldn’t it?”

It would. She was right. It would be embarrassing. 

“But if you wear a diaper you don’t have to worry about that do you? All your messes go in there! You don’t even have to walk all the way to the potty! You can use them any time, anywhere!”

She was making such good points. She always made good points. She really was so smart. 

Still, some weird logical part of his brain was firing again. 

“But I’m a big boy!” Ryan whined around his binky. 

“Oh?” Wren asked, shaken. “Do…big boys have accidents?”

Another great point. 

“And big boys surely wouldn’t use diapers, even on purpose!” Wren said, turning into a very scary tone. “But what did you just do, Ry-Ry?”

Ryan’s face flushed. “I pooped them.”

“You did what?”

“I made poo-poo’s…” he could feel the tears welling up again. He wasn’t even sure why. All of this was so confusing. 

“Awww! Don’t be sad!” Wren cooed, switching to that heavenly tone once more, “good baybees use their diapurrs all the time! Like you just did!!”

Ryan smiled, a flood of warmth seeped through his chest, and maybe also into his diaper as well. 

“And baybees that are good get to make a different type of mess, too!”

Ryan wasn’t sure what that meant, but Wren started rubbing the front of his diaper, squeezing it, massaging it, and that felt really good. 

“Tell me you’re a good baybee!” She said, rubbing faster. 

“I’m a good baybee!” Ryan squeaked. 

“Tell me what you did in your diaper.”

“I made pee pee’s and poo poo’s”

“Do you like making messies in your diapurrs?”

“Yes”

“Yes Mommy.” She corrected.

“Yes Mommy!”

“Which do you like to use better? The pampers? Or the potty?”

“The potty.”

She stopped rubbing. 

Panic coursed through Ryan’s veins. He was so close!

“Pampers!!” He corrected, “I prefer peeing and pooping pampers!!”

The rubbing started again. 

“Every time you poop your pampers, Mommy will give you a reward!” She said. 

Ryan nodded, moaning and groaning while Wren rubbed his defiled diaper. It felt so wrong, so disgusting, but he couldn’t stop her. He couldn’t tell her no, because it also felt so good!

It felt even better when he started spasming, and another warm load leaked into the padding. 

Wren patted his padded butt. “Such a good baybee!”

Even with her kind words, a huge rush of shame hit Ryan in the face. His horniness was gone, the haze was lifting, his complex thoughts were coming back, and so was his attention to this disgusting diaper! 

“Wren what the fuck are you doing to—“

But he couldn’t hear himself say the rest, because the headphones were back on his ears, and that lovely tune was playing again. His mind melted away, but before it did he could see her place the book in front of him again, a giant letter ‘E’ emblazoned across the page. 

“You just stay right here and finish your coloring” Wren said, even though he probably couldn’t hear her. He was laying down flat on his tummy, swishing back and forth in his pissy, poopy pamper, smiling and humming the little tune to himself.  “I’ll be back in a few hours to change your diaper.” She continued, patting him on the bottom, “Then we’re going to learn a new ‘E’ word: Enema!”

------------------------------

21 Letters to go! What else could be in store for little Ry-Ry? This is one of my favorite stories I've ever done, so if you would like to read the rest, head on over to SubStar! It's available for all tiers! Credit goes to @dj-kinkster for his help and ideas on making this story a reality!

[queen-of-deans-booty]

Don't Fight It

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Female!Reader

Word Count: ~2.3k

Warnings: angst, gun violence, murder, fluff

Request by @jessicalynnann: Dean standing by a window and he is a multi millionaire mob boss… any ways. Standing by the window with a glass of whiskey waiting for the reader who he keeps denying his feelings for…. Any ways her best friend calls says that someone is bothering the reader and won’t leave them alone. Well he rushes down and saves the reader after he finds her in the alley almost being attacked and then he confesses everything 😂☺️

Summary: You work for not only a successful businessman but also a man who does less than legal things in his spare time. He hopes to never have to bring you into that side of his life but when your ex makes an appearance, he has no choice but to use his deadly skills to get you out of trouble alive.

Square Filled: “it’s not an addiction. it’s a coping mechanism.” (2023) for @spnaubingo

Author’s Note: any and all comments are appreciated <3

x

Never in your professional career have you ever been late except for today. Your car didn’t want to start this morning so you had to jumpstart it using a portable charger you had lying around from the last time your brother was staying with you. He claims he forgot it but you know he left it there intentionally. He’s always looking out for you whether you want him to or not.

You walk into work clutching your purse and water cup to your chest as you make your way to your desk. Due to the darkness coming from underneath your boss’ door, you assume he’s not in right now. Thank God. You don’t have to confront him after being late. You quickly get settled in and immediately pull up your emails to see what kind of day you’re going to have today.

As the personal assistant to the CEO of Winchester Industries, you always have a lot on your plate. There is seldom any time for yourself at work which is a good thing because that means the day goes by faster. You admire Dean for what he does and the impact he has made not only on the town you live in but in towns across America. He is involved with environmental technologies, medical devices, and the telecommunications sector. He cares so much about the environment that he develops equipment that helps farmers, medical devices mostly for animals, and strengthens the telecommunication sector across America.

He had an idea one day and decided to do something about it instead of waiting for someone else to do it. Now, he’s one of the richest men in the country because of it.

Speaking of the devil, when Dean walks out of the elevator, you’re already halfway through your emails.

“Good morning, Y/N,” he drawls.

“Good morning, Dean.”

“Hey, did you happen to get the contracts for--”

“Already on your desk.”

“What about the proposal for--”

“Already done, waiting for your seal of approval. I also have reached out to Phoenix Zoo and set up a Zoom meeting at ten since their medical equipment broke for their gorilla.”

Dean leans against your desk with a sexy smirk on his face. What you wouldn’t give to see that smirk behind closed doors. If you put aside the fact that you’re his personal assistant, there is one reason why you shouldn’t fall for a man like Dean Winchester. He’s a successful CEO but you know he’s involved with shady shit on the side. You’re not sure what his deal is but you know it isn’t legal. You turn a blind eye to the many times he’s come into work with bloodstains on his stark white shirt.

Maybe you should run. Any sane, logical person would but you’ve never been the one to listen to that side of you.

“What would I do without you?”

“Cry, maybe. This business would crumble without me.”

“Don’t I know it,” he chuckles.

“So, I have two interviews coming in today, both for the marketing department, Dalton Martinez wants to schedule a meeting with you, and--”

“How about this,” he cuts you off, “you take care of the interviews today and I’ll take care of everything else.”

“Okay.”

He walks into his office and you can’t help but watch him leave. He’s such a good-looking man that it’s hard not to fall for his charm. You tried asking what he does in his free time when you saw his bloody shirt for the first time but he refused to talk about it. You haven’t asked him about it since even though you want to.

The two interviews come and go and now you’re stuck at your desk replying to emails, drafting up contracts for Dean, and planning his next work trip. Right when the clock strikes twelve, Dean comes out of his office without his jacket on. He rolled his sleeves up to his elbows, and you vermouth waters at the sight of his white shirt stretching across his broad chest.

“Hey, are you busy for lunch?”

“No.”

“Want to have lunch with me? I’ll be stuck in this office all day.”

“Sure,” you smile. You log out of your computer and grab your lunch bag from the fridge you have underneath your desk. You pass by one of the other ladies on the floor and she tsks when you approach her desk. “What?”

“Be careful not to get involved with him.”

“I’m not. It’s just lunch.”

You walk into Dean’s office who is standing by this floor-length windows with a glass of whiskey in hand.

“Don’t tell me that glass is your lunch.”

“No.” He walks over to his desk, reaches into the mini-fridge, and pulls out a meatball sandwich he made before coming to work. “So, tell me about your day.”

You eye the glass of whiskey on his desk. “Maybe we should talk about your day. Addiction can ruin someone’s life.”

“It’s not an addiction. It’s a coping mechanism.”

“Want to talk about it?”

“I’d rather talk about you. Any plans this weekend?”

“I might need something stronger than water if I’m going to talk about that,” you chuckle.

“Don’t let me stop you.”

You get up and pour yourself a strong drink before downing it in one go. That will be a mistake later but you don’t care. You pour yourself another glass before sitting back down across from him.

“Let me know if this is unprofessional but I haven’t had a date in two years. In the last relationship I was in, he tried to have me killed. I come from very old money but I like to work hard for what I have instead of using what my family gives me every week.”

“I understand,” Dean nods, leaning back in his chair as he listens intently.

“When my ex-boyfriend found out about my money, he wanted it. He wanted to be rich and powerful, but I realized that all he ever wanted from me was money. I was done giving it to him so I broke things off which is when he tried to kill me. I tried to move on but he’s always there to ruin things for me. I kind of gave up on romance and having friends. So, the answer to your question is no, I don’t have any plans this weekend. He won’t let me.”

“What’s his name?”

“Like I’m going to tell you that,” you scoff. “Don’t think I don’t know you’re into some shady shit. I might not know what you do in your free time but I know it’s not legal.” He raises an eyebrow at you. “Am I wrong?”

“No,” he shakes his head.

“Don’t worry about me. I can handle him, but it’d be really nice if I could just wake up one day and feel free.”

Dean leans forward and rubs his hands together. All he can think about is your life in danger and the mere thought sends him into a rage.

“Listen to me. I want you to call me any time of the day and I will help you if you need it.” You nod. “I need you to promise me.”

“Okay, I promise.”

“Cherry is my safe word.”

You immediately choke on your water and almost spit it out on the ground. You cough as you try to regain your composure while Dean watches with an amused look.

“Excuse me?” you cough.

“When someone I know is in danger, they tell me cherry and I know to drop everything for them. That includes you, too.”

“I don’t think I’ll need it,” you clear your throat, “but I promise to use it if I do.”

The rest of the day goes by smoothly and without issue. Dean has been working hard to get everything done before his work trip to Europe, and you’re working hard to make sure he has everything he needs. He asked you to come but you haven’t given him an answer yet. A whole trip with Dean by yourself? That’s a mistake waiting to happen but it would be nice to go to Europe for a week.

Every day for the remainder of the week, you and Dean have lunch in his office and talk about anything and everything. If you didn’t know him as your boss, you two would have made such great friends… maybe something more. He’s leaving for Europe on Monday so you have at least three days to give him an answer on if you’re going or not. Everything will be paid for so all you have to do is show up at the airport at four in the morning if you want to go.

Maybe…

Friday comes around and you’re staying a bit later than normal to finalize everything he needs for his trip. It’s past eight when you finally get done and you shut your computer down for the weekend. Dean is still in his office when you leave, and you head to the carport where your car is. You’re looking at your phone and not paying attention when someone steps in your way. You stop feeling a set of eyes on you and you look up to see your ex-boyfriend at the entrance of the carport.

“Hey, Y/N, long time no see,” he grins.

You immediately turn and head back to work when you see two of his friends blocking that way. The only way you’re going to get out of this is to use the alleyway next to the building. If you can cut through it, you’ll be on the other side of the carport where your car is. You might be able to make it if you’re quick. Elijah must know what you’re going to do because he starts walking over to you. You jump into action and sprint into the alley with your phone clutched in your hand.

Cherry! Cherry! CHERRY!

You almost run into Elijah because you’re texting Dean, and you nearly fall on your ass while stumbling away from him.

“Why are you running from me? I just want to talk.”

You look behind you and see his two friends right blocking the only other way out of the alley. You turn back to Elijah and notice something black glinting in his hands. He has a gun. Your heart starts to race but you force yourself to keep a clear head.

“What do you want, Elijah? I made myself clear the last time I saw you. I don’t want anything to do with you. Please leave.”

“I will when you give what you owe me.”

“What I owe you?”

“You know the trouble you caused the day you left me? You know me pretty well so you know I don’t tolerate bratty behavior. I think two million dollars will make me forget how you left me. Right, boys?”

One of his friends steps to your back and you freeze in fear when you feel his hot breath on your neck.

“Look at her, Eli, she looks like she’s about to cry,” he grins.

“She’s always been a crybaby.”

“I don’t have what you’re asking. Just leave me alone.” His friend grabs your hand and yanks your head back. “You son of a bitch!”

“Give me what I want and I’ll get out of your hair,” Elijah says and steps closer to you.

“Until you need your next fix, huh? Bite me,” you growl.

His friend lets your hair go and steps back to allow Elijah to deal with you.

“Leave her alone.”

All four of you look at the entrance of the alley to see Dean standing there with a deadly look on his face. He came. He got your message and he’s here. You’re scared that Elijah is going to hurt him even though Dean doesn’t seem the type to be scared of a gun.

“Beat it, old man,” Elijah growls.

“I don’t think you heard me,” Dean chuckles. “Get. Away. From. Her.”

“Yeah? What are you going to do about it?” Elijah waves his gun around and you stiffen in fear. “You don’t know what you’re dealing with so just leave before you get put into a body bag.”

“It’s you who will leave in a body bag. Not me.”

Dean takes out a gun from his suit jacket and points it at Elijah. Your ex panics and jumps behind you to use you as a shield, and he presses the barrel of the gun into the side of your head.

“Yeah? What about now?”

“Dean,” you whimper in fear.

“Don’t worry, sweetheart, I’m very good at what I do.”

“Get back! I’ll shoot her!” Elijah yells. “She’ll be dead and it’ll be because of you!”

Dean aims his gun at Elijah and pulls the trigger. The shot causes both of his friends to scatter knowing you’re not worth the trouble. Blood sprays on your neck just as you scream in terror. Elijah’s grip on you loosens and he falls back onto the ground. You’re about to fall yourself but Dean is quick to catch you. You’re shaking like a leaf in his arms, and he uses the sleeves of his white shirt to wipe the blood off your neck.

“You’re safe, sweetheart.” You look around frantically, having not heard him. “You’re in shock right now but you’re safe. I didn’t shoot you.”

“What?” you ask and finally look at him.

“I didn't shoot you. You’re safe. He will never bother you again.” You try to look at your ex on the ground behind you but Dean grabs the sides of your face to stop you from doing so. “I told you, I’m very good at my job.” You put your head on his chest and cry, and he smooths down your hair. “Do you live alone?”

“Yeah.”

“Not tonight, you won’t. You’ll stay with me.”

“Okay,” you whisper.

“Come on, sweetheart. Let’s get you cleaned up.”

“Thank you,” you say as Dean is bringing you back to his office.

“You don’t ever have to thank me. I will always be here if you need me.”

Yeah, falling for him is inevitable. It’s going to happen whether you want it to or not so may as well run with it instead of fight it.

x

Want to be tagged? Follow my library blog @aqueenslibrary​​​​​​ where I reblog all my stories, so you can put notifications on there without the extra stuff :)

[illustromic]

My thoughts on drawing wings (an unofficial tutorial)

Do you want to get better at drawing your favorite winged character? Do you have winged OCs? Just want to learn something new? I can't promise this post will help, but maybe it'll give you some helpful tips.

I know, I knowww, wing tutorials have been done to death. I don't care. This was initially inspired by a conversation on twitter, but actually I've wanted to write down my notes on the topic for a long time lol. Basically wings are one of my special interests so it's very important, for me, to draw them both nicely and also realistically.

On that note, let me first show you my resume *distant sound of floodgates opening*

Like what you see? Read on! (Oh, and I will only be covering feathered/avian wings bc those are the type I know best.)

Now, I'm not here to give you a step-by-step guide on wing anatomy and aerodynamics, because there are plenty of other resources that cover this already, and I'll list my faves at the end of the post. Right now, I'm going to give you some easy guidelines and tricks that I wish more artists knew.

1: Wings do, in fact, have bones (crazy, I know) and are actually very rigid because they have to support the weight of a living creature. There are some positions you cannot physically force a wing into irl.

2: Flight feathers are not placed willy-nilly on the wing, because then they wouldn't catch the air properly. Again, like the bones, they are rigid and strong, so don't draw them like fur or ribbons. All wings have the same pattern of feather placement, with slight variation depending on species. If you learn the feather sections, it will automatically improve your drawings a lot.

2.5: Feathers overlap each other like a handful of playing cards, and this looks different depending on which side of the wing you're drawing. They always do this unless they're extremely untidy.

3: The size of the wingspan is important if you're going for a more realistic design. There is no "scientifically accurate" measurement when it comes to fictional creatures, but my general rule is when in doubt, you probably need to make them bigger. Personally, for my original winged human species, I give them wings that can be up to 12 feet long each (the artistic sacrifice is that it's really hard to fit the wings on the dang page lmao, so make your own call).

4: Get used to drawing folded wings. Most of the time, birds keep their wings folded because it prevents them from getting damaged and it conserves energy. The trick is to get good at visualizing how the joints bend and overlap (look at plenty of photos!) In general, they can fold much tighter than you think.

5: Wings and feathers take a lot of patience to draw, but the results are worth it. I've seen so so many incredibly beautiful and skillful artworks that are---well, maybe not ruined, but still negatively affected by a pair of wings that look like an afterthought, or not even like wings at all. You have no idea how much a little extra time and practice will add to your work until you see for yourself.

Finally, some notes on "stylized" wings: Of course it's perfectly ok to draw more simplified/cartoony wings if that's your preference!! BUT there is a difference between a stylistic choice and a lack of effort/poor understanding of the subject matter. Even cartoonists have to learn the fundamentals of realism so they know how to make their designs logical and appealing. Here are some examples of more stylized wings that I feel retain the core principles of anatomy/aesthetics:

And last but not least: A list of helpful links I use personally for reference and inspiration!

I made this pinterest board for general artsy inspo, and this board to curate my very favorite tutorials/refs/information, focusing on the scientific aspect of wings and flight in general. Feel free to use both! (I also suggest pinterest in general for pose refs and such, but try to only practice using photos at first and not other drawings.)

I highly recommend this blog and this blog if you want examples of artists who draw more realism-based winged creatures!! They are both huge inspirations for me and I think you should totally follow them even if you don't plan to draw wings lol <3

If you're REALLY serious about it, my favorite ref books are: Winged Fantasy, a lovely drawing book by Brenda Lyons; Proctor & Lynch's Manual of Ornithology; and Angelus vincens by R. Spano, which is essentially an artbook by someone who (I believe) designed biologically plausible "angels" for their senior thesis.

Ok, idk how to end this lol but I hope it helped! I know it's not my normal kind of post but I'm super busy with college stuff rn and this was all I had time for. If you guys have any questions or feedback, please let me know!!!

-Aloe <3

[resident-idiot-simp]

Ok interactions between the 09 and 22 characters would be INSANE

I say MacTavish HATES Soap for being so very like him but not quite. He can only see the flaws and how it's going to get everyone killed.

Riley and Ghost have three options:

1) they become besties and make jokes about trauma and it terrifies everyone

2) they mutually agree without staying a word to stay away from each other

3) they absolutely hate each other because they know each other's weaknesses

Reboot Price jumps other Price on sight

I feel like both Gaz's would get along great.

However Ghost would like MacTavish until he realized he didn't like Soap and then he wouldn't be so chill anymore.

Reboot Price... I'm actually not sure

Reboot Gaz would think he's a snob and just dislike him on principle for how he treats Soap which...valid

Everyone loves Riley he is just peak (except for maybe Ghost as stated above). Riley is the favorite he gets along with Gaz with the sarcasm and Soap just because...well It's a version of MacTavish.

Riley is unsure of reboot Price at first but quickly becomes attached.

09 Gaz I can't see him as anything other than neutral just everyone likes the guy. He's funny, he's good, he's great.

The reboot 141 take one ONE look at 09 Price and DESPISE him. BECAUSE WHAT THE FUCK?! THAT IS NOT PRICE. (Even 09 Gaz won't give him the time of day)

The thing is MacTavish thinks Soap is a fool. And Soap KNOWS that actually the issue is MacTavish

Soap is smart any version of them are incredibly intelligent but MacTavish has lost the plot. You have Soap over here pointing out the inconsistencies and flaws with his logic and hero worship. But MacTavish will NOT hear it because what does this Sergeant know?!

He also gets super jealous that Riley likes him It's just insult injury

And the thing is Riley's just probably tired of having to deal with my MacTavish's BS. Riley loves him no doubt but it's just refreshing to have another version of the man he loved before he kind of lost himself

Soap can't help but pity the man. He understands why he acts like he does he just wishes it didn't end up like that. He can't even help him MacTavish won't listen. I mean why would a man want to admit he's wrong and rearrange his whole worldview that he's had set for so many years. Death truly is an easier choice.

And Soap knows that's what's going to happen he just wishes that with the trajectory he's headed it won't take out his whole team but he doesn't think either of them are that lucky.

(Roach is just watching from the rafters)

[sugar-omi]

I don’t think I read cove putting on a condom in that virginity loss post. Do I sense Cove having to awkwardly buy MC plan b? 😏😏🤭

[part 1]

listen. it's up for interpretation✋️😌🤚 maybe the parents left some rubbers in the house bc who KNOWS what'll happen. but that's exactly what i was thinking too🤭

you're both too eager to even think rationally, logically.

by the time he's ruined you with his tongue and stretched you open with his fingers, and the thought finally occurs to you two, you can't just let him go.

you promise him it'll be okay, that it's just one time and today should be safe. that you can just get a plan B and it'll be alright

his brain is too fogged to even disagree. because right now, his dick throbbing at the thought of losing his virginity raw. especially with you. to even think about all the lectures his parents gave, or even think about the consequences and how complicated his feelings are as a big fay teenage accident

tries to put up a bit of resistance, asks if you're sure. if you're really sure.

please don't try to reason with him by saying "well, if we do it raw the first time, i won't get curious when doing it with anyone else..."

because now he has to agree.

because fuck. what if the temptation is just as strong now, as down the line. what if he's too dazed to think straight. maybe, just maybe, feeling how hot and wet your pussy is around his cock will give him a bit of reason if he ever has sex with someone else..

finally he'd just growl lowly, curses and says "okay, fuck.. okay..." because now you've won him over. he can't go back now

thinks he's ruined just when the tip of his cock alone pushes past your entrance, that this is it. he's totally fucking pussy drunk for the rest of his life. there's no way he'll ever be able to recover for the feeling of your tight cunt squeezing around him, your legs and arms tangled around him and your thighs trembling and squeezing around his hips

all he'll be able to think of for the rest of his life will be how your eyes rollback, how they they flutter, and how his name sounds on your lips, all breathy and soft and whiny. it's a fucking symphony and he needs you to keep singing it

pants and inhales like he's running a fucking marathon with every cm and every inch of cock he sinks into you.

he's not small, and he hopes he stretched you enough, and of your hymn is still intact before now, he really hopes this doesn't hurt you too much.

it's so suffocating and hot. and even with tears welling up in your eyes, a tear or two running down your cheeks, he can't help but feel so fucking happy that you're under him like this, clinging onto him. whining and moaning his name. crying about his dick, how he's too fucking thick to fit inside you, how he's nudging your cervix once he's fully inside...

tries to ignore it but he's so happy you're doing this with him.

what if some other asshole had you under him like this. and then ran off and bragged, embarrassing you. or shamed you when you fought for how you cried and clung onto them like a needy whore

really tries to ignore the primalness rising in his chest. but fuck he has to admit his confidence is getting bigger by the second. has been ever since you said he's the only guy you trust to take your virginity and not regret it. that if you had a choice, you'd give it to him.

he's never cared about the whole virginity thing, and purity and all that... just wanted it to be with someone he trusted, and he's glad you feel the same

but now that you're here.. fuck it's flipped a switch inside him

right now, he doesn't know if he wants to give you up. your bodies are connected now.. you're taking him to the hilt, crying his name, and begging him for more.

just minutes ago you begged him to make you cum on his face.

he doesn't want anyone else to see that.

but that's so selfish, and disgusting. you're not even dating. this is just.. both of you taking precautions to not regret your first sexual experience

but fuck.. fuck if he doesn't feel like your souls are connected at this point. if he doesn't feel like you own a piece of him now..

which in fact. you do. and he does too.

he's the first to see you so vulnerable, so intimately.

no one else has seen you like this. you haven't called anyone else's name in that sultry voice and he's the first person besides yourself to make you cum.

he owns those firsts. and you own the same from him.

it's not like it's the first thing you've ever done together, really it shouldn't be this fucking life changing.

but not all best friends tell each other they want the other to pop their cherry, and not all best friends beg the other to please put it in, that that's enough and you're ready for it.

not all best friends moan out each others name, leav dark hickeys on each other, and definitely don't hold hands and kiss like lovers as they gently fuck into the other friend..

God he hopes he's your only best friend. at least the only best friend who can do this to you.

you're hardly accustomed to the intrusion before he picks up the pace. he had just kissed the tears off your cheeks and told you it's okay, he has you, you're doing so good..

and now he's slamming his hips down, his body weight pushing you into the mattress, and his face is buried in your neck, muttering apologies in your ear as if that'll make up for his cock bullying your sensitive, deflowered insides

you're so sensitive from your previous orgasms, and this is a whole new sensation. it's too much, he's so mean, but if he really was that mean, why is he holding your hand and kissing you, squeezing his hand between your body to rub your clit...

cove's always so sweet, so you can forgive him for being a bit of a bully tonight. even if your cervix and pussy is so tender afterwards, you can get over it because fuck it's too good to be mad at him

he's hitting all those spots you can't reach with your fingers, his cock dragging along every spot and his fat cock top nudging that delicious spot between your walls

he thinks he's gone to heaven when you lock your legs around him, begging him to keep hitting that spot. of course, he obliges, adjusting his knees and trying to keep a god rhythm as he fucks into that spot that has you crying so loudly, your nails dragging down his back...

you feel so fucking good.. and he groans when he looks between your bodies and see the creamy ring around his cock, strings of slick and cum connecting your pussy to his abdomen and the mess is all over both of your guys thighs.

it's sloppy. and dirty. dirtier than those sloppy French kisses you engaged in earlier, and cove didn't think he could get any harder until right now

between the mess and the way your pussy clings to his cock, the obscene shlicking noises, the way your cunt accepts him and gushes around him like you're made for him, and he's made for you..

he can't hold it anymore. especially when you cry as you cum around his cock, your legs locking behind his back ad your ego him to keep going.

cages you in his arms as he uses your pussy to bring him over the edge, running tight circles around your clit.

you're not letting up, even when he says he's gonna cum, that he should cum outside.. fuck it probably doesn't matter if he pulls out at this point.

all the pre cum his fat, pretty cock drooled inside your pussy, and if you made him cum before you went all the way, his cock was already sticky and wet with his semen, it's far too late to be cautious now.

his eyes roll back and flutter shut when he cums, groaning and he can't help but bite into your shoulder, not even thinking twice about it whole he dumps his fat, thick load inside your poor cunt..

he's totally painting your walls white, and it's spilling out around his cock.. you didn't think he could cum so much, didn't think it'd be possible..

it'll definitely be impossible to clean out later. you can feel how thick and clingy his cum is, you're going to be fingering and scooping out cum fron your sensitive guts for so long...

you have to ignore that dark part of you that says his cum is perfect for getting you pregnant. that it'd fill your womb up so nicely, that if it didn't take the first time it'd be a fucking miracle.

you choking around the primal urges filling up your chest, your brain.. you have to get him off you before you beg him to fuck you again. before a second round turns to three, than four...

you've been so irresponsible. but at least you can curse yourself about that instead of having your first times with assholes, right?

and at least cove will buy the plan B himself, or at least pass you the money for it. he's still a better gentleman than any other guy out there, so you definitely can't be mad about your first time...

[orcinus-veterinarius]

When horses end up with severe leg/hip injuries, they are almost always put to sleep. The odds of recovering full mobility from such injuries are slim and the odds of reinjury are high, so even if the horse is perfectly healthy in all other aspects, it is generally recognized to be more humane to put them down than to keep them alive just to live the rest of their lives limping around a small paddock or stall. A life for a horse in which s/he cannot gallop, leap, explore and play is no life at all. Why not apply the same logic to cetaceans? A life for a cetacean in which they can’t dive hundreds of meters, make meaningful autonomous choices (“should I play with the rubber ball or the puzzle feeder today?” is not a meaningful choice; research has shown that autonomy is crucial for animal welfare), echolocate and experience the rich biodiversity of the ocean is no life. I really don’t understand why it’s so horrible to think it more humane to euthanize a confused and sick orca calf if there is no chance of rehab and release than to take her/him permanently into captivity. It’s not disparaging or hateful to cetacean trainers to say so—I know they care about animals—it’s simply a logical ethical stance. Instead of searching in vain for orca conservation organizations that aren’t “radically anti-captivity”, maybe pro-caps should look inwards and ask themselves why all the major orca organizations (Center for Whale Research, Orca Behavior Institute, OrcaLab, Wild Orca, Orca Conservancy, Far East Russia Orca Project, etc.) as well as some cetacean organizations (ex. Whale and Dolphin Conservation, Cetacean Society International) oppose captivity. Is it because all of these esteemed groups, which if you look them up are all staffed by credentialed scientists, have been duped by the “animal rights agenda”, or could it be because maybe, just maybe, they know what they’re talking about? If captive orcas are so different from wild ones that wild orca biologists have no credibility to speak about their welfare, then that’s a clear indictment of captivity already.

Hi. I'm sorry for not answering right away, I was still at my externship when I got your ask, and I wanted to be able to sit down and give you a proper answer. So unfortunately, I don't think what I say will satisfy you. I don't expect to change your mind, nor is that my goal here. I only want to explain why I believe the way I do, so that you or others reading this can at least understand that it's not a position I take lightly, nor do I think it's infallible.

(Long post below the cut):

To start off, as an (almost) veterinarian, there are absolutely plenty of circumstances where I find euthanasia to be the correct decision. Euthanasia is our final gift to our patients, a swift and painless death in the face of prolonged suffering or poor quality of life. A large dog with debilitating osteoarthritis. A cat with terminal lymphoma. A down cow. A raptor with an amputated leg. Or like you mentioned, a horse with a fractured hip. These animals would live in a constant state of pain that they don't understand, and death can rightly be considered a kindness to them.

But an otherwise healthy orca calf? I would consider that a false equivalence. I agree that life in the wild should be prioritized whenever possible, and that captive orcas lead very different lives than their wild counterparts. But if that orca cannot return to the wild (orphaned and unable to be reunited with its pod, habituated to humans, non-painful disability such as deafness), and there is a facility willing to take it on, I do not think euthanasia is an appropriate option. In human care, that calf can still swim, breach, and dive, even if not to the same depths as the ocean (it's also worth noting that these are all costly behavior energetically and are not performed for no reason). It can still socialize and form family bonds with an adopted pod of whales. It can still (theoretically) mate and rear calves. It can still engage its big brain in problem-solving through training and enrichment in the place of hunting. And as a bonus, it will never go hungry and has access to veterinary care if ill or injured.

This is not a wild life. This is not the same life they would've, or should've known. A pool, no matter how well-appointed, is not the ocean, and we should not claim they're comparable. But I don't think it's a fate worse than death. I truly don't. But if it is... if freedom really is worth more than life, then all captive whales need to be euthanized. Even in a sea pen setting, they will not be free. They will not choose their food, their companions, their enrichment, their comings and goings. Those choices will still be made on their behalf by caregivers, and they will still have pretty much the same levels of autonomy as in their tank habitat. They will still be captive. (While some people do advocate for this, I don't think it's a popular outlook. Even SOS Dolfijn, a historically anti-cap organization, recently announced plans to build an aqauarium as a permanent home for non-releasable cetaceans rather than continuing to euthanize them).

Speaking of autonomy, yes, it is very important. But I truly don't think the orcas are distressed by the lack of meaning in choosing between enrichment devices. I think that's why we disagree on this topic... we have different worldviews. We both see orcas as beautiful, intelligent creatures, but I do not see them as people. They are animals, and for all their complexity, I interpret their behavior the same way I do any other species... they are motivated by food, reproduction, and (since they're highly social) companionship. Because of that, I still think we can give them a good life in human care, which is why it frustrates me to see the zoo community throw up their hands and give up rather than trying to improve our current less-than-ideal setups (*shakes my fist at the Blue World project*).

Now, I don't think it's wrong to be emotional about animals. I most definitely am! And it's very clear to me you love orcas and care about their wellbeing deeply. I admire that about you, and I appreciate your passion.

On to the next point... in the cetacean world, I've found that there is an unfortunate divide between researchers and caregivers who work with cetaceans in human care and those who study them exclusively in the wild. And that schism far predates the Blackfish era. Most of those organizations you listed are indeed legitimate, and I fully support their vital work and encourage others to do the same. A few of them, though, share things like this:

I think you can understand why this hurts me. And it's a lie. I've now interned at three aquariums (two of them AZA-accredited) that house various species of cetacean, and it's impossible for me to reconcile what I know and have seen to be true and what Whale and Dolphin Conservation wants the public to believe: that these unbelievably loved, vivacious animals are drugged and tortured by their greedy captors. It's not true, and I do not appreciate WDC for spreading this creepy artwork around. Nor do I think that fighting captivity is a beneficial allocation of resources when there is an overwhelming number of genuine threats to the survival of wild cetaceans.

Anyway, back to the scientists. Personally, I don't consider researchers who work exclusively with wild orcas to be either superior or inferior to those who work with captive whales. And sometimes I wonder how much of their position is a self-fulfilling prophecy: if someone opposes captivity on moral grounds, they won't work with captive whales, so they'll never get to know what their lives and care are like beyond maybe a single tour of the park or memories of how things were done in the 1960s (like Dr. Spong, who worked with some of the very first captive orcas at the Vancouver Aquarium).

I also don't think it diminishes the expertise of wildlife biologists to say that they are not experts on husbandry, training, or medical care... those are very different fields, and ideally, they should all inform each other. And of course, there are folks who work with both wild and captive whales. One of the reasons I linked SR3 in my previous post is they have staff with backgrounds in both managed care and research of free-ranging populations (I actually have no idea what the organization's official stance on captivity is, it's not something they address).

Maybe I'm wrong. I try my best to keep an open mind, but I know I'm also swayed by my own preconceptions and experiences. When I started this blog in December 2020, I was a first year vet student with minimal actual experience outside of domestic animals and some herps, and had only recently adopted the pro-captivity outlook. Now, I'm much more deeply involved in the zoo and aquarium world. These are people I know and respect, people who have written me letters of recommendation and comment on my Facebook posts, people I've had dinner with and showed up with after hours to care for a sick animal. And I recognize that biases me. The zoo world is often resistant to change, especially folks who have been in the industry for many years. And that doesn't do anyone, especially the animals, any good. I don't want to get stuck in an echo chamber, so I make it a point to read anti-captivity literature, even when it upsets me. If there is anything I can do to improve their lives, I want to learn about it, regardless of the source.

I try to adapt to new information. For example, in the past few months alone, I've become a lot more favorable toward the idea of sea pen habitats. My concerns about "sanctuaries" are more logisitical* and philosophical** rather than the idea that artifical habitats are inherently superior to pen habitats (they're not), especially when plenty of traditional facilites already make great use of ocean pens or enclosed lagoons. There are pros and cons to both, and a lot of it depends on the needs of the individual animals.

*funding; maintenance; lack of land-based backup pools and fully-equipped medical facilities; introducing immunologically naive animals to pollutants and infectious agents; disruptions to native wildlife; staffing activists and wildlife biologists rather than those with relevant husbandry experience

**villainizing aquariums; promoting the project as a "release to freedom" to the public when it's really another form of captivity; claiming the animals' lives will be "natural" when they will still require training, artificial enrichment, contraceptives, and social management if done correctly; downplaying or completely denying the very real risks of such a transition and insisting the animals will automatically be better off when Little White and Little Grey have proved that's not the case

If you made it to the bottom, thanks for reading. I wish all the best for you, and I mean that genuinely ❤️ even if we disagree, I hope you can appreciate our shared love for these animals and a desire for their wellbeing. Best of luck in all your endeavors!

[evenmoreofadisaster]

Picture this: The Foot decides that Usagi keeps getting in the way or he’s too much of a distraction. So the Lieutenant tells One and Two that Usagi has to be killed, and that they have to do it. One is struck with the shock and horror of the knowledge that his friend(or lover maybe at this point I don’t know?) is in danger. He whispers “No…” in such a soft voice that Two looks at him in confusion. Only for One to repeat himself, screaming “NO!!!” When I say screaming, I’m talking wide eyes, angry tears pricking them, fists clenched tightly, and straight up defying the order to kill the one he loves.

Just something angsty I thought of just now. Why? Because I can.

okay this got my brain GOING. I did make some tweaks, but I LOVE where your head's at!

Basically, a what if scenario where Two tells Draxum about Usagi in Bug Busters

The vines must loosen, because Two releases a huff of air and squirms to adjust his position. “I  have found evidence that Number One has been coming and going from the Nexus Hotel as he damn well pleases, despite your orders and without your permission. If you release me, I can show you.”

One’s blood turns to ice, but before he can defend himself, Draxum puts them down. 

As soon as One’s feet touch the floor and Draxum releases his hold, he lunges for his brother. Draxum’s vines catch him by the shell and arms, pulling him back. One growls and tugs at his restraints. “Two,” he warns. 

But Two pulls up the video feed, a time lapse of every one of his escapes to the Nexus. One’s chest tightens. Even though it’s sped up, there are short glimpses of the slider just sitting down and crying. His weakest, most lowest moments are displayed on camera, right in front of him. In front of his brother. In front of his commander. And every time… every time Usagi was there to cheer him up. Two freezes the frame in one particularly suspicious shot of Usagi leading One down a hallway, holding his hand. 

Slowly, Draxum’s vines loosen and slide away, but One just stands there, staring at the moment frozen in time. 

If he wasn’t in trouble before, he sure as hell is in trouble now. 

“You have been deceiving me.”

One stiffens at the sound of disapproval in Draxum’s voice. “Just let me explain—”

“I’ve heard enough of your explanations!” the commander shouts. Instinctively, One flinches and looks at the floor, caught in his own web of lies. He hates the tight feeling in his throat. 

“You have made a fool of yourself,” Draxum continues. “By coming here, you’ve hindered this mission. Not only that, but your actions have made me question what else you've been keeping from me. You’ve become distracted. Weak. And I will not tolerate this inane behavior any longer.”

A large shadow engulfs One, making him feel small and boxed in. Oppressed. Suffocated. He doesn’t have to look up to know Draxum is the one who’s looming over him. He just hopes that’s the end of it. The silence that follows seems to last forever. Then the commander gives him his order. 

“Kill him.”

One stops breathing. 

“This is your final chance to redeem yourself, Number One. I suggest you take it.”

“No,” One’s mouth runs faster than he can think. It’s not the logical choice, but One knew then and there that he can’t— won’t— follow Draxum’s order. Just like he knew that he couldn’t bring 003D and 004D to Draxum. 

“One,” Two hisses. 

The slider breaks away. “No!” he shouts, fists tight. “I won’t.”

All of a sudden a vine snatches One by the throat and shoots away from the rooftop, holding the slider above the street far below. One gasps as his neck is squeezed. He kicks his legs pathetically and claws at the branch.

“I cannot afford you indulging these insignificant distractions,” Draxum growls. “If you can’t handle these simple tasks, then tell me why shouldn’t I just drop you now?”

“Do it,” One chokes, meeting Draxum’s look of annoyance with defiance. “You’re obviously done with me, so let me go.”

The alchemist narrows his eyes. One’s heart thuds, panic and doubt flooding his mind. He fights it, struggles to hold on to reason. 

This is all talk. One knows it is. Draxum isn’t going to just let him fall to his death— fourteen years of the alchemist risking his life and career to protect them makes One sure of it— but that doesn’t mean he won’t find another way to punish One for slowing him down. 

After a moment, Draxum pulls him back to the ledge and drops him. One falls unceremoniously onto the rooftop, behind Draxum, hitting the ground with a weak grunt. “That would be a waste,” Draxum scowls. “However, I have another solution to this… complication.”

One looks up as Draxum stands next to Two, with a hand on his shoulder. The softshell glances up hesitantly at their commander. 

“Engage deactivation protocol: 001D-Alpha 9.”

--

WUGGHHH this made me sad. um anyways here's a song rec...

[oh-no-its-bird]

Chasing Shadows inspired time travel au where Fugaku and Kakashi get zapped to the warring states, but things become tricky when they keep looking to Hikaku as their shared "figure of respect/responsibility" (bc hes the Uchiha head in future Konoha, having lasted long enough to make Fugaku his heir) when at this time he's just barley third in command and Madara is like. RIGHT there.

That's not even mentioning the ticking time bomb of "Kakashi looks like Tobirama did as a child" that's already been established, that's gonna cause problems (half-Hatake Tobirama who's Kakashi's blood uncle agenda goes brrr)

(For those who don't know what Chasing Shadows is, all u really need to know for this is that Kakashi is 6, Fugaku is 19, and Hikaku is the acting Uchiha clan head at 76. A week after his fathers suicide, Kakashi found out he's related to Tobirama via his grandmother, projects on him really fucking hard, and eventually ends up with Hikaku acting as one of multiple mentor figures to him.)

Fugaku, aware that the Uchiha compound of this era isn't uhh. The best place for a Hatake kid who resembles one of their greatest enemies to a suspicious degree: "maybe u should leave actually. Go shack up with the Senju or smthn"

Kakashi, now heavily biased towards the Uchiha bc of Hikaku and Fugaku: "ok but why."

Izuna, standing directly behind him holding a giant mallet:

The Uchiha are arguing ab what they should do w Kakashi and if they should like. Take him as political hostage (assuming, not entirely incorrectly, that he's related to Tobirama and Hashirama) but also like. The Hatake are an isolated clan that famously react very fucking badly when their kids are threatened. So is this a potential political tool for them to use or a ticking time bomb to when they accidentally potentially get a new clan (who's already allied to the Senju) involved in their feud.

The Uchiha writing to Tobirama and Hashirama like "we have ur secret little brother/cousin(?) come talk to us now or he gets it"

"You have our what."

Hashirama is going "ahaha oh nooo my secret little brother,, who I love very much and also know exactly who ur talking about but would love it if u could send a portrait or chakra signature or smthn just to make sure its the right kid,,, u know how it is <3"

I feel like I've used that beat before actually. Which one of my like 20 Kakashi to warring states time travel aus have I pulled this in?? Possibly multiple tbh

Anyways Hashirama also going "oh nooo u have my baby brother,, I guess we have no choice but to talk andmaybedopeace"

Anyways. I need a Hikaku focused character study sooo badd,, the pipe he uses in Chasing Shadows is Madara's, have I mentioned that yet? Bc it totally is and no one really knows that and like. Hikaku sure as fuck won't mention it bc it'd really only bring bad things

Kakashi and Fugaku are making surprised Pikachu faces at Hikaku like every time they see him, neither can get over seeing him this young and not blind and also not in charge. It's unnatural.

Even logically knowing that they can't just place their full trust in him bc hes not their Hikaku, they still can't stop themselves from doing it accidentally— Fugaku is his ward, he was raised by the guy. And Kakashi is a moody 6 year old who only has like 5 actually trusted adult figures in his life and only 3 of those he gives actual respect and Hikaku is one of those 3.

That's totally gonna fuck them over in the future bc, again, Hikaku doesn't know them!!! His clan and his loyalty to Madara + Izuna will always come first over these odd strangers, sorry

Maybe throw Mikoto in too, who's Izuna's granddaughter (that resemblance is gonna cause issues) and Fugaku's begrudging fiance (Hikaku said Fugaku could become clan head on ONE condition— marrying Izuna's granddaughter back into the main line), could be fun

Maybe I'll try to write smthn like this once I'm more into the meat of chasing shadows and have set up the Hikaku-Fugaku-Kakashi dynamic enough that people are invested in it

[iwahajii]

let the rain take it

Ushijima couldn't make you stay.

//

Staring blankly at the front door, Ushijima wondered whether he'd be able make the right choice if given another chance.

He thought about what he'd do if time would turn back even for just a second because you slammed the front door just a second ago and now his world seems to be crumbling down while he stands frozen in place.

Was he wrong?

Was it a mistake to let you go when you could be with a man who would understand you, care for you, and cherish you better?

Was it wrong for him to want what's best for you even if it costs breaking your hearts?

Ushijima knows his limits the same way he knows his strengths; vivid, clear and familiar like the back of his hand.

Relationships, unlike volleyball, didn't simply require physical strength, stamina and logic. It demanded more from him, things he wasn't sure he could give and things he wasn't sure he even has in the first place.

After the short-lived relationships he had, all of them ending with "I'm sick of trying to love someone who can't love me back", he tried to steer clear of any romantic relationships because maybe they're right. He can't love other people and he doesn't know how to love other people.

But then he met you and by some miracle, stayed with him for almost three years.

Until tonight.

It was only at that point that he blinked, waking up from the slumber your departure induced.

He felt it then.

The splitting, aching, twisting pain in his chest that bloomed and spread until he was visibly shaking. He tried to breathe, tried to calm whatever rampage is going inside his chest when he realized there was wetness in his cheeks.

I don't need you.

The words felt like bullets shot straight to his heart, leaving him breathless as more tears flowed down his cheeks.

It was him who wanted to believe he didn't need you. It was him who wanted to convince himself that he didn't need someone to ask how his day went, that he didn't need someone to worry about him, that he didn't need someone who would accept him for who he is.

He took your affection in exchange for cold treatment and neglect, pushing and taunting until you break your own promise to love him no matter what.

I don't need you.

They were the last words he said to you before you left.

It was the biggest fucking lie Ushijima ever said.

Before he realized what he was doing, Ushijima found himself outside of his apartment, one foot shoeless as he scrambled after you.

He could hear how loud his heart was beating, how cold and stiff his limbs were from the nerves.

The red arrows pointing down in the elevator seemed to laugh at him as the number 2 repeatedly flashes. He runs for the stairs, skipping steps as much as he could. Everything was a blur until he throws himself out onto the street. He looked around, his eyes quickly scanning the vicinity but the rain was making it harder to see under the streetlights.

He shoves his hands in his hair, panic and despair settling down in his gut. There were already people looking at him, whispering by themselves but he didn't care.

He heads for the station, knowing you'd have to take the train to get to your apartment, and it was just in time that he sees you turn the corner.

Ushijima ran like his life depended on it, because as much as he denies and hides, it was the truth he was scared to face.

When he shouts your name, it was hoarse and raw as though it took all his strength to speak.

You barely just turned around before he was pulling you towards him, his shaking arms wounding around your frame.

"I'm so sorry," he tells you as he pressed his lips on the top of your head.

He could feel your body shake as you let out a sob he'll remember for the rest of his life. Taking your face in his hands, he lost count of how many apologies he whispered and sealed with his lips on your skin.

"I'm so tired, Toshi."

His heart shatters and air whooshes out of his lungs like he just received a spike in his abdomen.

"Please," he cries, trying his hardest not to fall apart.

He could feel you shake your head, could feel the tiny push you gave to pull away from him. "I don't want to fight anymore. I can't- Please, Toshi..."

"We won't. I promise," Ushijima cuts in, his voice surprisingly firm. "I'll try. We will work this out. We can work this out, right?"

"Please," he begs again and this time, he falls to his knees, strength leaving his body for the first time in his life. He felt so weak, utterly pitiful because he couldn't protect the only thing he should've protected in the first place.

He wanted to tell you so many things, words scrambling in his head but they wouldn't come out.

I was just so scared. I was scared by how much I needed you, how much I cared about you, how much I wanted you. I never cared for anyone else as much as I cared about you and it scares the hell out of me because I never felt this way with anyone else. Only you. Only with you.

Ushijima could feel the hand he was holding tremble and he gives it a light squeeze, urging you to look at him.

I am enamored by you. I yearn for you. With you, it felt like everything fell into place and I was just so scared so I pushed you away and hurt you.

He watched as your tears mix with raindrops, drawing short, shaky breaths to try and steady yourself. The grip you had on his hand is tight, enough to make him feel something, anything other than the void that grows inside him every second now.

"I think it's right that we let this love go, Wakatoshi. Losing myself once because of my love for you is enough and I am grateful you showed me that."

With your lips pressed softly against his, you whispered, "I will always love you, Wakatoshi," before you took a step back and turned.

He watched as you walked away and the only thing he could do then is let the rain take his tears and words away.

Please, don't leave me.

[noctvrnal9999]

Ascended Astarion, Cazador Szarr and how they are NOT alike (at all)

Some of you probably saw this coming already, that I would go out of my way to talk about the whole "Ascended Astarion is Cazador 2.0" thing because it's such a ridiculous notion. Here it is, my personal take on why I disagree.

First and foremost I will address the whole: "Oh my GOD Astarion follows the Four Rules right from the beginning!" mindset. Here they are, the rules as Vellioth passed them down onto Cazador:

First, thou shalt not drink of the blood of thinking creatures.

Second, thou shalt obey me in all things.

Third, thou shalt not leave my side unless directed.

Four, thou shalt know that thou art mine.

Rule one is pretty obvious - don't drink blood of thinking creatures. That's one of the tools Cazador used to keep his Spawn subservient and demoralized. We don't get any in-game information that Cazador went back on this rule in any instance whatsoever, seems it was very much set in stone for him. Ascended Astarion (which I will shorthand to AA from this point on) breaks this rule the moment he Ascends with his Blood Bride/Groom. Not only he gives player character his blood (willingly, I will mention), he speaks also about drinking PC's blood and they drinking his:

Already breaking the very first rule he himself had to obey for two centuries. And in-game mechanics support this of course, PC can use Bite action on anyone who is not classified as undead (like Astarion, for example, PC can freely chomp on him if they wish so).

Rule two is also obvious - Cazador compelled his Spawn through his bond as their master. That is evident in the scene where Astarion's siblings attack the camp:

They have no choice but to obey Cazador's command even if they struggle. The only reason Astarion is free because of the tadpole. We could apply same logic to Bride/Groom PC, that Astarion cannot compel PC only because of the tadpole. However, PC can ask Astarion about this:

To which he replies:

The implication here is that he thinks he can compel PC but he's choosing not to. Now, whenever you subscribe to the theory I presented before that he can't compel PC and is lying or not, it's up to you, but if we're taking this line at face-value only it's very very clear - AA is not going to compel PC, to him it's a ridiculous idea (Why would I need to?). He trusts that PC and him are on the same page (and personally I read the second part of his sentence as being cheeky, but maybe that's just me.)

Rule three, just like first two, is simple and easy to understand - don't leave your "master" unless directed. Cazador sent out his Spawn to lure victims for two hundred years, however, Astarion, if we believe he can compel PC, is not even attempting to make PC stay by his side (or send them away, for that matter). All he says is this:

And this is in conversation about not being able to walk in the sun, which is about his newfound powers being extended to PC. Nothing in any dialogues (that I can remember) suggests that he commands PC to stay by his side. The only such dialogue option appears in the epilogue (keep in mind that epilogue was added later) and if you legitimately argue with AA (I would never do it but there's some crazies out there, stay safe xoxo) but to be completely honest you can ask for your freedom:

To which he replies:

Even if we take this as "daunting" as some people portray it to be, we still see AA acting more like a brat-tamer than a cruel master Cazador has been. Try putting these lines into Cazador's mouth and tell me they work lol.

Rule four is self explanatory. And this one we can definitely apply to AA. From the moment of Ascension he insists confirming to PC that well, they are his, but he also emphasizes that he is theirs in turn (if blood drinking line is anything to go by). Vampires by nature are possessive, it makes sense that AA feels the need to speak about it. PC is the only person he ever loved, now he's expressing that love, albeit maybe a tad intensively (according to some).

But on the flip side, where AA can be seen as possessive as Cazador, AA does 180 and shares his power and status with PC. There's an incredible amount of lines in the game where he speaks about being equals, sharing power and standing side by side, unlike Cazador.

And these are just couple from same conversation, there's so many more, but pay close attention how many times he says "we" or "you and me". PC is not just a spawn to him, not someone to be controlled but a true equal, sharing power, wealth and goals.

Which leads me to another point that needs addressing and emphasizing - AA is still a vampire, just like Cazador. Yes, these two creatures are power-hungry, that's in their nature, in any vampire's nature. I'll draw attention to the fact that even as a Spawn, Astarion is hungry for power and freedom. Once he has freedom, his goal still remains power. While Cazador's goal was to become Ascendant, AA's is well, world domination, basically. He surely has the time if not power to try and achieve that. However, this doesn't make him "just like" his former master, it just makes him a vampire.

And let's not forget that even before becoming a vampire Astarion was already power-hungry, which is clear from his choice of career as a Magistrate. Albeit a far shout from world domination, he still sought positions of power even while alive.

So to summarize before this becomes too lengthy - AA is simply a vampire. Not a reflection of his former master. They share some traits because they belong to same caste by the end of Astarion's personal quest, but that doesn't make him any more similar to Cazador than any other Vampire Lord or even Strahd.

Simply put - AA is a monster. Vampires are classified as monsters and they are Lawfully Evil aligned in DnD. Just because he has unpleasant traits, it doesn't mean he took them from Cazador. It just means that he has unpleasant traits. Make the man accountable for his own flaws (or just generic vampire traits), after all, as Ascendant, I'm sure he take it :)

[mysterious-moonstruck-musings]

Closed Position: Week 4 (Jive Part 2)

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: 16.6k

👉 Warnings: Themes dealing with intimate partner violence (not from Dieter), past alcohol abuse, and past drug abuse. There will be fluff, tears, spicy language, and smut. This will be a slow burn. Read at your own risk. Dieter Bravo comes with his own warnings.

Chapter Quote: I’m so fucked.

Kat's POV On my drive home from the diner, my thoughts were only of Dieter. His mood had been all over the place this week. I really had been concerned about him slipping up and felt more relief than I probably should have when he mentioned his therapy appointment. At least he seemed to be handling things the right way. I couldn’t figure out what suddenly had made him so upset, but I felt like it had something to do with me. He had been more distant since the show on Monday, and I didn’t understand why. 

When Dieter came into the dance studio on Wednesday, I could tell that Alec’s presence was affecting him. Having both men in the same space with no one else around made me nervous. It was obvious that Dieter didn’t care for Alec and vice versa. The tension between the two of them was so thick, I was concerned about another confrontation. Luckily, Alec didn’t stick around long. 

However, the tension was still there even after Alec left. I couldn’t take it anymore. I had to ask Dieter what was going on. I figured it had something to do with me giving Alec another chance. I knew how Dieter felt about the way Alec treated me, but for a brief moment, I couldn’t help wondering if there was more to it - if maybe he was feeling something for me too. Something more than concern for a friend’s safety. 

It pissed me off when he said he was disappointed in my choice, even though he had every right to be. It was hard to hear because I knew he wasn’t wrong. It was a bad decision, and I could already feel the regret setting in. The burst of anger did fuel me to ask what I really wanted to know, if there was another reason he was so upset about it. I knew him well enough to know that he wouldn’t answer it honestly, but he did falter. I briefly considered his response, something about it causing butterflies to form in my stomach. My gut was telling me there was something else, but the logical part of my brain didn’t believe it.  

His pleas that followed to not let it get bad and the burning look in his eyes caused a shift in the tension. I couldn’t fight the urge to touch him, my hand involuntarily reaching for his cheek. He surprised me by leaning into it before taking my hand in both of his. The moment turned oddly intimate, and I wanted nothing more than to tell him how I was feeling, but I knew I couldn’t. It was wrong to be feeling those things for him. I knew that I needed to keep it professional, for all our sake. 

Dieter seemed to return to his normal self after that, which had me questioning things all over again. Surely that wasn’t all that had been bothering him? I worked to brush that thought aside. I was just happy to have him back. Given that the day had ended so well, I wasn’t ready to be away from him. I had missed his light and wanted it to shine on me just a little bit longer. So, I asked him to try the Greek diner with me, which turned out to be a terrible idea. 

The last two hours had sent my thoughts and feelings into a tailspin. Dieter seemed to be opening up to me more and more each time we were together. Tonight felt…different. Not unlike how it felt when I had dinner at his place. He was attentive and maybe even a little flirty. The way he kept looking at me was causing my thighs to clench together under the table. I wasn’t sure if it was just a physical attraction or more. He definitely had me reevaluating things during my whole drive home.

It was already getting late by the time I pulled into the garage. I hadn’t heard from Alec at all, even though he said he was planning to come over for the night so we could go out for breakfast before our rehearsals started the next morning. I was both annoyed that he hadn’t at least texted me and relieved that I might not have to deal with him. I was settling into bed, planning to go down a social media rabbit hole on the Dieterina hashtag when I heard the front door open. I sighed, set my phone on the docking station to charge, then laid down to go to sleep. 

I could hear Alec moving around to get ready for bed, eventually settling in at my back and pulling me against his body to kiss my cheek. He smelled of cigarettes and something else I couldn’t figure out. Something floral maybe? It wasn’t normal and it made my stomach turn. When I only acknowledged him and didn’t escalate things, he sighed heavily then turned away and quickly fell asleep. 

My mind began racing. Was that perfume or something he had eaten or drank? I couldn’t tell and it was sending me into a spiral. I hated having to worry about this. I shouldn’t have to. And did I really have a right to? I wasn’t behaving much better than him today, and the thoughts I had been having were a whole other thing. 

And so what if it was perfume? He had been rehearsing with Lana half the day. It could just as easily be from that. Surely that’s all it was, if anything. Right? I was trying my best to be rational about this and give him the benefit of the doubt, but it was hard. Would I ever stop thinking like this when it came to him? 

It took forever for me to finally fall asleep, but I had managed to calm my thoughts by then. Not that it was a restful sleep. I spent most of the night tossing and turning, plagued by weird dreams that I couldn’t remember after waking. They only left me with a sense of foreboding that I couldn’t seem to shake. 

The following morning, I was in the bathroom getting ready when Alec came in. He hugged me from behind, burying his face into my neck and sighing dramatically. 

“Baby, I’m gonna have to skip out on breakfast. Marc just texted me and asked if we could switch rehearsal times. Something about a sick kid…So, we’re gonna head in earlier than planned.” 

He raised his head, giving me his best sad puppy face in the mirror as he rested his chin on my shoulder. 

I let out a controlled breath, sticking the mascara wand back into the container. No sense in getting ready now. “That’s ok…it’s understandable. It was nice of you to do that for him.”

“Yeah, so I guess imma head out. Maybe we can grab dinner later?”

I nodded, turning to kiss him goodbye. Only, he didn’t kiss me on the lips, he kissed me on the forehead and walked off without a second glance or another word. Something about that didn’t sit right. It stunned me actually. 

After I heard the front door shut, I moved to peek out through the curtains. Alec already had his phone to his ear with a smile on his face as he got into the driver's seat. Something about this felt off. 

I took a deep breath, moving to get my phone from the nightstand. Alec wasn’t a huge fan of Marc, often calling him a stuck up prick because he wouldn’t go out partying with the rest of the guys at all hours of the night. Marc was married and had young kids, so of course he didn’t do that. It was hard for me to believe that Alec would do anything to help Marc out given his feelings about him. Alec wasn’t typically very accommodating to people he didn’t care for. I was also fairly certain Marc usually had evening rehearsals, so he could be home with the kids while his wife was working. 

I pulled up Marc’s contact information and hit the call button. I worked to steady my breathing as the phone rang. Part of me hoped he didn’t answer out of fear from what I would learn. He did answer though. 

“Hey Kat, what’s up?” 

“Hey Marc, sorry to bother you. I just wanted to double check, did you by chance change your studio time for today?” 

“Nope, it should still be our usual evening time slot. Why?”

His answer knocked the air out of my lungs. I knew Alec was lying. I somehow managed to compose myself and quickly think up an explanation. 

“Not a huge deal, they had us double booked, but I think I’ve figured out a solution. I just wanted to check first before calling Dieter with the change.”

“Oh damn, that’s annoying. Do I need to do anything?”

“Na, I’ve got it sorted. You guys should be good.”

“Awesome. Thanks for catching that or we might’ve been sharing.” 

“No problem. I may see you around later. Enjoy your morning.”

“You too. Thanks again! Bye.”

I wasn’t sure what to do with this information. It didn’t necessarily mean he was cheating, but why else would he need to lie like that? I puffed air out of my cheeks, deciding to throw on my gym clothes and go to his place to see if he was there. 

A short time later, I found myself pulling into a parking spot at Alec’s apartment complex. I noticed his car was in its usual assigned space, so I decided to go in. As I was unbuckling my seatbelt, I spotted Lana walking up the steps leading to his second floor landing. I froze, watching as she knocked on the door. A few seconds later, Alec was there, pulling her tightly against him and kissing her with a lot more enthusiasm than he had with me lately. 

It hurt to see it, but I needed to. With the previous incidents, Alec swore he was never physical with those women. I didn’t believe him, but I also had no proof either. This time, there was no denying it. They definitely had something going on and clearly had for some time. 

The oddest mix of emotions was swirling inside of me. There was relief of course, but there was also hurt and anger. I had given up so much for this asshole and this was how he continued to repay me. After letting anger win the battle as the dominant emotion, I sat trying to reason with myself on the best way to handle this. I wanted to confront him, but I was also worried about his reaction. Would he get violent? 

I hesitated, but eventually stepped out of the car and began walking toward his apartment. When I reached the 2nd floor landing, I realized his door was still slightly ajar. The dumbass didn’t even get it shut all the way. As I got closer, I could hear them, on the sofa I assumed, already fucking. I felt sick from the sounds. It was made worse by the words that were coming out of Alec’s mouth; She’s the only one he needs, the only one who means anything to him, the only one he wants…it went on and on. I couldn’t listen anymore, reaching to push the door open with force, causing it to slam into the wall. 

Alec was seated on the couch with Lana straddling his lap, now trying to cover herself with her hands at the sound of the door. I got an eye full as his unprotected dick slipped out of her when she turned to look in my direction. 

I was seething. He couldn’t even wrap it up. He wasn’t even worried about bringing something home to me. Looks like my concerns were valid. 

“Kat…w-what the fuck are you doing?” Alec sputtered, shocked by my sudden appearance. 

I took a steadying breath, determined not to cry in front of him. “I just wanted you to know that I heard it with my own ears and I’m seeing it with my own eyes. There’s no sweet talking your way out of it this time you fucking asshole.”

“Baby, come on. Let’s talk about this…” 

He moved to get up, but Lana pushed him back against the sofa, refusing to get off his lap. Then she turned back to me, a sly smile on her lips. 

“What are you smiling about? He’s your fucking problem now.” 

I turned to leave, overhearing Lana telling Alec not to go after me as I moved toward the stairs. I had to applaud her, at least she seemed to have some authority over him. For now, anyway. In time, he would probably break her down too. 

In an odd way, I felt like that confrontation had taken some of his power away from him. He couldn’t lie his way out of it. There was no way he could twist this in his favor and save face. He wasn’t going to control me anymore. He couldn’t. My chains were broken, and I wasn’t going back. 

After sitting in my car for several minutes, the adrenaline rush was beginning to wear off, and now the hurt was setting in. The things he had said to Lana told me how little he actually cared about me. Why did he fight so hard to keep me around if he didn’t want to be with me? Or had he just been telling her what she wanted to hear? He was good at that tactic. 

I was left feeling like I had wasted the last six years of my life, for nothing. I was suddenly full of grief over everything that I had given up for Alec, and regret for the way I had allowed him to treat me. It was a relief to be done with him, but that didn’t make it hurt any less. I loved him once after all. We had been happy in the beginning and at one time I believed we could find our way back to that. The tears were coming now. I needed to get away from his apartment. 

I backed out of the parking spot and headed home. Once locked inside, I let the tears fall as I crawled into bed and sobbed into a pillow. An hour had passed when I finally checked the time. Realizing that I needed to pull it together and get ready for rehearsals. We were filming today, and I refused to do it looking like an emotional mess. 

After dragging myself out of bed, I moved to the bathroom to examine the damage. My eyes were red and swollen. I applied a warm compress, hoping it would take some of the swelling out. It helped some, but not enough. After washing my face, I worked to put a little more makeup on than I would normally wear in hopes it would make it less noticeable. It seemed to help some. 

I had to rush to make it to the dance studio in time. The camera crew was already there setting up and coming at me with a mic pack as soon as I walked through the door. I did my best to act normal, but from the way Dieter was eyeing me, I could tell he knew something was off. I knew he wouldn’t ask with hot mics on us, so that gave me some reprieve. 

My mood improved as we began to rehearse. Dieter of course found ways to make me smile, like he always did. Things seemed almost normal by the time the camera crew left for the day, leaving us alone for the last two hours of rehearsal time. Dieter did ask if everything was ok since I seemed flustered and was a few minutes late. I lied and said Alec and I had gone out for breakfast, and I had gotten held up by a traffic accident on the way here. I didn’t think he bought it, but he didn’t question me on the topic any further. I hated lying to him, but I wasn’t ready to share what happened. I needed time to process and deal with it on my own first, otherwise I was going to break down into a crying heap if I tried to explain it now. 

Our last bit of studio time went on as normal, allowing me to forget about the whole Alec thing for a bit. Once our time was up, we gathered our things as Dieter shared the latest Zee antics with me. Mentioning that he was heading to the pet store as we walked to our cars to leave. He lingered for a moment after saying goodbye, like another question was on the tip of his tongue, but he never asked it. Instead, he smiled and gave me a quiet, “See ya tomorrow” as he got into his car. 

I was considering my next steps as I left the dance studio. I knew that I probably needed to get checked out since I had no idea what Alec had been up to. I was certain he used a condom every time we were together since I had first found out about his infidelity, but I realized that wasn’t fool proof, and he was a fucking idiot. I also realized that it didn't protect me from all STDs. There were other ways of catching things. 

I was silently cursing Alec as I pulled into the parking lot of one of the local walk-in clinics. It looked fairly empty, which was a positive. I sat there for a moment, trying to prepare myself for what I was about to do. I would have to explain my situation, which meant I would have to finally say it out loud. I just hoped I could keep it together. The fact that I was having to do this made me hate him more than I had ever hated anyone. 

Luckily, they got me in quickly. I gave a urine sample, had an exam, then had blood drawn, and was swabbed in all the places to be tested for every STD possible. I was stoic through the whole process. It was the only way to keep from falling apart on the poor medical staff. I was told it would take 5-10 days to get the results, which seemed like an eternity when dealing with stuff like this. It made me feel dirty and used. I shouldn’t have had to do it, yet here I was. I should have listened to my gut instinct a long time ago. It would have saved me a lot of stress and grief. 

With that out of the way, I finally made my way home. I decided to soak in the tub for a bit to try and relax. I was feeling a little achy, probably because I hadn’t really been taking care of myself this week since Alec had been around. I needed to do better so that it didn’t become an issue. We still had a lot of weeks left to get through.

As I sat in the tub, I started browsing Instagram. Eventually finding myself on Dieter’s page. I had given it a quick scroll when I first followed him but hadn’t looked since. I noticed he had added “Cat Daddy” to his bio which made me snicker. Then, I scrolled all the way back to the beginning. He didn’t have much posted. Based on one of his earlier posts he had removed a lot before he went to rehab. I assumed it was the less than flattering stuff from his party days. 

There had obviously been a shift in him. I could tell just from the few posts from before rehab that were still available. Most of his newer content focused on Zee, plants, and painting, which I loved to see. There were a couple of the same shots provided to us from the show that I had shared, but nothing else.

I caught myself going on a liking spree. I had to force myself to stop before I ended up liking all of his posts. As I scrolled back toward the top, one picture caught my eye. It was a shot from his “sanctuary”, the corner with the leather seats and guitars where we played together the previous week. He posted it the day after I had been there, with the hashtag #MyFavoritePlace. I couldn’t help but wonder if his post was related to my visit. I shook that question from my head. What a ridiculous thought, Kat. 

I was then drawn to a picture of his hands covered in dirt as they potted a plant. He really did have nice hands. They were large with long, thick fingers. The small bullseye tattoo only added to their appeal. My mind momentarily wandered to thoughts of those hands on my body but dismissed them. I can’t go there. If I do, there’s no coming back. I moved on to the next post. I was chuckling at Dieter’s Croc covered feet when notifications started to pop up. 

“bangingbravo1 liked your photo.”

They came in one after another. My liking spree must have prompted him to do the same. The only difference, he did like all of my posts, except for the ones that had Alec in them. OK, Bravo. You made your point. Publicly. He was so unapologetically himself and was not afraid to make his opinions known. I honestly loved that about him, but damn if that wasn’t going to cause some gossip if anyone noticed. 

I hit the little notification bell at the top and turned all notifications on for him without a second thought. I smiled to myself, hitting the ‘message’ button. 

ME: I feel like I’m being Instagram stalked right now…

He didn't keep me waiting long for a reply.

DIETER: I’m pretty sure you were stalking me first, sweetheart. 😉 (wink emoji)

My smile widened, he was trying to push my buttons. Truth be told, I kind of liked it when he did that. 

ME: I told you not to call me that, Bravo.

DIETER: My apologies…Kit Kat.

I rolled my eyes. He was never going to let that nickname go. 

ME: What are you up to this evening, besides liking all my posts?

DIETER: I was painting until my phone started blowing up with Instagram notifications.

ME: Oh yeah? What are you working on?

DIETER: Something new…it’s a secret.

My brow furrowed. What a weird response. He’s usually very open and excited to talk about his hobbies. 

ME: Oh come on, not even a hint?

A picture came through. It was obviously a close up shot of part of a painting. It just looked like swirls of purples, magenta, and black with oranges and yellows at the edge. I couldn’t tell what it was, but I was intrigued.

ME: Those are new colors for you. I like them.

DIETER: Well, I have new inspiration...

Why was he being so cryptic? It was causing butterflies in my stomach again.

ME: And that inspiration is…what?

DIETER: My 🐈 (cat emoji), of course.

Why didn’t he just say Zee? Unless he thought he was being slick with double meanings? Surely not. I held my breath as I typed my reply, then hit send without reading it. 

ME: Your feline or your human 🐈 (cat emoji)?

He started typing, then stopped. It took him a good thirty seconds before he started again. 

DIETER: I’m afraid you’ve hit your question and answer quota for today. My turn. What are you up to this evening?

I snorted, this was about to take a turn. Did I want to go there? I decided to keep it PG, not wanting to make it weird. 

ME: Just trying to relax my aching bones.

DIETER: And how does my human 🐈 (cat emoji) do that? No hints? 😏 (smirk emoji)

My thighs clenched together. He did not just fucking say that. I wasn’t sure how to respond. Were we flirting? I chewed on my bottom lip as I thought through my options. Another message popped up.

DIETER: I’m sorry. That might have been a little inappropriate to say.

He was one hundred percent flirting and now worried he overstepped. Alright Bravo, if you’re gonna go there…then I am too. 

ME: If I give you an inappropriate hint, will you answer my question?

DIETER: That depends on how inappropriate your hint is…

I chewed my lip again, thinking. I muttered a quiet “Fuck it” as I propped my bubble covered legs up on the side of the tub and snapped a picture. It’s not like he hadn’t seen more than that from my costumes. Then again, this implied I was currently naked and wet. 

I decided not to send it through Instagram, instead pulling up his contact info and sending it as a text. I felt nauseous afterward, worried I was misreading things. He was taking entirely too long to respond. The bubbles finally started bouncing, indicating he was typing.

DIETER: I feel cheated. Your toes are cropped out. Your answer is a no go.

I snorted. He obviously didn’t have a problem with it.

ME: Please tell me you don’t have a thing for feet. That’s just gross.

DIETER: I’ll take what I can get. I’m not picky. Besides, you probably wouldn’t say that after one of my foot massages.

My thighs clenched again. Fuck. Why is that doing things to me? Probably because it implies he’s good with his hands…his very large hands.

ME: Are you offering?

DIETER: All you have to do is ask, honey. I’ll do anything I can to help you feel better. 😉 (wink emoji)

Fuuuuck. I can't deal with him. He was sending my mind spiraling straight into the gutter. For a brief moment, I wondered if my vibrator was charged before scolding myself for going there. I was so fucking ridiculous. How did I go from being distraught over my ex cheating on me to this? I needed to chill and get my life figured out before I ruined mine and Dieter’s friendship. 

ME: Well, I hate to cut this conversation short, but my water is getting cold. I’ll see you in the morning?

DIETER: Of course. And for the record, I do have a hydrotherapy tub that doesn’t get cold. You can use it anytime.

DIETER: I swear I’m not trying to be weird with that. I know it helps with arthritis pain. 😂 (laughing to tears emoji)

I laughed, almost tempted to ask if it would fit two people but refrained. I knew he was only trying to be helpful. 

ME: That’s good to know. 😂 (laughing to tears emoji). Go to bed. I’ll see you in the morning.

DIETER: I will do as I’m told. Goodnight Kit Kat.

ME: Goodnight.

I got ready for bed after that. My mind was now jumping all over the place. I realized that I hadn’t heard from Alec since leaving his apartment, which was unusual for him. Normally he would be blowing up my phone with calls and texts. Maybe he knew it was over this time and wasn’t even going to bother to try to fix it. I could only hope that was the case because I didn’t want to deal with him. 

Then my thoughts went back to Dieter. I was so confused about my feelings for him. I wanted him physically, yes. That much was obvious. What I didn’t know was what I wanted beyond that. I wasn’t sure if I could trust what I was feeling. How much of it was real and how much of it was a result of our situation? We were both in a perfect storm of emotions, looking for happiness and somehow finding it in each other through dancing. 

It’s not unusual for dance partners to fall for each other because the physical closeness and intimacy involved does cause the release of oxytocin in the brain. That fact is common knowledge among dancers, and it fuels the long debate about if the dance connection between partners is real or if it’s just a temporary psychological effect from hormones. Is that what was happening here? Would the intense feelings for him fade once the show was over? It was certainly something to consider. 

Granted, I’ve had a lot of dance partners in my life and never felt like this before. It was similar with Alec, but nowhere near as intense and those feelings with him waned over time. However, I could attribute that to his shitty personality and the way he treated me. We still danced together, so in the end that didn’t save us either. 

By the time I finally started to fall asleep, I was more confused and conflicted than ever. I decided that I would just go with it and see what happened. It was really the only thing I could do. It wasn’t like Dieter had expressed interest in anything more anyway. He was in recovery after all and did say he was taking a break from dating as part of that process. So, I was probably getting myself worked up over nothing. 

The next morning, I awoke feeling surprisingly lighter and more relaxed. The prospect of being done with Alec for good seemed to remove a lot of pent up stress and anxiety. Plus, Friday rehearsals typically went pretty easy for us since we had our routine down. It was just about fine tuning with the music now, allowing us to have a little more fun with it. 

When I got to the dance studio, Dieter hadn’t arrived yet. I wasted a few minutes getting the music ready and stretching. Then I checked the time, realizing he was a few minutes late. I was suddenly worried that something might be wrong, he was usually a few minutes early if not right on time. I was reaching for my phone to send him a quick text when he walked through the door with his cell phone to his ear. He looked a little wild-eyed as he said his goodbyes to end the call, but also seemed to be fighting a smile.

Once he was finished, he dropped his bag onto the floor and gave me a cheesy grin. 

I gave him a confused look, “What’s going on?” 

He put one hand on his hip, the other was rubbing his chin. “Well, I got invited to do SNL. I didn’t think that would ever happen again.”

I gave him a toothy smile, “Dieter, that’s awesome. I’m excited for you!”

He held up his pointer finger and grimaced, “Slight problem though…” He paused. 

I raised my brows, waiting for him to continue. 

“It’s for next week. That Gosling dude dropped out at the last minute, and they don’t have a lot of options.”

My face fell, “How’s that supposed to work?”

He laughed nervously, “Well, how do you feel about going to New York with me for the week…so we can still rehearse?”

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. I can’t do that. “Dieter, I don’t know if the producers will allow that.”

He was smirking now, “Actually, Lenny, my manager, talked to them this morning and they’re willing to make it work if you’re willing to go with. We would just have to film some things ourselves and there was something mentioned about promo stuff but I dunno what all that entails.”   

Fuck. He was really excited about this. I could tell from the look on his face. I knew this was a big deal for him and for his career. I really didn’t want to be the one thing to hold him back, but I needed to think about it - consider how it could affect things between us. 

“When do you have to let them know something by?” I asked.

“By tomorrow morning, but preferably as soon as possible.”

I nodded. “OK, let me think about it and figure out what exactly that means for us, work wise, if we go. I’d like to know those details first.”

He was nodding along now, “That makes sense. I know it’s short notice and a lot of extra stuff you were not planning on doing, so if you don’t want to, that’s OK. I swear. I don’t want you to feel pressured. I think we can make it work though…and I think it would be fun for us.”

I chuckled, “What I’m not fun enough for you already?” 

His eyes bulged, “No! That’s not what I meant. You know what I mean…and…I did also wanna ask if you’d be willing to do a skit with me.”

I snorted, “What? Like a SNL skit?!?!”

He nodded, “Yes. I have an idea for one.”

I shook my head, “Dieter, I’m not an actor. I can’t…do that.”

He rolled his eyes, “Sure you can. It could be one of the pre-recorded skits, so you don’t have to worry about the live part. I can coach you through it.” 

I took a deep breath, then let it out slowly. He seemed like he really wanted to do this, “What’s the idea?” 

He snickered, “Well…you remember when you said ‘Nobody puts Bravo in the corner’?”

I wasn’t following, “Yeeesss…”

“Well, I think it would be fun to do a Dirty Dancing parody, with the roles reversed.” 

I snorted, “You’re so fucking ridiculous.” 

He burst into laughter, “I know, that’s what makes it funny! It’ll be gold! Come on!” 

I sighed, “Let me think about it. I’ll let you know something in the morning, ok? It’s not a no…yet.”

He huffed and crossed his arms over his chest like a petulant child, “Ooook, fine. I’ll wait for you to think about it.” 

I rolled my eyes at him, then poked him in the chest, “Don’t be bugging me about it either, or I’ll say no.” 

He smirked, “OK. OK. Got it. Let’s rehearse then. I’m ready to get my Jive on today.” 

Dieter did his best Elvis hip wiggle on that last line, curling his lip upward as he spoke. It sent me into a fit of laughter that I struggled to come back from. This set the tone for the rest of the day. He seemed to be in an exceptionally good mood, even for him. The jokes kept coming one after another and he was acting a complete fool the entire time. I’m not sure we ever stopped laughing. He didn’t take himself seriously and I loved that about him. Alec had been the complete opposite, an uptight asshole, which often kept me on edge. It was a nice change, one that I wouldn’t mind being permanent.   

I was actually a little sad once rehearsals were over. We had a good day, and I wasn’t ready for it to end, but I needed to go home and figure out what to do about New York. After we said our goodbyes, I sent a quick text to Stacia and Joe. I needed to know what they were thinking because it sounded like they had a plan. As I was pulling into my garage, my cell rang. It was Joe asking if I could come in for a quick meeting the following morning. I agreed, which was essentially the end of the conversation. 

I had a million questions and did not understand how this was going to work. What about group rehearsals? Or the weekly behind the scenes filming? And what promo stuff would we be doing? Most of all, how the hell would we fit all this in around Dieter’s SNL schedule? It seemed like a lot, but I would be doing it with Dieter. Something told me that if I did go, things would not be the same when we got back. I just didn’t know if that was good or bad. 

The following morning, I had to get up extra early so I could go to Television City Studios to meet with Stacia and Joe. I thought it odd that they didn’t ask to meet with both Dieter and I together, so it automatically had me on edge. The fact that they had agreed to this told me that it was playing into whatever story they were trying to manufacture. So, I knew I had to watch myself. 

Surprisingly, I didn’t have to wait. I was taken back to the conference room straight away where I found Stacia and Joe in unusually bubbly moods. They were chomping at the bit to follow through with whatever they had planned for us. 

Once I was seated, I noticed Stacia looking at me oddly. I couldn’t figure out what it was about. She eventually realized I had noticed her staring, which prompted her to get things started.

“Kat, how are you doing? Everything still going OK with Dieter?”

My brow furrowed slightly, “Yeah, everything with Dieter is great. He’s doing well.” 

She nodded, “Good. That’s what we like to hear. So, I guess he told you about New York then based on your call?”

I nodded, “He did. I was surprised to hear that you guys approved it. I’m curious to hear your plans because I don’t understand how we can possibly pull this off. It’s a lot.” 

Joe smiled, “Actually, I think we can work it out pretty easily. We’re thinking you could take a break from group performances next week. In lieu of that, we can book you on a couple of morning shows. That would meet part of your contract obligations so that some of that stuff is out of the way.”

I took a minute to think about that, it wouldn’t be a bad thing. It would keep me away from Alec for the week too. 

“OK, and what about the behind the scenes filming? Will a crew be coming with us?”

Stacia laughed, “Na, I really don’t think that’s necessary. Dieter can handle some of the filming if we provide the equipment. We also ask that you two ramp up your social media posting a little bit more…maybe even come up with a hashtag or something.” 

They are being way too cool about this. What’s the catch? 

“Where will we rehearse?”

Stacia was still smiling as she continued to stare at me in that odd way, “We’ll book you a space in the hotel. You can rehearse as you have time. It obviously won’t be as structured as it is now, but we think you can work it out.”

How had they figured all of this shit out so quickly? What made them think I would even agree to go?

I pursed my lips in thought. “And our Tuesday morning pre-production meeting?”

“You won’t have to worry about that. We can go over everything now.” 

My brows knitted together, “Without Dieter?” 

Joe smiled politely, “We trust that you can pass the info along to him with no problem.” 

I narrowed my eyes at them, “Why didn’t you meet with both of us together about this?”

Stacia leaned forward, placing her hand on the table in a gesture that was meant to be comforting. “We wanted to run it by you without his influence. I didn’t want you to feel pressured by his presence. His manager made it pretty clear that he really wants to do this.”

I scoffed, “I appreciate the thought, but Dieter would never pressure me into anything. So that wasn’t necessary. I would appreciate it if we could keep our meetings together.” 

Stacia’s lips set into a tight line, “My mistake. Perhaps I should have asked first. Anyway, as far as the plans for next week, we have you doing the Rumba to Thinking Out Loud.” 

The fucking Rumba. Perfect. It was obvious she was fighting a smirk now as she dug around in her binder, and I knew why. The Rumba was one of the most intimate and sensual performances in ballroom dance. It was obvious they were doing everything they could to milk this situation. 

Stacia pulled some papers out, sketches for our costumes. “Luckily, we already had these ready to go. Dieter’s is pretty simple and shouldn’t be an issue. Stop by wardrobe before your spray tans tomorrow evening and they’ll have something similar ready for you to try on. They’ll rework parts of it to make it more like this. We wanna make sure your costumes are ahead of schedule just in case you have travel delays or anything like that.”

I sat staring at them wide-eyed, “Why are you telling me all this? I haven’t agreed.” 

Joe laughed nervously, “Well it’ll be the same details even if you don’t go. Just don’t tell the others you got your dance and song early or they’ll consider it an unfair advantage.”

No shit. This is so fucking bizarre. 

Stacia leaned forward on her elbows, “So, Kat…What are ya thinking? Is it manageable enough for you? Anything else we can do to make this easy on you?” 

What the actual fuck? The crease between my brows deepened. 

“No…I think I’m good. I’ll let you guys know what I decide. Anything else?”

Stacia leaned back in her seat, eyeing me in that weird way she had been since I arrived. “How’s Alec doing?”

I could feel my hackles rise. Why the fuck does she keep doing this? I glared at her for a moment before composing myself, somehow managing a small smile, “Alec is doing just fine...” With his fucking tramp. “If that’s all, I need to get going. I don’t wanna keep Dieter waiting for rehearsals.”

They both smiled, “Of course. We don’t wanna cut into your time, obviously.” Stacia added. 

I got out of there as quickly as I could. I was feeling frustrated and angry. It was obvious what they were up to, again pushing us together for their narrative. However, what frustrated me most was that I knew it might actually cause something to happen between us…or at least I wanted it to. This couldn’t have been set up any better for them.

On the drive to the dance studio, I considered my options. The most attractive thing about going was being away from Alec for a week and not having to dance with him. Fuck. I still have to dance with him on Monday. That was going to go over well. Maybe Emily will swap me with one of the other dancers. That’s going to be a big red flag to the entire cast, and they’ll instantly know something is up, but I guess it’s inevitable. They’re going to know eventually anyway. I was also going to have to face Alec at some point. I needed to prepare myself for that. 

I did need to consider Dieter in this. It was a big deal for him, I could tell. I didn’t want to be the only thing keeping him from doing something that could have a major impact on his career. I was also wondering what it would be like to spend the week with him, away from all this. It would allow us to get to know each other a little better, outside of the studio. It would also give me a chance to see him at work, which I was strangely curious about too. 

I pulled into a parking spot with a few minutes to spare. I sat there going through the pros and cons. There were only two cons that I could think of. One, which was honestly also a pro, something might happen between us. Two, if something did happen, it could ruin our friendship. Was the risk worth it? If Dieter is as amazing as I feel like he is and he wants to be with me, then yes. I think it might be worth it. 

I took a deep breath, then exhaled slowly to calm my nerves. “I can’t believe I’m gonna do this.” 

After a few more deep breaths, I grabbed my bag, got out of the car, and started walking toward the main entrance to the dance studio before I changed my mind. I found Dieter sprawled out on the floor, looking at his phone. He dropped the phone on his chest when I walked in, a smile spreading across his face as he greeted me. 

“There you are! I was about to text you. You’re later than normal.” 

He sat upright and slid his phone across the floor toward his bag. He moved to get up, but I stopped him. “Stay there. We can start our stretches on the floor.” 

He nodded, eyeing me as I sat my bag down and dug my water bottle out. When I turned to face him, he was looking at me expectantly. I knew he was waiting for my answer, but he wasn’t going to ask. I was tempted to wait until the end of rehearsal to tell him, but I knew he needed to know. 

I sat down in front of him and started stretching. He didn’t make any move to stretch with me, instead he continued to stare, his brows arching further into his hairline by the second. 

“Is there a reason you’re not stretching?” I asked, pretending I didn’t know what he was waiting on. 

He scoffed, “Are you messing with me right now?” 

A smile tugged at my lips, I couldn’t fight it. 

A tentative smile spread across his face once he realized it, “You’re gonna go with me?” 

I nodded. He jumped up, leaned down, and pulled me to my feet before I even realized what was happening. His arms wrapped around my middle, lifting me off the floor in a tight hug as he spun us around, thanking me over and over again. I laughed at his overly dramatic reaction, but I knew his excitement was real. 

He finally sat me down, holding my shoulder briefly to make sure I had my footing. 

“Kat, you seriously just made my day. This is a big fucking deal for me right now.” 

“I know. I don’t want you to miss out on the opportunity. It’s gonna be a lot of work though. You know that right?” 

He nodded, maybe a little too enthusiastically. “I’ll work my ass off, I promise…oh! I need to text Lenny so he can get things moving.” 

He ran over to grab his phone off the floor and started tapping away. 

“So, when do we need to leave?” I asked. 

He paused and stared at the ceiling, like he was doing calculations.

“Umm…” He grimaced. “Tomorrow, like right after the show is over probably? I don’t know the flight times though. We might have to do a red-eye.” 

It was my turn to grimace, “Oof. That’s rough. Damn, when are we gonna have time to pack?”

He shrugged, “You think we’re far enough ahead this week to cut out a few hours early? We do have the fucking spray tans later this evening. Ugh, can we skip that?” 

I chuckled, “I doubt it. Maybe we can next week though? Hopefully.” 

I looked at the time. “Let's get four hours in and see how we’re feeling. If all is well, I say we go pack. Otherwise, we’ll be up late doing that.” 

He nodded, “Sounds like a plan.”  

I watched as he opened the camera on his phone and put it in selfie mode, “Guess we better start our social media campaign.” 

He quickly leaned in, snapping a pic of himself and half of my head. I laughed, “I’m sure they’re gonna love that one.” 

He snickered as he tapped away at his phone for a couple more minutes, before setting it back down next to his bag. Suddenly, my phone dinged with an Instagram notification. Well, that’s embarrassing. He looked at me with narrowed eyes, “Do you have notifications turned on for my posts?” 

I shook my head, turning away as I fought a nervous smile, “No…of course not.” 

He stepped in front of me and placed his pointer finger under my chin, raising it so that I was looking at him. I felt the heat of his touch jolt through my entire body as he gave me the cockiest smirk. 

“Say that to my face, please.” 

I couldn’t say it without smiling, I was the worst liar. “I-umm…”

His smirk turned into his cheesy lopsided grin as he tapped my nose with his finger, “That’s what I thought…Don’t worry Kit Kat. I know you love me. You don’t have to hide it.” 

He said it with a teasing tone, but that didn’t stop my eyes from widening at his words. “I-I just figured if we have to do all this social media stuff, I wanna know what you're posting about me. That’s all. Don’t get any crazy ideas.” 

He chuckled, “Mmmhmm. Sure. I’m on to you.” 

I scoffed and rolled my eyes, “Whatever, Bravo. Get to stretching so we can get out of here.” 

He locked eyes with me, leaning in as he spoke. “Yes ma’am. Where do you want me?” 

What. The. Fuck. Is that? I was fairly certain that I stopped breathing. His eyes were smoldering - absolutely burning into my soul. I cleared my throat, “O-On the floor.” 

That came out breathier than I had intended. He arched a brow at me. 

“You need to stretch.” I reminded him.

His eyes darted around my face as his teeth sunk into his bottom lip, trying to hold back a smile. Something told me that he knew exactly what he was doing. New York was going to be interesting.

Once I managed to get him focused, we hit rehearsals hard. The Jive was not an easy dance, so we were exhausted by the time our four hours were up. My hips and feet were beginning to ache. That figures. Just before a long ass flight too. 

We were feeling pretty good about where things were, so we did end up leaving early to go pack before the cast spray tan session. When I got home, I quickly checked Dieter’s Instagram post before I got started.

I felt a rush of excitement when I saw the post. He really put #SheSecretlyLovesMe as a fucking hashtag? I wasn’t prepared for that. It was obviously a joke, but something about it felt a little flirty. There was also something about seeing a selfie of us together. It wasn’t like one of the performance shots from the show. This was personal and intimate in a weird way. We were letting the public into what I thought was our carefully crafted bubble. 

I had to push those thoughts out of my head, I didn’t have time for that now because I had to rush to pack. It was a struggle, half of my laundry was dirty because I hadn’t felt like doing it. I had to get creative with my outfit choices for the week, only having time to wash and dry one load. I managed to get most of it taken care of before it was time to leave for our latest spray tan session. 

During the drive over, I could feel my nervousness setting in over the possibility of seeing Alec and Lana. Not knowing how they were going to act toward me or behave toward each other was the biggest cause of it. Their behavior had the potential to cause some serious drama.  

Once I got to Television City Studios, I waited in my car until I saw Dieter arrive. I didn’t want to chance getting cornered by Alec or Lana alone. By the time I moved to get out, Dieter was already there with a questioning look on his face.

“What are you doing? Hiding in your car?” 

I laughed nervously, “I wasn’t hiding…I was just taking care of some last minute stuff.” I lied. 

He nodded, “Yeah, I feel you on that. I’ve had to make a long list of instructions for my assistant. He’s on plant and cat duty while I’m gone.” 

I chuckled, “Shouldn’t he be coming with you?”

Dieter snickered, “Umm, normally he would, yes. But he can run my calendar and boss me around remotely. I guess I need to find a permanent plant and cat sitter for when I’m gone though…”  

He looked pensive for a moment, “Are there professionals that do that sort of thing? Like certified? I’m pretty picky about that shit…I can’t leave them with just any random person. Especially Zee. She’s probably gonna be a mess while I’m gone...” 

I would’ve laughed at him if he didn’t look completely serious and sincere with his words. Could he be anymore fucking adorable? The care that he gave to his plants and Zee was completely melting my heart. If I knew nothing else about him, that alone would probably make me fall for him. 

I stood there taking in his expression, his lips pursed as he considered the question before he reached to rub at the back of his neck and sighed. The prospect of having to find someone to fill those important shoes while he was out of town seemed like a massive feat for him. My mind wandered, questioning if that was something I could do for him - take care of the things he cared about most when he couldn’t. I found myself wanting to. I wanted to take care of him. 

I suddenly realized Dieter was staring at me with questioning eyes. Shit, he said something to me, didn’t he?

I shook my head, “I’m sorry, what?” 

He smiled nervously, “Are you ok? You seem a little distracted. Am I boring you with my plant and cat problems?”

I gave him a genuine smile, “Absolutely not. I love hearing about your cat and plants.” We started walking toward the front entrance. “Please never stop telling me about them.” I added. 

He chuckled shyly, “If it gets annoying, just tell me to shut the fuck up. I know that I get carried away sometimes.” 

I shook my head, “You will never hear that from me.” 

He reached to pull the door open for me, then lightly placed his hand at the small of my back as he followed me through the door. His touch caused sparks at the base of my spin that shot out all the way to my fingertips and toes. I don’t know why because he often touched me there while we were dancing. This was nothing new. I can only assume it had to do with how casually he touched me off the dance floor these days. Especially since he had such an aversion to it in the beginning. 

We made our way toward the dressing rooms, eventually parting ways so we could get changed for our spray tans. Just as I was closing the door behind me, Alec and Lana passed by. Figures they would be here already. I sighed. I really did not want to be alone around them. 

I toed off my shoes, then stood there for a moment, feeling like there was something I was supposed to do. Then suddenly I realized I had forgotten that we were supposed to go to the wardrobe department first. “Shit.”

I grabbed my phone to text Dieter. I wasn’t even sure if he knew we were supposed to do that. 

Me: Hey, I forgot…we’re supposed to check in with wardrobe about next week’s costumes before tanning. 

Dieter: That would make sense…heading your way. 

There was a knock at the door. I turned to open it without a glance. Instead, I wandered around the room to find my flip flops as Dieter pushed the door open and leaned against the door frame with his arm above his head. Once I had my shoes on and moved toward the door, I was taken aback by how good he looked. I’m almost certain I froze on the spot as my eyes scanned up his broad towering form. It must have been obvious what was going through my head based on the smirk that appeared on his lips when my gaze finally met his. 

“You see something you like, honey?” He said in a husky voice. 

I swallowed thickly, “No, I see someone who’s standing in my way. Are you gonna move?” 

He chuckled, stepping to the side to let me pass, but I hesitated. Tensing once I caught sight of Alec and Lana walking back down the hallway toward the spray tan room. Alec’s back was toward us, but Lana’s was not. Her eyes connected with mine, she gave me a curious smile as they passed by. I could feel my jaw tighten as I inhaled a deep breath. I felt Dieter’s hand on the small of my back again, grounding me from whatever spiral I was about to go down. 

I felt him lean in close to my ear. “Kat is everything ok?” he asked quietly. 

“Yeah, of course. Let’s go.” 

He gave me an odd look before motioning for me to exit through the doorway. He followed, closing the door behind us. 

Minutes later we found ourselves in the wardrobe department, Amy and her assistant were in a tizzy trying to find clothing in the proper size for us. Apparently, Dieter had slimmed down some since rehearsals started, which wasn’t unusual given how much exercise we were getting. So, they had to size his black pants down. They were still having an issue with the white button up shirt being too tight in the shoulders and chest. Of course they are, because he’s so fucking broad.

His slightly smaller waist was now emphasizing just how broad he actually was. I couldn’t help staring at his reflection in the mirror as they fussed over him, pinning and marking for alterations at the waist of the shirt as they joked about how many buttons he would need to leave open so he could move properly without ripping the shoulder seams. 

As I took him in, I noticed the pants were a different style than what they usually gave him. The fit was snugger in the thighs and ass, emphasizing all the right parts of him. Add that to the way the plain white button up shirt was hugging his biceps and shoulders…it nearly had me salivating like a crazed animal. Who knew such a simple outfit could look so fucking hot on a man. 

My attention was drawn back to the conversation happening around me when Amy asked with a sly smile what I thought about the costume. Fuck, she totally caught me ogling him. My eyes were drawn to Dieter’s in the mirror. He was smirking at me as he waited for an answer. Busted. Again. If I kept this up, he was eventually going to ask me point blank what my fucking problem is. 

I cleared my throat, “I mean…I think it looks great. Can’t go wrong with the classics.” 

They seemed happy with their handiwork at that point. Helping him remove this shirt so that he didn’t get stuck with pins. Meanwhile, I was ogling him again. I did not need to see him like this because he looked too fucking good. It seemed like his belly had shrunk some, but he was still soft around the middle, the way I liked. His shoulders and chest seemed more sculpted if that were even possible. I had to force myself to turn away before I got caught again, though from the cocky glances I noticed Dieter shooting my way, I think I may already have been.

After that, Dieter was off to the changing room to put his clothes back on and it was my turn to be poked and prodded at. They had put me in a backless white dress that had a low cut sparkly bodice and a feathered bottom half. It looked nothing like the sketch Stacia had shown me, but I didn’t question it. 

“Alright Kat, instead of making yours from scratch, I’m gonna rework this one. That way we at least have the sizing on the bodice and straps worked out.” She turned, grabbing a bolt of fabric, offering it to me to look at. 

“I’m gonna redo the bottom half with a sheer white fabric that I’ve ordered. It’ll have silver threading and beading to match the bodice. It’s similar to this but has a little more bling and it’ll be more romantic and flowy looking.”

I nodded, “Sounds good. I trust that it’ll look amazing with you in charge.” 

Dieter was behind me now, coming closer to inspect the bolt of fabric I was holding before letting his eyes scan over every inch of the dress. He arched an eyebrow and smiled at Amy, “I think that’s gonna look awesome, Amy. Then again, Kat can make a potato sack look amazing.”

He turned away, like he hadn’t just dropped a bomb, going to stand out of the way so Amy could get to work. I was shocked over his comment as I turned to Amy with my mouth slightly agape, catching a look pass between her and her assistant. Great, there’s some gossip for the cast to spread around.   

After Amy was satisfied with her alterations, they left Dieter and I alone for a few minutes to go pull shoe options for me. I decided to break the tension by suggesting we snap a quick picture for Instagram, figuring we might as well get into a habit of it now. Dieter leaned over in front of the mirror with a small smile while I snapped a few pictures with my phone. I took the opportunity to make a teaser post that we had big plans for the following week.

A few seconds after posting it, Dieter’s phone chimed in his pocket. I gave him a smug look, “Now who has Instagram alerts turned on?”  

He shrugged, “I mean, if you’re gonna be making posts about me…I wanna know what you're saying.” 

I narrowed my eyes and nodded, “Mmmhmm. Sure.” 

Amy returned then, offering me four options for shoes. Once I made my choice, I went to change out of the costume. We hustled to get back to our dressing rooms so we could change into our “spray tan” gear, then made our way to where the cast was congregating to wait their turn. They had already started the session, but to my dismay, Alec and Lana were still waiting. I had hoped they were done and gone already. I made a point to stay as far away from them as possible while also trying to not look in their direction. Of course, Dieter noticed. 

“Is Alec too good to talk to you when I’m around now?” he asked, eyeing them on the other side of the room. 

I sighed, “He probably hasn’t noticed me. It’s not a big deal.” 

His brows furrowed, “Oh he one hundred percent noticed you. I saw him looking…”

I felt panic rising in my chest and my face tensing, “I said it’s not a big deal. Drop it.”  There was no way I could explain what happened without getting emotional right now. I didn’t want to give Alec that satisfaction.

Dieter gave me a look of confusion but didn’t question it further. If he hadn’t realized something was up before, he definitely did now. I changed the subject, more so to give myself something else to focus on than anything, “You wanna grab some dinner after this? I’m starving.”

He gave me a guarded look, “Sure. What did you have in mind?”

I thought for a moment, “I’m thinking burritos. It’s a burrito kind of day.” 

He nodded, “I think I can get behind that.” 

We managed to avoid Alec and Lana for the reminder of our time there. Luckily, we didn’t have to wait long before one of the production assistants called us in. The staff had apparently been told to get us through as quickly as possible, which I appreciated. Stacia and Joe had actually done something right for once. 

Dieter and I finished up with our spray tans around the same time. I took advantage of it and walked back toward the dressing rooms with him, still paranoid about running into Alec or Lana. Luckily, we didn’t. We briefly parted to our respective dressing rooms to change. I was digging around in my gym bag, trying to find my shirt when Dieter knocked at the door. I yelled for him to come, not paying him any attention as I got more aggravated that I couldn’t find what I was looking for. 

I puffed air out through my cheeks and placed my hands on my hips, confused as to why I couldn't find my shirt. I finally met Dieter’s wide-eyed gaze, now realizing I was standing there in jeans and a black push-up bra. 

I sighed, “Put your eyes back in your head, Bravo. It’s not like you haven’t seen me in athletic wear before.” 

He laughed nervously, “That’s true…however, athletic wear doesn’t emphasize things like that.” 

I rolled my eyes at him as he tried not to stare at my chest. He eventually leaned down and picked something up that must have fallen out of my bag.

“That what you’re looking for?” he asked as he handed it to me. 

My forehead dropped into my palm as I sighed, “Yes…it is. Thank you. I thought I forgot it.” 

After throwing the t-shirt over my head, I started gathering my belongings. He watched me intently as I shoved things into my bag more forcefully than necessary. I wasn’t even sure why I was suddenly so irritated. I assume it was from seeing that asshat with her again. 

“Kat, did something happen? You know you can tell me. I feel like something’s going on with you the last couple of days.” He said gently.

Great job hiding it, Kat. I turned to face him, fighting back my emotions before I responded. “Yes. Ok. Something happened…but…I-I don’t wanna talk about it right now. Can we just have a normal evening? Please? I promise I’ll tell you. I just need time to process it.” 

His brow furrowed as anger flashed in his eyes. 

I shook my head, “He didn’t hurt me, if that’s what you're thinking. It’s…not that.” It seemed to calm him knowing that much at least. I shoved the last of my stuff in my bag and zipped it up.  

“Come on. Take me to get some food…please.” 

He opened the door, allowing me to walk out ahead of him. We were quiet until we got to the parking lot. I opened the trunk, threw my bag in, then turned to Dieter, “You’re driving.” 

He arched a brow at me and smiled, “Yes ma’am.” 

I followed him over to his car and plopped down in the passenger seat as he threw his bag into the back. Once he got situated behind the wheel, he grabbed a pair of glasses and popped them on his face. I couldn’t help admiring how adorable he looked with his glasses and messy hair. He glanced at me, looking slightly worried, “What? Is my spray tan fucked up or something?” 

I chuckled, “No. Just admiring your glasses.” 

He smirked, turning his head forward and starting the car. As we were on our way, I called in a pickup order. Dieter gave me an odd look but didn’t question it. After disconnecting the call, I tried to lighten the mood by asking about Zee. That seemed to do the trick, keeping him talking until we got to the restaurant. We sat in the parking lot, waiting for the text that our food was ready. After about forty-five minutes of waiting, Dieter was beginning to get impatient as his stomach grumbled loudly. 

Just as he started his tirade of complaints, I snapped a quick picture of him making his annoyed face, snickering as I posted it to Instagram before he even realized what was happening. His phone chimed with an alert. He paused mid-sentence, narrowing his eyes in my direction. 

“What did you just post?” he asked sternly, before cracking a smile. 

I shrugged, “Might as well get used to it. If we have to post social media shit, I’m gonna be as obnoxious as possible with it.” 

He looked at his phone and snorted, “Fucking hell, Kat. OK…it’s on now. Just remember anything that I post going forward is your fault. You started this.”

I rolled my eyes at him, “Whatever you say, Bravo.”

My phone dinged with a text that our food was ready. I moved to get out, but Dieter locked the door on me. 

“I got it. You sit,” he said sternly. 

I scoffed, “Well…OK then.” 

He was back within minutes, shaking his head as he handed me the food through the window. Once he was back in the driver’s seat he gave me an exasperated look. 

“What’s wrong?” I asked. 

“Apparently the girl working the front is a Dieterina shipper. I got questioned out about why the food was in your name and why I was the one picking it up. Like that means something…” 

My head dropped back against the seat, “Great. Here we go with that stuff…they’ll look for anything.”

I felt my stomach do a little flip at the thought of it meaning something. It didn’t bother me as much as it once did. Especially now that Alec was out of the picture. However, I didn’t want Dieter to be associated with that new development in any way. He didn’t need a reputation as a home wrecker to add to his list.

Once we decided that we would eat in the car, I began filling him in on the details from my meeting with Stacia and Joe - not having told him everything yet. We got a head start on discussing our dance for the following week as I pulled up the song to listen to while we devoured our burritos. We sat in silence, listening to it in full, twice. I could feel the tension forming between us as the realization set in of how intimate this dance was about to be. All while we were off on our own together in New York. 

We sat almost a little stunned as we considered our options for the Rumba. I finally suggested we think on it and discuss it more once we made it through the Jive. It felt like an added pressure to worry about it right now. At least it did for me now that I was thinking of everything else that was coming at us with it. 

After we finished eating, he dropped me off at my car so I could head home for the evening. Once home, I rushed to finish up the last of my packing since we would be leaving for the airport directly from the studio after the show was over. I wasn’t even sure of most of our travel details. I just knew a car would be picking me up in the morning. As bad as it sounded, I was relying on Dieter to know what was going on since his people were working with both studios to figure everything out. It was a little nerve wrecking, but I brushed it off as I crawled into bed and passed out from the exhaustion the last few days had brought. 

I was in a rush the following morning, double checking that I had everything and also trying to get ready before my ride was due to arrive at 7AM. I was beginning to feel overwhelmed with everything to come as I stood at the kitchen counter, reading through an email from Stacia and Joe with my schedule of promo appearances for the week when a text came through from Dieter. I checked the time. It was 6:55 AM. Confused as to why he was texting me so early, I switched to my messenger app. 

Dieter: Your ride is here. Do you need any help?

A crease formed between my brows, “What the fu…” 

I walked over to look out through the curtains. Sure enough, I could see Dieter through the open back window of a SUV that was sitting in my driveway. My phone dinged again. 

Dieter: Also, your plants look sad. I’m disappointed in you. Have I taught you nothing? 😂 (laughing to tears emoji)

I rolled my eyes.

ME: First of all, shut up about my plants. I do not have a green thumb and I have accepted that. I’ll be out in a minute. 

I hurried around, double checking that everything was turned off and locked up before grabbing my bags and heading out the front door. The driver got out of the car, rushing to help me. He took my bags as Dieter pushed his door open and slid to the opposite side of the car so I could get in without having to walk around.

I got in and sat down with a huff, “I wasn’t aware that I would be riding with you this morning.”

He shrugged and handed me a coffee, “Ehh, it’s on the way.” 

I gave him a confused look, “No it’s not.” 

He chuckled nervously, “It is if I’m getting coffee…and take the long way.” 

I rolled my eyes and shook my head. He was so extra sometimes. 

He elbowed me gently, “Hey…about your plants…can I send someone over to take care of that for you? I don’t like sad plants.” 

I snorted, “You’re joking…”

His eyes widened, like he had been caught doing something he shouldn’t, “Yeees. Totally joking.” 

I gasped, “You’re not joking!” 

He shook his head, “No. I’m kind of serious…actually.” 

My head shook from side to side, “Dieter…no. Absolutely not.” 

He pouted like a petulant child in that way he does. 

I poked him in the arm, “Stop that right now. I’ll take care of them when I get back.”

“When you get back!?!?! They’ll be dead by then!” he said dramatically. 

I couldn’t help laughing at him, it was honestly cute that he cared that much.

“I’ll have my assistant stop by to water them. He’s on plant duty anyway.” 

I scoffed, “Dieter…no.” 

“Shhhh. It’s happening. I’m not discussing it any further.” He waved his hand dismissively in my direction as he turned his attention to tapping at his phone.

My mouth dropped open in shock over his sassy attitude, “Did you just…” 

“Yes. Now be quiet, I need to concentrate to type up these instructions.” 

He gave me the side-eye with a small smile tugging at his lips. I shoved his leg with mine as he burst out laughing. So, this is how this week is gonna go. 

After arriving at Television City Studios, the driver helped unload our bags so we could store them in our dressing rooms. We got several odd looks as we wheeled our luggage through the lobby and down the dressing room hallway. The sight was sure to cause some gossip since no one knew about our plans for the upcoming week. 

Once we dropped off our luggage, Dieter and I headed to the ballroom to get the first few run throughs with the band and camera blocking out of the way. I tried not to pay attention to the eyes on us because I knew Alec and Lana were among them, but by the time we finished, I could feel my nerves setting in. I would have to face Alec soon enough for the group performance dress rehearsal. 

I spent a fair amount of my time in the hair and makeup chair trying to focus and not let that asshole get to me, determined not to let him mess me up today. I knew Dieter could sense my tension from the way he kept looking at me with concern, but he never said anything. Instead, he tried to keep me distracted by talking about anything and everything as we sat there getting lathered in hair spray, gel, and makeup. Occasionally, he would reach over and give my arm or hand a reassuring squeeze when he was able. 

Then, Lana and Alec walked in. They sat on the opposite side from us, thankfully, but we could easily still catch glimpses of each other in the mirrors. It wasn’t lost on me that Alec was keeping an eye on us when he was able. His gaze making me feel more tense by the minute, causing my chest to tighten and my breathing to pick up. 

I turned my chair facing away from the mirror, toward Dieter instead. Dieter’s wide-eyed reflection told me that he could see the panic setting in. Without warning, he turned his chair to face toward me, which resulted in a minor scolding from the girl working on his hair. He didn’t say anything, but I could see how concerned he was from the way his eyes were focused on me. 

I sat staring at the rise and fall of his chest, attempting to match his breathing. After a short time passed, I felt something pressing against my lower leg, just above the ankle. I glanced down and found Dieter’s outstretched leg against mine, grounding me to the here and now. It was unexpected and exactly what I needed. When I finally looked up and met his gaze, I realized my eyes were pooling with tears. He saw it too. 

He looked around, checking to see if anyone else had noticed. He cleared his throat, “Hey, I’ve been meaning to ask…do you mind if I list you as Zee’s secondary emergency contact on her paperwork? You’re the only other person she likes so far. You know, just in case I’m outta town or something?” 

His question took me by surprise, which I’m pretty sure was his intent. It also made me feel emotional in a different way. I knew he was putting a lot of trust in me for something like that. I sniffled. 

“Really? Does that make me like her godmother or something?” 

He shrugged, “Is that a thing for cats? I mean, I guess so…” 

The ladies working on our hair let out a chorus of “awwws” over his question. I gave him a genuine smile, thankful that he was here with me. He always knew what I needed. 

“Of course, anything for Zee.” I finally answered.

He returned my smile with one of his own. He almost looked…relieved? I wasn’t sure if it was from my answer or the fact that the distraction had worked. 

Another girl stepped in to start working on my makeup at that point, so Dieter had to move his leg away from mine. I found myself longing for his warmth the second it was gone. We did, however, stay facing each other. 

We soon found ourselves talking and joking with the ladies who were getting us ready, and I had completely forgotten about Alec and Lana on the other side of the room. Dieter kept the laughs going by giving suggestions on my hair and makeup. Most of it was said with the intention of being funny, but they did take him up on the suggestion to add a red rose accessory to the side of my hair that was pinned back. He went on to say that it would make my red lips and nails pop a little more, seemingly thrilled that they actually agreed with him. 

Time flew by after that, and we were finished in hair and makeup before we knew it. Dieter had refused to leave his seat until I was finished, and surprisingly they didn’t make a big deal out of it. I think they enjoyed his company just as much as I did. When we finally got up to leave, he followed closely behind me, somewhat blocking my view of Alec and Lana. I had a feeling his actions were intentional but couldn’t know for certain. 

Once we got into the hallway, I felt his fingers slide around my left hand, his thumb gently gliding back and forth over the engagement ring that I still wore on my finger. I noticed his brow furrow slightly before asking if I was ok. I nodded. He smiled before leaning in next to my ear and speaking in a low voice. 

“Just for the record, I think you look amazing in red.” 

I could feel the heat creeping up into my cheeks and a tingle between my thighs from his words. I gave him a shy smile just as we reached my dressing room door. My grip tightened on his hand, before pulling him into a hug. A real hug. Not one of those half-assed side hugs we did more often than not. I didn’t hesitate to bury my face in his neck, inhaling his scent as deeply as I could. 

“Thank you for keeping me together back there.” 

I felt his arms tighten around me, “You don't have to thank me for that. You know I’d do anything for you.” 

I pulled away and cupped his cheeks with both hands, letting my eyes roam over his face before I gave him a sad smile, “I know you would. Thank you just the same though.”

I felt his fingers twitch on my hips, suddenly making me aware of how this might appear to onlookers. I dropped my hands and stepped away, “I guess we better get changed for dress rehearsal.” 

He nodded, “Yeah, I’ll meet you back here so we can go together, OK?” 

I nodded. He seemed to sense that I didn’t want to be left wandering the halls alone. He could already read me better than Alec ever could. 

Minutes later, we had changed and were heading back to the ballroom. Quickly getting through our dress rehearsal with a few minor errors on my part. Having Alec lurking around was really starting to become a distraction. Knowing that I would soon have to dance with him was making me extremely anxious and I was having a hard time moving past it. I hoped once that was out of the way, I would be able to focus on our routine the way I needed to. 

After our dress rehearsal, Dieter walked me back to my dressing room so I could change into the group performance costume while he waited just outside the door. When I was ready, he escorted me back to the ballroom. He tried to keep the conversation light through it all. Even managing to make me laugh a few times. I had to appreciate his efforts, I’m not sure I would have made it through the day without him. 

Before I knew it, the professional dance cast was gathering on the dance floor to run through the opening performance. Dieter stayed nearby, casually sprawled out in a chair, watching. It did give me some comfort knowing he was there. 

As we were standing around the center of the floor, awaiting instructions from Emily, Alec approached me. I refused to look at him directly. For once he seemed nervous and unsure of himself as he worked up the courage to speak to me. 

“Kat, can we talk later? Please?” 

My eyes briefly cut toward him, “I have nothing to say to you.” 

He sighed, “Please. Just let me explain.” 

I could feel the rage bubbling inside of me. What could he possibly have to say that would explain his behavior? I turned to face him, my expression not hiding the anger I was feeling. 

“I don’t even want to be in your presence right now. You should consider yourself lucky that I’m not making a big deal out of having to dance with you today. So, just keep your damn mouth shut and let’s get our fucking job done.” 

His eyes widened, shocked that I was standing up to him in such a way. I could sense several cast members watching us, clearly having overheard me. It seemed to make Alec uncomfortable, probably because he couldn’t react how he normally would to my defiance. His only response was to nod and stand there quietly. He stayed that way until we started the routine. Surprisingly, he did drop the issue. The only communication between us was what the performance required. We managed to make it through without any issues. 

I walked off the dance floor without saying another word to him, feeling more relaxed and realizing that he no longer had any hold over me. This thing with him was finally over and I could let him go. He had to know there was no coming back from it and he couldn’t blame me for it either.

Dieter stood and moved to meet me at the edge of the dance floor with a questioning look on his face. I gave him a genuine smile now, looping my arm through his as I pulled him toward the exit, “Come on, let’s get our final fittings done.” 

The rest of the morning went by in a blur as we rushed to finish up with our final fittings and stop in for touch ups on hair and makeup. Before we knew it, we were in the staging area, waiting for the live show to begin. I managed to make it through the opening performance with Alec without any issue. He didn’t try to speak to me at all outside of what was necessary. It seemed he had finally listened to me for once. Afterwards, I rushed to change for my performance with Dieter. I was eager to be back with him, finding that his presence was like a comforting balm to my still raw emotions that threatened to break free at any moment. I was more than happy to be done with Alec, but there was still some residual hurt there too. There always would be since he had taken up such a large part of my life. However, Dieter seemed to make it a lot more bearable.

When I finally made my way back to Dieter, he gave me a brilliant smile before leaning in to tell me that I stole the show once again. I rolled my eyes at the compliment but was flattered by it just the same. We took a minute to take some quick pictures in costume to post on social media to make the bosses happy - both of us adding playful comments about each other just to make it more entertaining.

He stood there for a moment, staring at his phone before glancing in my direction.

“You know, those shorts should be illegal. I can’t believe they’re letting you dance in those.” 

I scoffed, “Excuse me? I’m pretty sure I’ve worn less clothing to dance in than this before.” 

He chuckled, still looking at his phone, “That may be true, but those little skirts don’t hug your ass like that.” 

My eyebrows disappeared into my hairline as I stared at him. His eyes widened, like he just realized he said that out loud. He slowly raised his head to meet my gaze and gave me a sheepish smile, his cheeks turning a little red. 

He shrugged, “I’m sorry. I’m a man. I’m gonna notice a nice ass. Especially when it’s shaking in front of me on the daily. Sue me.” 

I snorted at his openness. He had no shame. If only he knew all the parts of his body that caught my attention on the daily…

To break the tension, I pulled out my phone to get our weekly hype song ready. I handed Dieter one of the earbuds, he gave me a questioning look as he listened before bursting out laughing. 

“The Brian Setzer Orchestra? Really? I swear I never know what you're gonna pick…I love it.” 

I laughed, “Keeping with the theme of the week. Gotta get you in the Jive mindset.” 

We started moving to the beat of the music, getting into the right mindset for the high energy dance we were about to perform. Out of nowhere, a camera was suddenly being shoved in our faces reminding me about the behind the scenes filming they were starting this week. It sort of took away from the moment, but we smiled and waved. Luckily, they didn’t stick with us for long. Dieter and I both shared a look of annoyance as they moved to another area to film. I made a mental note to find us a place to hide for the following week. 

Minutes later, we made our way out onto the dance floor and took our places. The spotlight dropped down on Dieter, who was standing in the middle of the stage. He opened with some of his signature Elvis Presley hip wiggles to the audience’s delight. He soon joined me on the main floor where we shifted into our high energy swing style dance. Neither of us missed a beat as we made our way through the routine - rock stepping, kicking, and twirling with smiles. Dieter added to the theatrics by giving several lip curls as he continued to gyrate around the floor. We finally ended with a flourish, settling into our ending pose as the lights dimmed to darkness around us. 

The screaming and applause from the crowd was almost deafening as we made our way over to the interview area and awaited our scores. Dieter was his usual charming self as he answered questions about his struggles for the week. He shifted to praising me for my patience and ability to get him to where he needed to be for the competition, hugging me tightly into his side as he spoke. His occasional glances in my direction were causing all sorts of reactions from my body. Clearly the high energy atmosphere was only intensifying things for me because the only thing I could think about doing was getting him back to his dressing room to straddle his thick thighs and have my way with him.  

I was drawn from my thoughts just as the judges began to read off our scores, giving us three 9’s and one 10. We were inching closer and closer to a perfect score every week and I absolutely could not believe it. Especially since the judges tended to get more critical as the weeks went on. Dieter was beyond excited, lifting me off the floor with a spin as we briefly celebrated the results.   

We spent the rest of the show watching from the staging area. Again, our only real competition this week seemed to be Alec and Lana, which grated on my nerves. Everything in me was hoping they would fuck up and get voted off the show, so I didn’t have to look at them anymore. It didn’t look like that was happening anytime soon though. 

Dieter didn’t leave my side until we returned to our dressing rooms to change out of our costumes. When I opened the door to set the dry cleaning bag outside for pickup, Alec was there with his hand posed to knock on the door. 

The anger that I felt in that instant was beyond anything I could describe. I couldn’t believe he had the audacity to try and “explain” this situation to me after what I saw. I dropped the dry cleaning bag beside the door then crossed my arms over my chest, refusing to allow him to enter my dressing room. I didn’t want to be alone with him out of view of other people. 

“I believe I told you that I didn’t wanna speak to you.” 

He tried to crowd me so that I would move backward into the room, but I didn’t budge. 

I gave him a pointed look, “Whatever it is you have to say, you can say right here.” 

He scoffed, “We have no privacy here.”

I shrugged, “Well… I didn’t wanna hear what you had to say anyway.”

I moved to close the door, but he stopped it with his hand. 

I huffed, giving him a frustrated look. 

“Kat, come on. You can’t blame this all on me. You’ve been checked out for months. You’ve wanted nothing to do with me. What was I supposed to do?”

“I dunno, maybe try to earn my trust back? I’m sorry but worrying about who you’ve been fucking and if I’m gonna get an STD is kind of a mood killer in the bedroom.”

His eyes widened, anger flashing there briefly before he remembered where he was. 

I laughed sarcastically, “Did you really think this little talk was gonna work after what I walked in on? This wasn’t texting other people or chatting online, Alec. There is no talking your way out of it. You fucked up and it’s all on you. I told you this was your last chance, and it literally took you…what, all of three days to fuck up again? You didn’t even try. So, fuck your excuses. I’m done.” 

I moved to pull the ring off my finger. He looked like he was about to have a meltdown as I held it out to him. Something between hurt, defeat, and anger was swirling behind his eyes as he took it from me. I don’t think it ever occurred to him that this could be an outcome for his actions. 

His jaw ticked to the side, it seemed anger was winning. “This is because of Bravo, isn’t it?”

I shook my head, “Dieter doesn’t have a damn thing to do with this, so don’t even go there. You did this when you decided to fuck around with other people. YOU. No one else.” 

I sighed, realizing there were now a couple of people hanging around to be nosey. Fuck this. I don’t owe him a conversation. “Give me my house key and leave please.”

Alec shook his head, “I don’t have it on me.” He was such a fucking liar. His keys were half hanging out of his pants pocket. I rolled my eyes, reaching to grab them before he realized what was going on. I took my key off the ring then tossed the rest back at him before shutting the door in his face and locking it. 

I sank down in one of the plush chairs, letting relief wash over me now that that part was over with. I hoped he would let it go, but deep down, I knew he wouldn’t. I couldn’t have been happier that this was my last season on the show for this reason alone. It was probably also a good thing that I was going out of town for the week. At least it would give him some time to cool down. 

My phone chimed with a text from Dieter asking me to let him in. I drug myself up out of the chair to turn the lock and open the door. Dieter didn’t make a move to come in, instead he reached for my chin, tilting my head upward to meet his gaze before settling his hand on my shoulder.

“Are you OK? I overheard someone say you and Alec were arguing.” 

My eyes scanned the open dressing room doors behind him. It seemed like there were more people milling around than normal. Without a word, I pulled Dieter inside and shut the door behind us. I didn’t care what anyone thought about it. 

When Dieter turned to face me, I was fighting back tears. He pulled me against his chest into a tight hug. He hadn’t hesitated to come to me when he thought I might need him. I really didn’t deserve him. We stood there in silence for what seemed like an eternity before he finally spoke. 

“Can you please tell me if you’re OK? He didn’t do anything to you did he?”

I shook my head against his firm chest, “No…not physically anyway.” 

I could feel his body relax against mine as he hugged me just a little tighter, causing me to melt into his arms. He really did give the best hugs, completely enveloping me with his scent and warmth. Honestly, I couldn’t remember the last time I had felt safer or more content than in that moment. I never wanted to let him go. 

Our moment was broken by his cell chiming in his hand. He sighed, pulling away to look at it. He left his other hand resting at the nape of my neck.

“Our ride to the airport is here. You ready to go?” he asked. His fingers lightly threaded through my hair as he spoke. 

I nodded, moving away from him to collect my bags. He helped me get them into the hallway, then I followed him down to his dressing room so he could grab his. There were more than a few curious eyes on us as he emerged with his own suitcases. I was sure that our strange departure together would only add to the gossip in the days to come. 

We were silent during the ride to the airport, but that didn’t stop him from reaching between us for my left hand, settling his on top of it, squeezing in what was meant to be a comforting gesture. His thumb made a few passes across my knuckles before pausing. In my periphery, I could see his head turn toward me slightly as he glanced downward. A crease formed between his brows before he met my gaze. I could see his jaw tighten as his eyes danced around my face before he eventually turned to stare out the window. He rubbed his chin for a moment, then I felt his fingers move to entwin through the tops of mine. We stayed like that until we got to the airport. 

Of course there were paparazzi at the airport, shouting questions at us about the show and asking why we were traveling together. Dieter was quick to mention that we were traveling for work. That was really the only question either of us answered. I was in no mood for it and Dieter didn’t seem like he was either. 

By the time we got on the plane, we were dragging. It had been such a long day already and we still had to make it through the five hour flight and get to the hotel. We knew we were going to be running on fumes the next day after considering the three hour time loss in our schedule. So, we did try to sleep on the plane. After falling asleep on Dieter’s shoulder, I did manage to rest better than expected, but it wasn’t enough.

It was nearing 6 AM by the time we finally made it to our Soho hotel. Dieter and I stood leaning against the check-in desk waiting as they looked up our room reservations. We were pretty much dead on our feet by this point and hoping to get at least a few good hours of sleep in before we had to head over to Studio 8H for Dieter to start digging into his SNL duties. The lady behind the desk finally turned her attention back to us, sliding our room keys over along with some paperwork for Dieter to sign. 

The desk clerk smiled, before going into her spiel about the hotel amenities. Dieter waved her off, “I’m sorry, we’ve just gotten off a five hour flight. We really just wanna sleep right now.”

Her smile widened, “Totally understandable Mr. Bravo. So, you’ll be staying in the South Loft on the 16th floor. The elevators are just over there.” She paused, motioning with her hand. “Do you need help with your bags?” She asked. 

This woman’s full attention was on Dieter. Not that I blamed her, but damn. I was standing here too. I tapped on the countertop, “I’m sorry, but where will my room be?” I asked impatiently. 

Her smile faltered somewhat as she looked between us, “Well, you’re both in the South Loft.” I felt the color drain from my face before she even finished the sentence. I’m so fucked.

Next: Week 5 (Part 1)

A/N: Happy Friday my lovelies! I hope you enjoyed the latest installment. I'm sure you did given that Alec is now officially out of the picture. Please do share your feelings on his latest (major) fuck up. How do you feel about how Kat is handling things? She's kind of all over the place with it. We didn't get any of Dieter's POV in this chapter (because it was so fucking long... sorry), but we got a pretty big hint at the end when he realized things were about to change. What do you think was going through his head on that drive to the airport? What about his reaction? Also, now that he knows Alec is out of the picture, fully expect the menace to come out.

Stacia and Joe are of course up to their tricks. How much do you think they know about what's going on with their cast?

Speaking of the cast...WTF is up with Lana? Do you all hate her yet? How do you think she feels about Kat and what Alec did to her?

The next chapter(s) will be focused on Dieter and Kat in NYC preparing for the Rumba and SNL. Let's just say Kat wasn't wrong about the trip changing things between them. 😏

Below is your Jive video for this chapter. It was some nice inspo for Dieter's Elvis dance moves. 🤭

CP Tags: @titlee78 @legendary-pink-dot  @survivingandenduring @wannab-urs  @harriedandharassed

@hisandsnakes  @misstokyo7love @readingiskeepingmegoing  @runningmom94  @sin-djarin

@cakipy-blog  @missladym1981  @guelyury  @weho2kcmo  @alokaerza  

@girlofchaos  @trulybetty  @rhoorl  @bitchwitch1981  @madnessofadaydreamer

@darkheartgatita  @jazzloveslatte  @timpletance  @musings-of-a-rose  @samiamproductions

@myloveistoolittle  @for-a-longlongtime   @copperhalfcent  @auteurdelabre @drewharrisonwriter

@burntheedges  @stevie75  @bunniboo0015  @quicax3  @jackie923

@sherala007  @pastelnap  @angelofsmalldeath-codeine  @jessthebaker  @rebel-held

@gwendibleywrites  @senorabond  @annalovesflorida  @sandaltoesocks  @katw474

@pedrostories @dieterbravobrainrotclub

[gallierhouse]

I really do think Armand is ultimately someone who’s motivated by love and compassion in equal measure; he just expresses it in all the wrong ways. Maybe it’s not something anyone else would identify as love or compassion but I don’t think he’s ever unkind, really, except to Lestat. He’s always operating from this place of trying to be the bigger person and trying to control himself and trying to let things go and forgive and be kind and be good and he’s put in positions that make it very difficult to keep up the restraint. He’s holding his own chain. He’s trying to do the right thing, but his idea of the right thing is so entangled with his flawed logic and his utterly insane beliefs about the world (and duty, and suffering, and right and wrong). He’s trying to play nice and he’s trying to behave and it never really works out because he’s selfish and he’s monstrous and he’s cruel and he’s possessive and he needs to own things and he needs them to own him, too, and he likes the taste of power and he likes the taste of despair, and yet he’s still trying to not be bad. He’s not trying to be good. But there are certain lines even he won’t cross and there are certain people he doesn’t want to be, and while it’s obvious he takes pleasure in the suffering of others, it’s also so clear that he, in a lot of ways, is trying to be the person that he needs. Or maybe he thinks he needed a long time ago. As much as he likes to play the victim and act like he’s been wronged, I don’t really think that’s what he believes about himself. I think he probably thinks he’s… unmoored, a lost cause, someone whose fate was sealed a long, long, long time ago and now it’s all meaningless because what’s done is done and whatever good or innocence that he maybe once had, once upon a time, is long gone and now it’s only waiting for the end. Or maybe never the end. Doesn’t really matter which. There’s no meaning, only filling time. Armand’s very principled, deep down, which is why he’s got this one line he refuses to cross until he does (not making fledglings) and everything he does is in proportion to that. He’s evil, but he’ll only do things up to how evil he is now, and he won’t go a step further, and it’s fine for him to do all those evil things as long as he doesn’t cross that line because he’s already damned and it’s already done and he has to do these things anyway and if he doesn’t someone else will and if he does it maybe he can control it or make it better or at least give someone else somewhere to put all the pain. I don’t know. I think he’s compassionate. In a fucked up way, but it’s a cornerstone of who he is. He’s the person who puts down the dog when no one else wants to and he knows everyone else is going to hate him for it, but sometimes dogs have to die, and it’s his dog so it’s his choice, and it doesn’t really matter what anyone else wants, not even the dog.

[simplyholl]

Out of My System Pt 7

Summary: Loki doesn't understand Thor's attraction to Midgardians. Until he meets you.

Pairing: Avenger Loki x F. Reader

Warnings: Angst. Pregnancy.

W/C: 846

A/N: Sorry this is so short! I’ve been crazy busy with the Whore-O-Ween stuff.

Out of My System Masterlist

You were shaking with excitement. Odin had agreed to let you visit Asgard on Loki and Thor’s next trip. You didn’t know what you were most excited about, meeting his mother or seeing the place where he grew up.

There was also another reason you were excited. You were hiding a pretty big secret. You had found out earlier in the week that you’re pregnant. You weren’t exactly keeping the news from Loki, you just wanted to find the right time to tell him. You thought that the opportunity would present itself on your trip.

Frigga was everything you imagined and so much more. She welcomed you with open arms. You loved her already. As soon as she saw you, she gave you a knowing smile. A mother always knows. Loki left the two of you alone to talk, and she asked if he knew the second he walked out.

She was almost more excited than you. The next day, she gifted you with Asgardian baby gowns in Loki’s colors. You hid them in your bag so Loki wouldn’t find them. You walked around the palace after you ate looking for Loki.

You stumble upon Sif and another lady. “Have you seen Loki?” “He was seen in the garden with Rose earlier.” She smirked and you thanked her, making your way to the garden. “Poor dear, Loki brought her all the way from Midgard and he’s already seeing someone behind her back. He and Rose used to be an item centuries ago. You know what they say, old flames die hard.”

You couldn’t believe what she was saying. You were only a few steps away, surely they meant for you to hear it. But you knew Loki, and he wouldn’t cheat on you. You hurried outside, spotting Loki sitting on a bench with Rose. You could hear her obnoxious giggle as she climbed into his lap.

Shocked, you got on your hands and knees crawling to a nearby bush. You hid behind it so you could spy on them. There had to be a logical explanation for why she was in his lap. Maybe she got hurt and he was helping her.

“A Midgardian, Loki? I thought even you had standards. She’s not even that pretty. You could have your choice of any Asgardian woman. Why don’t we go back to my cottage? It will be just like old times. I’ll do that thing you like.” She purred.

You shake with anger. How dare she? You peak through the bush waiting for Loki’s response. This should be good. He wouldn’t let anyone say anything bad about you. Loki takes her loose curl between his fingers placing it behind her ear. “That’s quite a tempting offer-“

Rage consumes you. You stand, giving away your hiding spot. You stomp over to them, not caring how crazy you looked. If looks could kill, they would both be dead. “Darling, what are you -“ You don’t give Loki the chance to finish. “Get your ass up!” You shout at her. She looks from you to Loki. This must be how Bruce feels when he turns into the Hulk. Damn these pregnancy hormones. You grab Rose’s arm and sling her to the ground.

“Oh!” She shouts as her body lands hard with a thud. “Loki, please help me, she’s assaulted me!” She whines. Loki takes one step toward her, but stops when he sees how angry you are. “You’re lucky that’s all I did!” She gets up with a huff, running in the opposite direction.

“Darling, I can explain. It’s not what it looked like.” Your hand meets his cheek before you can think. He brings his hand to it, shocked. “What’s the matter with you?” He questions. “Me? What about you? I heard her trashing me and you didn’t defend me once! She propositioned you, Loki. An offer I heard you accept.” He places his hand on yours, and you jerk away from his touch.

“I was so foolish to think this could work, that I’d ever be enough for you. You didn’t even like Earth women, Loki. I don’t know why I thought I was any different.” You fight back tears, refusing to let him see you cry. “You better go after her.”

You sob the entire way back to Loki’s chamber. Hand on your non-existent baby bump, you think of all that could’ve been, all that he had ruined. “It’s just you and me from now on. I’m sorry your dad’s such an asshole. I’ve always had horrible taste in men. I just thought he was different.” You cried harder remembering that you slapped him. “I’m going to give birth in Asgardian jail because I assaulted Prince Jackass!” You wailed.

Loki gave you some time to calm down. He knew he couldn’t talk to you when you were so angry. He was about to refuse Rose’s advances and defend you when you popped out of the bushes like a mad woman.

“Mother, have you seen her? I’ve been looking everywhere.” Frigga frowned at him. “She went back to Midgard, Loki. Thor accompanied her per my request.” Loki runs a hand through his hair looking frustrated. “Why would you send Thor? Why wouldn’t you send for me?” He shouted. Frigga placed a dainty hand on her son’s shoulder. “You’ve done enough today. What were you thinking? You should have known what it would look like.”

When he reached his chambers, he noticed you left your bag. He missed you and he wasn’t sure if he could fix this. You were so angry with him, and you had every right to be. He decided to go through your bag, hoping to find something that smelled like you.

He picked out a hoodie, bringing it to his nose for comfort. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw his colors. He knew you didn’t have anything like that, so his curiosity got the best of him. He lifted the small items out of your bag. Realizing what they were, he was shocked.

He thought back, remembering how you had gotten sick smelling your favorite food. You were sick quite often lately, but you told him it was a stomach flu. Why hadn’t you told him? Perhaps you didn’t want a child with him. You hadn’t been dating for very long. A child would change your relationship. One thing was for certain, he had to get back to you.

Tags (cont. in comments)

@lokisgoodgirl @fictive-sl0th @lokidbadguy @ozymdias @cindylynn @cakesandtom @eleniblue @muddyorbsblr @marygoddessofmischief @mochie85 @goblingirlsarah @lokisninerealms @wheredafandomat @peaches1958 @freegardenbanananeck @chantsdemarins @lokidokieokie @anukulee @sheris532 @lokixryss @multifandom-worlds @javagirl328 @assemblingavenger @lilibet261 @lemonadygirl @joyofbebbanburg @bellajg21 @ladymischief11 @kats72 @evelyn-rathmore @innebulae @alexakeyloveloki @princess-ofthe-pages @xorpsbane @itssomeonereading @mrs-bucky-barnes-73 @navs-bhat @fire-in-her-veinz @crimson25 @darkserenity24 @mischief2sarawr @nikkig496-blog @buttercupcookies-blog