#the first part is an actual quote from my father and I

[bnha-more-like-bnh-gay]

Aizawa, to a dog who’s been watching him all day: what do you want??

Class A, collectively: happiness

Aizawa:

Mic: the school offers free therapy, and I’m going to make you all appointments

[thrumbolt]

Top 5 most annoying Tamlin scene misinterpretations

1. ''There is no such thing as a high lady'' I hate this one, because it is always taken as some sort of proof that Tamlin is a raging misogynist who doesn't want an equal woman by his side or some similar type of nonsense. I don't know where this is coming from. Tamlin never wanted to be a high lord. He would probably welcome for someone to take over most of the work so he could just keep running through the woods. He also has absolutely no issues with taking advice from women in power (Ianthe? Hello??). His first reaction to the high lady question is literally this:

“Is everyone just going to call me ‘Tamlin’s wife’? Do I get a … title?” He lifted his head long enough to look at me. “Do you want a title?”

And let's not forget that Feyre's first reply is ''No, I don’t know if I can handle them calling me High Lady”. To which he then answers that she doesn't have to worry about that, since ''there is no such thing as a high lady'' because the magic choses the title and it keeps chosing males. Also this whole scene happens while he eats her out. Not that it's relevant or anything, just saying...

2. ''Tamlin killed Rhys' family'' No. Tamlin's dad killed Rhys' family. I have no idea how Tamlin doing it is ever the takeaway from that whole story. Let's just quote the actual scene:

“Tamlin’s father, brothers, and Tamlin himself set out into the Illyrian wilderness, having heard from Tamlin—from me—where my mother and sister would be, that I had plans to see them. I was supposed to be there. I wasn’t. And they slaughtered my mother and sister anyway.”

Yeah okay, Tamlin gave the information (supposedly) and was there (supposedly) sure, but it's highly unlikely that he was so willingly. Let's not forget that it's established that Tamlin was afraid of his father, that Tamlin's father is worse than Beron (who, I might remind you, tortures his sons) and that Tamlin was friends with Rhys at the time - which neither family approved of. Even Rhys doesn't actually believe Tamlin did anything besides being spineless:

''I didn’t care that Tamlin had been there, had allowed them to kill my mother and sister, that he’d come to kill me because he didn’t want to risk standing against them.''

In the end we don't know the details. Tamlin could've been tortured and tied up or whatever. Making him watch could've been a cruel form of punishment for being friends with Rhys. We don't really know until SJM graces us with Tamlin's side of the story.

3. ''It's really Tamlin's own fault that the spring court fell'' Alternatively also phrased as: 'Feyre just opened everyone's eyes to Tamlin's incompetence' and....honestly? This low key makes me question the reading comprehension of people.

Yes, Tamlin made a deal with Hybern, which was extremely risky, but the war was coming regardless (as we learn from Rhys in the first half of ACOMAF) and the spring court would be the main target because of its location next to the wall. Inviting Hybern into his lands in a trade is actually a pretty smart way to avoid a lot of death on Tamlin's part - plus he needed help to rescue Feyre and get her out of the deal she had with Rhysand (people forget that Tamlin didn't know Feyre didn't actually need rescuing from the guy that was abusing her in front of him in ACOTAR).

So yeah anyway, Feyre did several things to make the spring court fall: 1. She manipulated the solstice ceremony to make herself seem cauldron-blessed in the eyes of the people, 2. She made a sentry accuse Ianthe (who WAS doing sneaky shit) which essentially did nothing except putting Tamlin on the spot in front of Hybern, so he was kind of forced to throw the sentry under the bus. Good job Feyre, you got a poor sod whipped! But it also built resentment within the soldiers, which was her plan all along and 3. before leaving, she did this (let's just quote the whole thing):

''I had a people who had lost faith in their High Priestess. I had sentries who were beginning to rebel against their High Lord. And as a result of those things, I had Hybern royals doubting the strength of their allies here. I’d primed this court to fall. Not from outside forces—but its own internal warring. And I had to be clear of it before it happened. Before the last sliver of my plan fell into place. The party would return without me. And to maintain that illusion of strength, Tamlin and Ianthe would lie about it—where I’d gone. And perhaps a day or two after that, one of these sentries would reveal the news, a carefully sprung trap that I’d coiled into his mind like one of my snares. I’d fled for my life—after being nearly killed by the Hybern prince and princess. I’d planted images in his head of my brutalized body, the markings consistent with what Dagdan and Brannagh had already revealed to be their style. He’d describe them in detail—describe how he helped me get away before it was too late. How I ran for my life when Tamlin and Ianthe refused to intervene, to risk their alliance with Hybern. And when the sentry revealed the truth, no longer able to stomach keeping quiet when he saw how my sorry fate was concealed by Tamlin and Ianthe, just as Tamlin had sided with Ianthe the day he’d flogged that sentry …When he described what Hybern had done to me, their Cursebreaker, their newly anointed Cauldron-blessed, before I’d fled for my life … There would be no further alliance. For there would be no sentry or denizen of this court who would stand with Tamlin or Ianthe after this. After me.''

So, the sentries left Tamlin because of a lie. A fake story. Without sentries, Hybern decided to take over rather than just be guests and had a prime spot to attack the summer court in turn. Which is also why Tarquin is extremely pissed at Feyre - not Tamlin. So no, Tamlin wasn't a bad high lord. His only real mistake was ever trusting Feyre.

Sure, some argue that Feyre thought Tamlin genuinely sided with Hybern and might be a threat to the rest of Prythian, so taking him down would make sense for her even outside of petty revenge. But there's just one problem with that: Feyre is a mind reader. She could have just.....checked. lol

4. ''Tamlin didn't do anything Under the Mountain'' This one really gets my goat because it's not really true? Things Tamlin did to help Feyre: 1. He sent her away to the human realm. (People forget this, but he basically doomed his court to protect her ass - it's not his fault she came back!) 2. He made Lucien check up on her. (Yes Lucien was Feyre's friend but he still acted under Tamlin's orders!) 3. He ignored Feyre as to not rile Amarantha up even more (Come on, have you seen Amarantha? It totally makes sense) 4. He tries to get to Feyre, begging Amarantha to stop even as he is tied up, bleeding out from a stab wound to his chest that he can't heal because he has no powers - like what do you want him to do??? 4. He literally kills Amarantha the second he is able to

Also personal conspiracy detour: That music that Rhysand supposedly sent to Feyre was SO originally supposed to be Tamlin, you can't convince me otherwise. I will never not believe that this wasn't just a lazily done quick change when SJM rewrote book 1 and 2 to account for the boyfriend switcheroo. Attributing the music to Rhys makes absolutely zero sense. He's not a musical boy at all, come on! Music themes never come up with him again either! Meanwhile Tamlin played for Feyre before, is generally a musical guy COME ON! /conspiracy detour over

5. ''It's Tamlin's fault that Nesta and Elaine got turned to fae'' No. No it's not. He knew nothing about this. Ianthe did this on her own accord because Feyre told her where her sister's lived. Tamlin actually attacks (!) the King of Hybern over it (to no avail, but still).

Some people blame Tamlin for keeping Ianthe around afterwards, despite of what she did. Those people I want to refer to point number 3 in this list. Ianthe was working with Hybern. Tamlin tried to be buddies with Hybern for reasons. No, he can't just throw out Ianthe.

[shmaptainwrites]

𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝐄𝐘𝐄𝐒 [𝐉𝐀𝐌𝐄𝐒 𝐖𝐈𝐋𝐒𝐎𝐍]

PAIRINGS — James Wilson x fem!Reader

SUMMARY — James has a huge crush on his labmate, the only question is how long will it take him to ask her out? (Answer: it's longer than you think)

WARNINGS — cancer mentions, patient death from cancer, drugs, alcohol (don't be mistaken this fic is tooth-rotting fluff)

NOTE — Okay this fic has come up from my compulsory need to elaborate on anything Canadian so if you ever wanted to see James at McGill, this fic is most definitely for you! Also I guess it's indirectly mentioned that reader was raised in Quebec, but obviously doesn't have to be "Quebecois" for this to work

Pronounciation — Jian = Chyehn

James chewed on the inside of his cheek as he walked up to the Stewart Biological Sciences Building on McGill campus. For some reason, it was so much more intimidating now that he was actually a student. During the tour he had his mother’s reassuring hand on his back, his father’s words of comfort that he would most definitely be accepted when he applied. 

Now that he had made it, he had to prove he belonged, but it could have been worse. His friends at Harvard and the University of Toronto had told him so. He was getting the best of both worlds, a prestigious school and, hopefully, not as much pressure as the rest of them. 

Without loitering any longer, he made his way inside and looked around to find the right lecture hall. It couldn’t possibly be that hard, could it?

After his first semester James had realized he’d made a few mistakes. One was living in a French speaking part of town without knowing a lick of the language, but that one was the easiest to deal with. The others were more in the realm of the amount of sleep he was getting and underestimating how much content the professors could shove down their throats in 14 weeks. 

He was more than happy to return to New Jersey for the holiday break to rest and recuperate before going back to the winter wonderland hell that was Montreal, but this time he was confident he would be more prepared. 

And for the most part, he was. He got enough sleep, partied responsibly (except Fridays, he partied hard then), always submitted his work on time and maintained his good GPA, making up for his poor fall semester. What he didn’t expect, however, was a distraction. 

When you walked into the room James watched you curiously, he thought maybe he’d seen you somewhere before, but he couldn’t quite place it. Besides, you were much more interesting than watching his sample boil for another five minutes. 

You came and took a seat next to him, taking out your safety goggles and lab notebook from your bag before shoving it under the table. 

“You’re sample’s boiling over,” you said, but James didn’t register you were talking to him at first, still looking at you in a slightly dazed manner before you physically pointed to the beaker, making his eyes go wide as he frantically turned down the heat and removed it. 

“It’s a wonder you passed the lab safely quiz,” you teased and James blushed. 

“Good thing I don’t want to be a chemist.” 

“Oh, and what do you want to be then?” you asked, preparing your own sample for boiling. 

“A doctor,” he shared with a little more confidence. 

“Any specialty in mind or just a doctor,” you said, doing air quotes over the word. 

“I’ve been shadowing some of the researchers in the Life Sciences Research Complex and I think oncology might be a good fit for me.” 

“Yeah, as long as you don’t have to boil cancer cells you should be fine,” you assured him. 

“What about you?” he rolled on the balls of his feet as he continued his experiment. “Or are you all talk?” 

“Pfft, you think I’d be here if I was all talk?” you asked. “No, I want to be a medical researcher.” 

“Maybe you should do some shadowing in the LSRC then.” 

“No thanks, I think I’ll stick to my job there.” 

“Your job?” James looked at your wish surprise. “Aren’t you like 18?” 

“Almost,” you smiled. 

“How did you manage to get a job there? They barely let undergraduates in the labs, let alone be responsible for anything.” 

“It’s nothing fancy,” you assured him. “I just do cataloguing for now, but it's a good experience.” 

“Still,” he raised his brows, “you must be like a prodigy or something.” 

“Again, no,” you shook your head. “Just someone who goes after what she wants.” 

There was a comfortable pause where you both took down your distillation set ups and began working on the filtration portion of the experiment. 

“So what’s your name, anyways?” you asked, looking over at him. “Hey, look, clamp it this way,” you demonstrated and he followed your lead, seeing how much more stable the glassware was afterwards. 

“Thanks,” he smiled. “I’m James.” 

You told him your name and continued your work again in silence.

Chemistry labs quickly became the favourite part of James’ week. 

Ever since that lab, James began to see you in all his classes. On more than a few occasions, he’d had to steal notes from his friends on account of forgetting to pay attention. It became an easy thing to tease him about, so his friends began calling him heart-eyes, because who was he kidding, he had a crush. 

“Get your head out of your ass, heart-eyes, I am not giving you my notes again,” his friend, Carlo, shoved his arm and whispered harshly as he could see him getting distracted. 

“Sorry,” James shook his head and began scribbling down what he had missed, his eyes darting back and forth from the board and back to you. 

“Why don’t you just ask her out?” Pierre asked him after class. “Don’t you talk all the time in the lab?” 

“More like I stare at her and she says stuff to make it not awkward,” he cringed at his own actions. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me. Every time I’m with her I can’t string together a sentence, and– Jesus Christ you should have seen my face last week! Full on red, like I can’t even be subtle about it!” 

“Yikes,” Jian grimaced. 

“It’s bad, I know,” James assured. 

“And this is why we call you heart-eyes,” Carlo patted James on the back. 

“Yeah, say it a little louder, maybe she’ll hear you,” James said sarcastically. 

“Who’ll hear you?” the group of boys heard a voice behind them and all their eyes went wide as they spun around and saw you. 

“No one!” Jian was quick to answer in the least nonchalant way possible, making the rest of the group, especially James, stare daggers at him. 

“It’s not no one,” Carlo attempted to save face. “Just… this girl back in uh New Jersey that James’ got the hots for,” he gained confidence with every word of the sentence before adorning a smug smile on his face and patting James yet again on the back. 

“You’re afraid a girl in New Jersey will hear you?” you looked curiously at James but he just stared blankly at you. “So you call him heart-eyes?” you instead turned your attention to his friends and they nodded. “That’s cute, maybe I’ll call you that too.” 

“Sure,” was all a red faced James could get out before you excused yourself to head over to work. 

Pierre was trying very hard to keep a straight face while you walked away and James slapped both Carlo and Jian upside the head. 

“What the hell was that! Could you not have been more obvious, Jian? And Carlo, a girl back in New Jersey? Now she thinks I’m pining for someone else!” 

“On the plus side, maybe she’ll think all your blushing around her is a circulation issue,” Pierre shrugged. 

“You guys are the worst,” James shook his head and shoved his hands in his pockets, continuing to walk along the path to one of the libraries. 

“No, we just saved your ass,” Carlo caught up with him. “However terribly, but if we didn’t say anything you would have stared at her with your mouth open like a trout.” 

“Carlo does have a point,” Jian agreed, “At least we bought you a little time to get your act together.” 

James sighed, “You guys have too much faith in me.”

“You said that when I started to teach you French and you’ve come a long way with that,” Pierre said. 

“Yeah, sure I went from saying nothing to being able to say Je m'appelle James et je ne parle pas français.” 

“And what a handy sentence that is when you don’t speak French!” Pierre grinned and James couldn’t help but chuckle and shake his head. 

“Okay, I’ll try and get my act together and ask her out…and learn more French.” 

“That’s the spirit!” Carlo patted his back. “Now let’s go get a drink and relax.” 

“Maybe after we study for our physics midterm?” James nudged his friend and Jian nodded his head in agreement. 

“Fine, I guess if we have to,” Carlo sighed. 

“Not everyone is naturally good at kinematics, Carlo. Take pity on us mere mortals who have to study,” Pierre responded, eliciting a chuckle from his buddies. 

James was quiet as he thought to himself. If he could get a B on this physics test, maybe there was hope for him getting his act together after all.

—

Summer break rolled around faster than James had expected. While Jian went back to Richmond, Pierre over to Quebec City, and Carlo to Chicago, James was left alone in Montreal, working to help pay his tuition for the next year. Being an international student was no joke. 

He would have gone back to New Jersey, but the positions he applied to in Montreal paid more so it wasn’t a hard decision to make. 

His parents would come visit him for some time in July, but for the most part he was alone. 

On late nights, he’d make his way to the McDonald’s in the neighbourhood, not knowing enough French to go anywhere else nearby. At least there, most of them spoke enough English to take his order, and if not it was really easy to point to the menu. 

“It’s already done?” he asked. 

“Give us some credit, hein. We knew you were coming, we had it ready.” 

James chuckled and handed him the money for the order, exchanging it for the bag which he took to a table and sat down. 

As he was pulling out his fries from his bag he heard the chime of the door and looked up curiously to see who was coming at this time of night. 

He stopped what he was doing when he recognized you, watching as you dug through your purse and spoke to the cashier in French. You both laughed about something James couldn’t quite catch and a little while later, after you had paid they handed you a bag and an ice cream cone when James heard you say something about ‘deux cuillères’ taking the utensils they gave you and turing straight towards James’ table, pulling out the chair across from him and sitting down. 

“I thought you lived in New Jersey,” you said. 

James was still stunned that you had noticed him and couldn’t find the words to speak. 

“Hey, heart-eyes?” you waved your hand in front of his face. “You okay?” 

“Y-Yeah,” he nodded, distracting himself by pulling out his burger from his bag. 

“So why aren’t you in Jersey?” you asked. 

“Work. I got a job here, it paid better.” 

“Hmm,” you hummed thoughtfully while eating some of your fries. “And all your friends?” 

“Back with their families, unfortunately for me,” he nodded. “W-What about you?” 

“Oh, I live here,” you shrugged. “In this neighbourhood actually.” 

“You live here?” he asked. 

“That’s what I said,” you nodded. 

“And so that’s how you know French?” 

“Every kid in Quebec learns French, it’s kind of a non-negotiable,” you shared. “I gather that’s why you’re eating here.” 

“Yeah, Pierre didn’t manage to teach me enough before he left,” he sighed and started to eat his meal. 

“I could teach you if you want. I’m taking a little break this summer so I have some spare time,” you offered. 

“Oh, I don’t want to-,” 

“James, you’re gonna have a shitty summer if you don’t say yes.”

He couldn’t argue with that, it would be nice to communicate more with the people who lived around him. 

“Okay, sure, but I’m warning you, I’m a terrible student.” 

“I used to tutor one of my siblings, trust me it can’t be worse than that,” you laughed. 

You chatted a little more, finishing your meals but not before you handed James a spoon. 

“So this is cuillère then?” he asked. “I-I overheard you talking to Jean.” 

“Yeah, your pronunciation isn’t bad either,” you nodded. “Here.” 

You pushed the ice cream cone between you and began to eat it with the spoon. James had a bit of a sweet tooth and wouldn’t be one to refuse dessert so he began to share the ice cream cone with you. 

“So, are you missing your girl in New Jersey?” you asked and James cursed internally, trying to come up with a lie to tell you. 

“Um, no not really,” he shook his head. “I don’t think we would have worked out anyways.” 

“Oh, so are your friends still calling you heart-eyes?” 

He nodded his head, thinking it was better not to say anything in case he gave himself away. 

“It’s good that you recognized you wouldn’t work out before you asked her out,” you said, “Couple guys wanted to go on dates with me this year, but just didn’t seem like the right fit. Plus, I don’t really think I’m looking for anything like that right now.”

James nodded his head again, silently eating the ice cream. 

“Ever been in love, James?” you asked. 

“That’s a really loaded question to ask someone you cornered in a McDonald’s at 11 P.M.” 

You ignored his response and continued, 

“I haven’t, it seems like such a big thing, how would you even know if it was love?” 

James looked up at the ceiling, silently asking God to not let him say something stupid, 

“I think most of the time it comes on gradually, maybe you won’t even know it at first.” 

“So you have been in love,” you confirmed and he shrugged his shoulders. 

“I…I don’t know. Maybe I have.” 

“That’s not a very straightforward answer.” 

“Then maybe I haven’t. I feel like if it was love, you’d figure it out, eventually.” 

You pursed your lips and nodded your head. 

“I hope I get to fall in love,” you smiled softly to yourself. “Seems nice.” 

“Yeah,” James agreed. “It does.” 

—

A few years later… 

“So how did it go?” Jian asked, as they sat around James’ small living room. 

“It…could have been better,” James sucked in some air through his teeth, recalling a recent memory from earlier that afternoon. 

“What the fuck James! You scared the shit out of me! I could have broken the hemocytometer, do you know how much that shit costs?!” 

“Sorry!” James quickly apologized and dropped his books down on the nearest surface to help you clean up, making you look up again at him with disdain. 

“In the BSC? Really? Now we have to resterilize and all the specimens I have in there are as good as compromised.” 

“Shit,” James muttered under his breath, he was usually so much better in the lab, but the second he was with you he became a bumbling mess. “I-I’ll take care of the BSC, I’m so sorry.” 

You sighed and removed your gloves, pinching the bridge of your nose. 

“It’s not just boiling water we’re dealing with anymore, James,” you said a little more calmly than before. “You’ve gotta be more careful, okay? I’m not losing my job over this.” 

James nodded his head and went to grab the things to sterilize the biological safety cabinet and grab the new specimen from the fridge. So much for trying to get a job at LSRC to impress you. 

“I was not built to be a researcher,” James shook his head. 

“I mean, it’s not that big of a screw up, you fixed it eventually, didn’t you?” Pierre asked.

“Yeah, but not until after a thorough amount of embarrassment.” 

“I thought girls found clumsy guys endearing,” Carlo commented. 

“Not when the girl is determined to become the leading medical researcher on the continent,” James sighed. “Maybe taking this job was a bad idea. From what I can see she hasn’t even changed her opinion on dating, she hasn’t been with anyone these past three years.” 

“Do you hear that?” Carlo removed his feet from the coffee table and placed them on the ground. “You’ve been in love with her for three years and haven’t done anything about it.” 

“Who said I was in love with her? And sure, maybe I haven’t made a move, but I learnt French!” James tried to defend himself, pointing to Pierre. 

“That’s not as good of a comeback as you think it is,” Pierre shook his head. 

“I know,” James hung his head low and sat on the couch between Pierre and Jian. “We’re gonna graduate in a year and she’s not gonna know I’m in love with her.” 

“So you are in love with her?” Jian looked over at his friend sympathetically. 

James leaned back and used the heels of his palms to cover his eyes. 

“He’s gonna have a meltdown, don’t ask him that,” Pierre shook his head. 

“God, I do love her!” he exclaimed like he was just finding it out for the first time himself. 

“What did I say,” Pierre sighed. 

“Can I make it stop?” James looked over at his friends who all shrugged. “I am so screwed.” 

“This time, I think we agree with you,” Carlo took a sip of his drink. “Good luck, man.” 

James squeezed his eyes shut, he would definitely need it. 

—

The year passed to graduation and James was still sitting on his feelings. It was much too late now to say anything. You’d already been accepted to a graduate program through your work with the LSRC and James had passed his MCAT with flying colours and was on his way to medical school at Columbia. 

As much as he didn’t want to admit it, he was going to miss Montreal, the city had grown on him during his time there and a part of him wished he could stay. 

His friends were also ready for the next stages in their studies, all going to different places across the continent to get their other degrees, with, of course, the promise to stay in touch. 

James didn’t know what the next little bit of his life had in store for him, but he hoped regardless of where he ended up, maybe he’d be able to make up for his missed opportunities. 

The years of medical school, once started, passed faster than James expected them to, and by the end of it, much to his own surprise, he’d also gotten married. 

You were almost all but forgotten in the back of his mind, but time continued to play its games. 

Medical school turned into a specialization in oncology, and a divorce. Then residency and a marriage. Then a second divorce. Then another marriage and more recently a position at a hospital in his hometown, on the board and a well respected oncologist and a few new friends…and a third divorce. 

“House, I’m not asking you to let them all sleep in your apartment, it’s just a dinner for one night, we’ll be out and about for the rest of the time that they’re here,” James sighed. 

“Can’t you just cancel?” House asked. “Divorce seems like a pretty good reason to get out of a reunion.” 

“See, the thing is, I’d rather not be miserable and see my friends instead, and they bought their tickets months ago. Please, House, I’ll do the dishes for a week.” 

“A month,” House said. 

“Two weeks,” James negotiated and House nodded, so they shook on it. 

“Good, now that I’ve done you a favour, you can do me one,” House smiled, but the kind of smile that was conniving, like he had something up his sleeve all along. 

“I paid you in chores for my favour, who says I owe you anything?” 

“Unless you want me to call your friends and cancel for you, you’ll do it,” House continued to walk the hospital’s hallways hobbling with his cane. 

“What is it?” James sighed, catching up with him. 

“We have a patient and he doesn’t speak very good English, but he does speak French. You went to McGill didn’t you? Must have picked up some of the love language.” 

“Unfortunately for me in this case, I did,” he nodded. 

“Perfect, come with me now,” House motioned with his head to the patient’s room and James trailed behind him. 

When he entered the room, House motioned for him to begin speaking. James hadn’t spoken a lot of French since his undergrad so he was definitely rusty, but he supposed it was better than nothing and began to explain that he would be helping with the translation.

“Erm, Bonjour, je suis Dr. Wilson, je vais aider Dr. House avec la traduction.” 

The man looked at James strangely before saying. 

“You’re an anglophone, but you speak French like you’re Quebecois.” 

“I um did my undergraduate in Montreal, I learnt how to speak there,” James responded back in French. 

“Hmm.” 

James could tell this wasn’t going to be fun. Some of the French held quite a bit of hate towards Quebec, who knew why, but his accent definitely wasn’t going to help him in this situation. 

House got James to ask some routine medical history questions and a few things about his symptoms all the while James had to filter out all the insults that were coming his way with regards to his “poor use of language” and “unintelligible accent”. 

When he could finally leave the room, James let out a string of French curses under his breath, still thinking in the other language. 

“House, why can’t you just get a proper translator?” he asked. “I’m terrible at this.” 

“Cuddy said something about making a big purchase recently and being currently unable to do so, especially since you put that you speak French in your resume. Bet you’re regretting that one now.” 

“Yeah,” James nodded his head. “Big time.” 

They began to walk towards the elevator to go to the cafeteria for lunch, when James decided to inquire more about Cuddy’s big purchase. 

“Oh, she said something about money this, medical research that,” House shook his head, “You know I stopped listening the second she wouldn’t give me what I wanted.” 

“She hired a medical researcher,” James said aloud, chewing on the words, “I wonder who she-,” 

His train of thought was cut off when he saw, near the elevator, a face he hadn’t seen since graduation day at McGill. 

Quickly, unable to think of anything else to do, he ran into the administrative area and hid crouched down behind a photocopier. 

House watched his friend curiously before walking over towards him and leaning against the copier asked him if he’d gone insane. 

“No, I just, um, remembered I needed to copy some patient files,” he lied. 

“You don’t have any with you,” House said. 

“I faxed them from my office,” he lied again. 

“I think I need to go get Foreman, clearly you’re having a neurological breakdown,” House said. 

“Can you just stop making it obvious I’m here?!” James exclaimed in a whisper. 

Unfortunately for him, as you were walking past, his harsh whisper made his location obvious, causing you to look down and see his familiar face. 

“Oh my God, heart-eyes, is that you?” you asked with a smile and James pressed his lips in a thin line and nodded. “What are you doing down there?” 

James became speechless and suddenly he was an eighteen-year-old back in his chemistry lab. 

“He’s checking to see if we need more toner,” House said, lying for his friend, but James knew that was all he would get out of him. “Well, that’s my cue to leave, you guys have fun.” 

You reached down and offered James a hand, helping him back into a standing position. 

“I haven’t seen you in so long,” you commented. “Like since we were-,” 

“22,” James filled in and you nodded. 

“Yeah,” you bit your lip before asking him how he had been. 

“Oh, you know,” he shrugged his shoulders. “I-I’m assuming you’re the medical researcher Cuddy hired?” 

“That would be correct,” you smiled. 

“Why did you choose to work here? I thought you were some big hotshot in Canada?” 

“I am a big hotshot, which is why I wanted to come to a teaching hospital. I thought maybe it would give more opportunities to teach other people what I know. It’s a win-win. I get to do what I want to and the hospital gets grant money from my research,” you explained. “It looks like you got where you wanted to be too, Mr. Oncologist.” 

“Actually it’s Dr. Oncologist,” he joked and you laughed, making his cheeks go red after hearing the sound.

“I missed having you around, James. We should catch up sometime,” you suggested. 

“Yeah sure,” he nodded. “I-I’d love that.” 

You excused yourself, needing to go introduce yourself to a class of medical students, waving goodbye to James, leaving him stuck in his tracks for a few moments before he could gather his senses again and head downstairs for lunch. 

—

“We could have rescheduled if this was too much, man,” Carlo watched James as he brought a large roast to the table for them to eat. 

“See? What did I tell you,” House rolled his eyes and James gave him a disapproving stare. 

“No, I wanted you guys to come, we’ve been planning this for months. I wasn’t going to let anything get in the way of it,” he assured his friends. “Plus, we know how hard it is to nail down Pierre, I swear you are always travelling. Every time we talk you’re in a different country.” 

“That’s the life of a parasitologist,” he shrugged and helped James by beginning to cut the roast. 

“And Jian, how’s the wife and kids?” 

“They’re good,” Jian smiled. “Mei started first grade in September. Becky and I are both up for promotions at the hospital, so I can’t really complain. Although I think Carlo can.” 

“Seriously it’s not that big of a deal,” Carlo groaned, “Sure yeah, pharmaceuticals are more flashy than biophysics, but that doesn’t mean that my research wasn’t better.” 

“Well if it was better why did William get the award?” James asked and Carlo just flipped him the bird. 

“Didn’t we go to school with him?” Pierre asked. 

“We did?” James raised a brow. 

“Yeah, for a year, from Toronto, huge stoner. Hated being there and did literally no work, but still managed to get honours,” Jian explained. 

“Sounds like my kinda guy,” House commented and James rolled his eyes. 

Just as they continued to dish out dinner, House’s pager went off and he sighed, excusing himself from the table while practically threatening James to leave him some food. 

When House left, James’ friends saw their opening and began their personal line of questioning. 

“Hey, James, are you really okay?” Jian asked. 

“Why wouldn’t I be okay?” James asked in return. 

“You’re getting a divorce,” Pierre said. “Seems like a pretty good reason to not be okay.” 

James shook his head, 

“Yeah sure, it’s a shitty situation,” he admitted. “Did I imagine myself at this point in my life with three failed marriages? No, definitely not. Can I do anything to change it? Also no, and right now I really wouldn’t want to change it.” 

“Can we ask what happened?” Carlo queried. 

“She cheated on me, then left me,” James said simply. 

“Forgive me,” Pierre said. “But you seemed a lot more upset when we talked over the phone last week. What changed?” 

James looked down at his plate and cut into his roast, thinking about what Pierre had said. It was true, even earlier today he was sulking about, that was until he ran into you. 

“I swear,” James started, “if you guys make a big deal about this I will murder you all,” he used his knife to point at all of them and they nodded, swearing their silence. “I’ve got heart-eyes again.” 

“You met someone new?” Jian asked and Carlo shook his head. 

“No, he re-met someone old. Tell me, did your hospital recently hire a medical researcher?” 

James nodded his head and the table was about to erupt into a loud chorus of comments when James gave them a look and they all restrained themselves. 

“James, I’m being dead serious when I say this, but you should have married her,” Pierre insisted. “I never saw you look at anyone else the way you looked at her.” 

“Probably explains the three divorces then, doesn’t it? I was still in love with her the whole time,” James sighed. “It’s going to come up eventually, seems like a pretty big indicator that I’m not good at relationships.” 

“Who knows, maybe she won’t care,” Jian offered. 

“What was it like when you saw her again?” Carlo asked, looking for any opportunity to tease his friend. 

“How do you think it was? I could barely talk, I was a nervous wreck, and blushing like crazy,” he shook his head at the thought of it. “I could literally feel the blood rushing to my cheeks. I feel like a middle school girl every time I’m near her.”

“Who knows, maybe she still thinks you have circulation issues,” Jian shrugged and the table laughed. 

“What I would give to stay here and watch this play out,” Carlo sighed and leaned back in his seat. 

“Knowing James, you’d have to be here for ten years before he made a move on her,” Pierre raised a brow and James threw a piece of potato at him. 

“If you ever do get the guts to ask her out, call us. We’ve made bets on this,” Carlo added. 

“Real comforting, guys,” James ate a bite of the roast. “I thought this was supposed to be my pity party.” 

“Not anymore,” Jian shook his head. “You’ve got heart-eyes.” 

This time around, James thought maybe he didn’t mind the nickname as much as he used to. 

—

“I would think they’d get you your own office at this point,” James commented as he entered his office, seeing you sitting at his desk, eating a pre-packed lunch. 

“Beats me,” you shrugged and continued to eat. 

“So you’ve decided that invading my office is your next best bet?” 

“Oh hush,” you waved him off with your fork. 

“Well, excuse me for wanting to come to a safe place after being verbally assaulted by House’s patient,” he sat on the opposite side of the desk and leaned back in the chair. 

“Verbally assaulted?” you asked. “By a patient who isn’t even your own?” 

“He doesn’t like the way I speak French,” James rolled his eyes. “I’m translating while they’re treating him since the department used all its money hiring you.” 

“What can I say, hotshots cost a lot of money.” 

“You know, you could do the translation, probably much better than I can,” he noted. 

“I could, but you probably need the practice more than I do, chèri,” you scrunched your nose in a cute mocking way and James could feel the blood rushing to his cheeks yet again. “You still keeping up with that posse of yours?” you asked, changing the subject. 

“Yeah, they all flew in to visit a few days ago, we’re gonna go out tonight,” he said. “Do you…maybe want to join us?” he suggested. 

“I don’t have plans, as long as they’re okay with it I’d love to come,” you smiled. 

“Oh trust me, they will definitely be okay with it.” 

—

Later that night, James was drinking deeply from his glass while he watched his friends stare blankly ahead at you. If he looked anything like they did all those times his words were caught in his throat, then he hoped to spontaneously combust right then and there. 

“Heart-eyes, I thought you said they were okay with me coming?” you leaned over and whispered to him. 

James put down his glass and nodded his head. 

“They are okay with it, right?” 

Snapping out of their daze, the three men nodded their heads and finally began professing assurances that everything was fine. 

“It’s just… you said James invited you?” Jian asked with furrowed bows. 

“Yeah,” you nodded. “He mentioned you guys were in town and getting together tonight and asked me if I wanted to join.” 

James bit down on his tongue trying not to say anything, but also gave his friends a look to shut up before they gave anything away. He knew what was running through their minds, they were wondering how the hell he’d gotten the guts to ask you to come, but there was one fundamental difference between tonight and any other time he could have possibly asked you. This wasn’t a date, therefore, there was no pressure. 

“Maybe you could tell them what you’ve been up to since they last saw you?” James suggested. 

“Oh, um, well, I got my master’s degree and doctorate at McGill, both for research in cancer biology-,” 

“Cancer biology?” Pierre interrupted. “I don’t remember you mentioning you were interested in that.” 

“I-I wasn’t initially,” you admitted. “Just after spending more time in the LSRC and a few other irrelevant things I decided it was the best fit for me to focus on.” 

“You and heart-eyes make a pretty good pair then,” Carlo raised his eyebrows suggestively and took a sip of his drink. 

“I guess we do,” you chuckled. “As long as he leaves the research to me. We all know what he’s like in the lab.” 

“I resent that,” James protested only before saying, “but I do deserve it.” 

“It’s a miracle he hasn’t had a medical malpractice suit,” Pierre added. 

You asked the boys about where their various careers had taken them and how they were each doing. The conversation stayed pretty normal until the topic changed to relationships, starting with Jian’s wife and family back in Vancouver and Pierre’s husband who was currently in Australia doing research on some massive insect. 

“What about you Carlo?” you asked. “Anyone special in your life?” 

“Nah,” he waved his hand. 

“What about the mom of the kid who pet sits for you?” Jian asked. 

“That kid charges me per animal, per size. If I were to date his mom he’d probably charge me for dating her too, and I don’t think I can afford his price,” he shook his head and the table laughed. 

“James, you’ve been quiet,” you said. “Nothing to share?” 

James nervously took a sip of his drink and looked over at his friends for help. 

“James hasn’t had the best luck in love,” Pierre settled on. 

“Oh, haven’t found anybody, that’s not a big deal,” you assured him. “I haven’t either.” 

“Well,” Carlo said in a high-pitched voice. “It’s not exactly that he hasn’t found anybody.” 

“So there’s someone-?” 

“I’m divorced,” James blurted. “Three times. Or soon to be three anyway.” 

“Oh,” you paused and tried to think of the right thing to say, but for the moment settled on nothing while Pierre changed the subject. 

After the visit was over, James offered to walk you to your car and you accepted. The walk started off in silence, but you decided to break it. 

“You know, I hope you find the right person eventually,” you said. “It’s unfortunate things didn’t work out three times.” 

“Yeah,” James nodded in agreement. “I-um, do you ever think about that conversation we had, in the McDonald’s by my apartment?” 

“Sometimes I do,” you admitted. 

“Looking back on that, I wonder if we ever really loved each other. If we did this probably wouldn’t have happened. We would have fixed things, worked on ourselves instead of just…giving up.” 

“So I guess you still haven’t fallen in love yet?” you asked, but he stayed silent. “Whoever it is, I’m sure things will find a way to work out for you.”

“The moment may have passed on that,” he said with his hands shoved in his pockets and looking down at the ground. 

“You never know, James. Sometimes life has a funny way of surprising you.” 

—

James watched as his colleagues and a few of the students from the university left the lecture hall while he continued to sit in his seat, watching you walk up towards him. 

“Don’t you have patients or something?” you asked. “You’re at all of my lectures.” 

“Doesn’t it seem appropriate for an oncologist to attend a cancer biology lecture?” he asked as you sat down next to him. 

“I suppose so,” you sighed. “Doesn’t explain why you weren’t taking notes though.” 

James looked down at his empty hands and cursed a little internally. 

“It’s okay,” you assured him. “I don’t mind the staring, it reminds me of school.” 

“You noticed?” he asked. 

“You weren’t very subtle,” you chuckled. 

“Yeah, not one of my strong suits,” he blushed, embarrassed. 

“Do you wanna go grab lunch before your break is over?” you asked and James nodded, standing up and offering you a hand to get out of your seat. 

You went to the cafeteria, running into his friend House who managed to get his food paid for by James, yet again, before leaving to go back up to his office and work on another differential diagnosis with his employees. 

“Did all the guys get back home safe after their trip?” you asked, digging into your food. 

“Carlo and Jian are back home, Pierre went to go be with Ollie in Australia.”

“It must be hard not living near them.” 

James sighed and nodded his head. “It’s a balance. When they’re being annoying, it’s great that they don’t live here and when they’re not, it sucks.” 

“Spoken like a true friend,” you chuckled. 

“What about you? Do you still keep in touch with people from school? During any of your degrees?” 

“Not really,” you shook your head. “After my undergrad I became so laser focused on my school I didn’t pay attention to relationships that much outside of my family. Starting to regret it a bit now.” 

“Kind of hard to have a good conversation with cancer cells,” James said sarcastically and you shook your head. “Do you like it in New Jersey so far?” 

“Not as much as back home,” you admitted, “but it is nice to have a friend here.”

“Yeah, Jersey is…an acquired taste,” he settled on, making you laugh, but your laughter was cut off by the sound of his pager, and he looked down to see what the message was before quickly standing up. “Sorry, I have to-,” 

“Don’t worry,” you assured him. “I’ll pack up your food and bring it to your office.” 

“Thanks,” he nodded and you waved goodbye as he ran off out of the cafeteria and to the oncology floor to go help one of his patients. 

—

James didn’t find himself walking around the campus often, but when he did it was usually because he had to clear his head. With everything that was going on in his life, in addition to the circumstances of this case, he was taking it harder than normal. 

He had left his coat in his office as the hot New Jersey sun was already beating down, his hands shoved in his pockets and his eyes following his feet as he took his steps forward. 

He didn’t notice you sitting on a bench as he was passing by. Curious as to his state, you stood up and went to meet up with him. 

“Hey James, are you okay?” 

Your voice pulled him out of his thoughts almost instantly. He stopped to look up at you, seeing the concern reflecting in your eyes. 

He took his hands out of his pockets and motioned for you to walk with him. 

“I lost a patient today,” he explained. “He was 11.” 

“Oh, James, I’m so sorry,” you said softly. 

“In med school you learn pretty quickly if you don’t find a way to deal with what you face every day the result is never good,” he said and you noticed him chewing on the inside of his cheek, “but it was just too sunny outside. How could it be sunny on a day like this?” 

You didn’t say anything initially, only intertwining your hand with his and giving it a light squeeze which he returned. 

“You know, I think it’s probably okay, every once in a while, to let yourself mourn your patients. Just like everyone else. You have a uniquely difficult job, James, and no one would hold it against you if you need a minute to adjust.” 

James stopped walking and you followed his lead, only to have him let go of your hand and pull you into a tight hug. You easily wrapped your arms around his neck while his arms were around your waist. 

“You’re a good doctor, James,” you mumbled. “I know, even if you don’t quite believe it right now, you did everything you could to help that young boy and make him more comfortable.” 

You could feel him nod his head, clearly not trusting himself to say anything at the moment. 

Neither of you wanted to let go, but you knew that you both had work to get back to. James had other patients he was responsible for and you had some work to do in one of the hospital labs. 

So silently, hand in hand, you accompanied each other back to the hospital, grateful for each other’s company. 

—

“I swear, if I stay there any longer I’m going to go mad,” James whispered to you under his breath as you walked along the halls of the hospital with him to help him run some tests for a few patients. 

“What was it this time?” you asked, huddling in closer, waiting for him to spill the beans on why living with his best friend was becoming unbearable. 

“He keeps pranking me,” he began to explain and you could see how frustrated he was just by his hand movements. “Last night he thought of the genius idea to put my hand in warm water while I was sleeping and-,” James stopped himself, realizing he’d divulged too much, just as your eyes went wide. 

“Oh my God you didn’t wet the bed did you?” you asked in a chuckle and James quickly covered your mouth saying, 

“Shh! The whole hospital doesn’t need to hear you!” 

You couldn’t hold in your laugh, muffled by James’ hand over your mouth and his cheeks were a bright cherry red. 

Eventually you pulled his hand away and said, 

“You definitely need to get out of there. That’s criminal.” 

“Exactly what I’m saying,” James agreed. 

“Hey, why don’t you come over to my place tonight?” you suggested. “We can watch a movie or something together.” 

“That sounds like exactly what I need right now,” he nodded his head. “What time?” 

“Come over at eight, it’ll give me some time to get snacks and get ready.” 

“You’ve got yourself a deal,” he held out his hand and you took it shaking it firmly. 

Later that evening while James was getting ready, House watched him curiously. 

“I still don’t believe that you blowdry your hair,” he said loudly over the sound of the appliance. 

“Believe it or not, I do,” James responded. 

“It just seems so pointless, your hair is messy anyways,” he crossed his arms and James gave him a look. 

“My hair looks fine, yours on the other hand could use a trim and about a billion other things,” James retorted.

“So, is this a date?” House asked, changing the topic. 

“No, it’s not a date,” James shook his head. “It’s an opportunity for me to get away from your insanity.” 

“Are you sure it’s not a date?” he asked. 

“What makes you think it's a date?” he finally gave in and turned around to face his friend, turning off the blow dryer. 

“Well if you asked her if you could come over, probably not a date, but if she offered…” he shrugged his shoulders. 

James shook his head, he didn’t want to allow himself to believe it was true, because if it was, he’d probably overthink things and make a fool of himself. 

“It’s not a date,” he reiterated and House stopped pressing, seeing as his friend would not be reasoned with. 

James finished fixing his hair and grabbed his keys and a coat before stepping out of the door. 

It didn’t take him long to drive to your house and when he knocked at the door he heard shuffling inside before the lock clicked and you opened it. 

“Hey! You got the dress code memo,” you joked, pointing to his McGill sweater and then back at yours. 

“I thought you might like a blast from the past,” he smiled and you invited him inside. 

As he entered he noticed the array of pillows on the couch, blankets draped over arm chairs, and books piled on every surface possible. To top it off, the house was currently only lit by lamps allowing a warm orange hue to fall over the space. It made James’ shoulders relax and he could even feel his nervous heart rate slow. 

“Do you like it?” you asked. “I am by no means an interior decorator, but I tried to make it feel cozy so it’s nice to come back to after long days at work.” 

“I do like it,” James nodded. “A lot. It feels like a home.” 

“Perfect, that’s exactly what I was going for,” you smiled. “You’re the first guest I’ve had here, you know?” 

“Really? No fancy dinner parties with the hospital board?” 

“No, not yet,” you chuckled. “Unfortunately, this guy in the oncology department keeps taking up all my time.”

You grabbed his hand and dragged him over to the couch. 

“But don’t worry, I don’t mind.” 

After he took off his coat, you both sat down next to each other, James extending his hand along the back of the couch and you naturally sat right up next to him, leaning forward to grab the remote and turn on the movie. 

“What did you pick?” James asked. 

“Just some random horror movie,” you said. “I heard it’s really cheesy.” 

“We’ll see about that,” James raised his brows and grabbed the popcorn from the table, putting it in between you both. 

You pressed play once you were both settled and tossed the remote to the side of the couch, curling your legs up and waiting in anticipation for the movie to begin.

It didn’t take long for the horror plot to begin, jumping right into the satanic murders and supernatural deaths. Just as you had predicted, it was cheesy, but that didn’t stop you from being startled whenever something popped up unexpectedly on the screen. 

Both of you were lulled into a false sense of security during what seemed like a quiet part of the movie, then, all of a sudden, the killer jumped into the frame with a loud change in the soundtrack, causing you to shriek and move towards James, also feeling him jump slightly from being startled. 

You both looked up at each other and laughed at the ridiculousness of your collective fright. 

“You’re supposed to be the calm one,” you elbowed him. 

“I know it just-Jesus!” James found himself inadvertently closing his eyes and wrapping his arm around you as if it would give him some protection from what was on the screen. 

You laughed again and leaned closer into his side, patting his leg to assure him it was safe to open his eyes again. 

“You must enjoy torturing me, that’s the only explanation for this,” James looked over at you and you shook your head. 

“Come on, heart-eyes, you think that lowly of me?” 

James couldn’t stop the smile that creeped past his lips, “No, of course not.” 

“Good, that means I still have the upper hand,” you moved your head to look back at the TV, but not before James tickled you in retaliation for your words. 

It took a moment, but you eventually surrendered and moved your focus back to the movie, still feeling a little warm from your laughter. 

You grabbed some of the other candies and snacks from the table, holding a gummy bear up for James to try and he did without so much as a second thought. 

“Still have a sweet tooth I see,” you offered him a different candy which he ate again and nodded. 

“You don’t want to know how many cavities I’ve had.” 

“Here,” you handed him a wrapped treat. “This one’s special from home.” 

“Maple candies,” he smiled. “They don’t make ‘em like they do in Montreal.” 

“They were your favourite, right?” you asked. 

James looked over at you again curiously, “You remembered that?” 

“Of course I did,” you shrugged. “Oh wait, look,” you pointed to the TV before grimacing and covering your eyes, but still peeking through your fingers. “Ew!” 

James just smiled at you, finding it harder and harder to resist the urge to kiss you, the thought bringing a warm sensation to his stomach. 

He settled instead on doing what he’d been doing forever: staring at you with heart-eyes. 

—

James tried to fight a yawn as he grabbed one of the many books on the shelves in his office, taking it to his couch and sitting down next to you. 

“You don’t have to do this, James,” you told him. “You probably have to be back tomorrow morning, you should go home and rest.” 

“No, no, it’s fine,” he insisted. “You look in here for that article I was telling you about and I’ll start proofreading.” 

There were many papers and files strewn around the couch, you couldn’t remember when you first came in, but James never seemed to mind when you worked in his office instead of your own. 

“Are you sure?” you asked. “I feel like I brought a tornado in here.” 

James looked up from your paper and nodded his head. 

“Now hush and let me read.” 

“Sorry, sorry,” you chuckled, opening the medical journal he had handed you, flipping through the contents until you found the article title he had mentioned. 

James had a pen in his hand, scribbling down annotations on the side, correcting a few typos and grammatical errors. 

For the most part, he was able to follow along, but at one point, the words became so incoherent he tapped you to make sure his eyes weren’t playing tricks on him. 

“What does this say here?” he asked. “I-I don’t know if my eyes just stopped working, but what does stirring in sugar and eggs have to do with this trial treatment?” 

“Oh my God,” you grabbed the paper and looked at it closer. “I must have accidentally copied some of my mom’s cookie recipe on here before changing documents. What in the world is going on with me?” 

Maybe it was the exhaustion settling in or some other things James couldn’t quite pinpoint, but he felt himself letting out a chuckle that grew a little longer, and longer until it was a full blown laugh. 

It was an honest mistake, and arguably not that funny, but you’d be hard pressed to convince him of that in that moment, and instead, seeing the silliness of the situation, you joined in.

Eventually, when the laughter died down, you and James both leaning far back against the couch, he turned to you and apologized. 

“I’m sorry, I should probably read this when I have a bit more sanity.” 

“Don’t be,” you patted his leg. “I can always use a good laugh.” 

With your heads still turned to face each other, you suggested to pause the work and resume it another time, to which James agreed. 

You both continued to sit there in silence, looking over at each other and James caught a glimmer of something in your eyes and had to blink a few times to make sure it was still there. It was a soft look, a little dazed, like you were happily daydreaming about something far off. It took him a moment to realize it, since he had been the one giving that look, he’d never really had a chance to see it for himself. 

You had heart-eyes. 

And more importantly, you had them while you were looking at James. 

With a sudden boost of courage, fuelled by lowered inhibitions, he started by asking, 

“Have I ever told you why my friends call me heart-eyes?” 

You tilted your head a little, following his lead and sitting up straight. 

“Wasn’t it because of that girl you had a crush on that was from here?” 

James opened his mouth and then shut it, shaking his head. 

“There was never a girl from Jersey,” he admitted. 

“Why would they say it was a girl from Jersey if there was…” as you said the sentence you slowed down, the realization dawning on you. 

“All the staring makes a bit more sense now?” he asked. 

You blinked a few times, “I just thought you were really awkward,” you said. 

“I was, but if the staring didn’t give it away the blushing really should have done it,” he chuckled. 

“I thought you had a circulation issue!” you exclaimed and James burst out laughing, of course you did. “God, James, why didn’t you say anything?” 

James shook his head, “I could barely string out a coherent sentence when I was around you. Makes it a little hard to say anything.” 

“Makes me wish I had said something,” you said, feeling your own cheeks heat up at the admission. 

“Y-You would’ve said something?” 

Now it was James’ turn to be surprised. 

“I think most of the time it comes on gradually, maybe you won’t even know it at first. That’s what you said to me, but that eventually, if it was love, I’d know it.” 

You reached out and held James’ hands in your own. 

“I should have said something. I could have said something. We could have had so much more-,” 

“James,” you whispered, interrupting him and he stopped. “Shut up and kiss me.” 

James wasn’t going to waste another second, removing his hands from your to instead gently hold your face, bringing you closer to him so he could finally do what he had been dreaming about since he was 18 years old. 

The dim light of his desk lamp, the papers crumpled beneath and around you, the way you moved closer and slid into his lap, his hands now on your hips and your fingers snaking through his hair, it all melted into one and if you let yourselves imagine, just a bit, the lamp became a light in the library; the papers became unfinished homework assignments and lab write-ups, and you hadn’t missed a second of the time you could have spent together. 

Your kisses soon turned slow and repetitive and neither of you wanted to pull away, living in the moment like it was your last. 

“When…did you realize…you loved me?” you asked between kisses, moving away from his mouth, instead letting your lips find their way across his jaw and up to his temple. 

“Our last year of school,” he paused your kisses so he could kiss you properly again. “Carlo said something and-,” he shook his head and sighed. “I realized I was going to leave without you ever knowing how I felt and even though eventually I thought maybe I’d stopped loving you and started to love other people…I just kept trying to fill that space that only you fit in.” 

“First year of my master’s for me,” you rested your forehead against his. “Suddenly you weren’t there anymore and I really wished that wasn’t the case.” 

He tilted his head up to meet you in another kiss that was far too easy to melt into. Neither of you had any complaints and you knew you’d never get tired looking into his heart-eyes.

@cuntyvicodin

[bethanydelleman]

Hello!

I rewatched Pride and Prejudice and it's surprising how my thoughts on it changed over the years 😃

When I was a teenager, Elizabeth Bennet was the plucky heroine that I wanted to be (lol) , now I'm older with a mortgage and responsibilities/bills, I'm like what was her plan in life?

Because she wasn't really educated per se (im thinking about how she answered lady Catherine about what she has to recommend her re:drawing, playing the piano etc) so I guess a 'career'(no matter how little it would be available at that time) was out of the question, but accepting marraige to the (admittedly obsequious) Mr Collins was also out of the question as well as Mr Darcys first proposal (which I get why sge turned it down!) ...I guess I'm asking what Elizabeth's plan for her future.

I've heard this from a lot of people upon re-read, "Why isn't Elizabeth more worried about her future?" I think there are a few things to note.

Early 1800s or not, Elizabeth is 20 years old when the novel begins (the average age of first marriage for women was 23). 27 year old Charlotte is in more of a future panic, but Elizabeth is still young. She has done practical thing like learn to play piano, but like most young people, she's probably just hoping for the best. And it's not like there is much she can actually do, Elizabeth is putting herself out there, she's dancing, she's playing piano, but otherwise she can just hurry up and wait. Her mother's marriage schemes are seen as vulgar and mostly backfire, and we would hardly want Elizabeth to act like Caroline. We read across Austen's novel's that women are largely stationary and it is the men who move in and out of their lives.

Also, I think a big part of Austen's point is that women are in a position where they feel the need to accept any and every proposal, because as Mr. Collins says, they may never receive another, but that this leads to misery (just look at the older couples and how many of them are unhappy!). While somewhat foolish from a financial perspective, Elizabeth is thinking about her long term happiness. She has watched her father turn bitter in an unequal relationship, she does not want that for herself. Elizabeth is choosing possible spinsterhood over being married to a person she knows she could not respect. Marrying for love, or at least on a basis of respect, is a big theme in Austen's novels. Let me add this quote from Mansfield Park to illustrate this point:

“I should have thought,” said Fanny, after a pause of recollection and exertion, “that every woman must have felt the possibility of a man’s not being approved, not being loved by some one of her sex at least, let him be ever so generally agreeable. Let him have all the perfections in the world, I think it ought not to be set down as certain that a man must be acceptable to every woman he may happen to like himself.... And, and—we think very differently of the nature of women, if they can imagine a woman so very soon capable of returning an affection as this seems to imply.”

So yes, Elizabeth Bennet isn't being financially prudent but she is being sensible in preserving her happiness. And for realism, we know Austen made this decision herself! She turned down an eligible offer.

Next, Mrs. Bennet is somewhat exaggerating: they are very unlikely to starve or be destitute. While it is never explicitly stated, Mr. Gardiner seems to be doing very well, and would probably very happily take at least Jane and Elizabeth if Mr. Bennet died. Mr. Philips is also doing well for a country attorney, he could take in his sister-in-law and nieces. It is going to suck, the Bennets should have planned better, but it's not the end of the world. We also do not know Mr. Bennet's age, but he may well only be in his late forties. He's no Mr. Woodhouse who may die tomorrow in a stiff breeze.

So what is Elizabeth's plan? She doesn't have one, she's 20. She's hoping life will throw her a man with a decent income that she doesn't hate. It works out in the end, but I don't think she would live to regret either turned down proposal if she had never met Darcy again.

[fortheloveofwonderland]

My Reply | S.R

This one was a request from the lovely @reidsaurora-replies for my milestone celebration which got wildly out of hand. I think I damn near used every lyric of the song in this one. Also, Maeve does not exist in this universe. I felt like his phone calls with her were too similar to the letters with reader and not needed

Summary - Spencer writes his deepest tragedies down on paper for his pen pal. After ten years of exchanging letters and some divine intervention from JJ, the two of you finally come face to face.

CW - this one covers most of Spencer’s canon storylines including Tobis Hankel and his drug addiction, his moms illness, his fathers abandonment, getting shot in the knee, his headaches, Emily’s “death”, prison arc, Mr Scratch and Emily’s kidnapping, angst, interfering friends, lots of literary quotes.

WC - 6.3k

Making friends was always something Spencer Reid had been inherently bad at. He was always too young or too smart which always seemed to put people off of forming friendships with him. 

When he joined the BAU, his team called themselves his friends. But Spencer knew if he’d met any of them outside of work he would have nothing in common with them. 

They were simply friends by proximity, which admittedly was better than having no friends at all. But he couldn’t talk to them about everything, afraid to scare them away with talk of his mothers illness or his fathers abandonment. 

And sometimes he just needed to talk to someone. 

It was Garcia’s idea that he sign up for a pen pal. When she found out about his mom during the course of the fisher king case, he’d confessed that he didn’t feel comfortable talking to the team about such things. 

At first she’d actually suggested talking to someone online, she had many online friends who she talked to in various chat rooms. But after almost an hour of trying to explain that to the technophobe doctor and getting little more than a deep frown in response, she changed tact. 

A pen pal appealed to Spencer greatly. He already wrote daily letters to his mom and found it somewhat cathartic, getting his thoughts down on the page, but he never bothered her with the darker stuff. 

The idea of a faceless person he’d never meet reading his deepest, darkest thoughts was actually intriguing to him. And so with the help of Penelope he found himself a pen pal. 

In his first letter he’d just introduced the basics, his name and age, what he did for a living and that he lived in DC. 

He went on to explain how hard he found it to make friends and the difficulties of talking to his already established friends about the darker parts of his life. He ended the letter with a quote from To Kill a Mockingbird.

“You never really understand a person until you consider things from his point of view…until you climb inside of his skin and walk around in it.” - Harper Lee.

He received a reply little over a week later. 

Your name was Y/N and you were twenty two, three years younger than him and a grad student at Columbia University. You told him you would be happy to read whatever he sent you, that you were more than willing for him to write to you about the things he didn’t tell his friends. 

You signed off with a quote of your own quote from the book Infinite Jest.

“You will become way less concerned with what other people think of you when you realise how seldom they do.” - David Foster Wallace. 

And so he did just as you said and he wrote another letter. 

His second letter to you was five pages long. He went into great detail about his mothers illness, how he’d been left to deal with it alone at ten years old. He wrote about how he’d made the decision at eighteen years old to have her committed to a sanitarium. 

He told you about growing up as a child prodigy in Las Vegas and how hard that was. You were the first person he ever told about Alexa Lisbon and being tied naked to a flagpole. 

He spoke about the events surrounding Elle leaving the team and how it didn’t feel complete without her. 

He ended the letter by apologising profusely that he’d wasted your time with his long winded rambles and said he hoped to hear from you soon and scrawled a quote from The Great Gatsby.

“The loneliest moment in someone’s life is when they are watching their whole world fall apart, and all they can do is stare blankly.” - F. Scott Fitzgerald.

He said he would understand if you didn’t reply. But you did. 

The letter took two weeks to arrive and you explained that it was because you wanted to really process his words and give each and every one of them the time they deserved. He read the last few lines of your letter over and over again in a loop even though they were etched into his memory after only one glance.

I wish there was something I could say, to erase each and every page you've been through,

even though it's not my place to save you. 

“When I get lonely these days, I think: so be lonely. Learn your way around loneliness. Make a map of it. Sit with it, for once in your life. Welcome to the human experience. But never again use another person’s body or emotions as a scratching post for your own unfulfilled yearnings.” - Elizabeth Gilbert - Eat, Pray, Love. 

He wasn’t familiar with the book and so he’d gone out and brought it and read it cover to cover within an hour. 

Reading your letter made Spencer feel understood for the first time in his young life. You didn’t pass judgement on him. Spencer found that between the pages of your letters he found a kindred spirit. 

The letters continued back and forth for several months until one day you didn’t receive a reply. His last letter had been penned to you on route to a case in Atlanta, which you’d responded to the day you received it. But there was radio silence from Spencer. 

You shouldn’t have been as worried as you were, but you couldn’t help yourself. His letters had become such a huge part of your world, often rereading them hundreds of times just to make sure you didn’t miss any little nuance on the page. 

His handwriting was ingrained within you, his scrawly, sometimes barely legible penmanship danced behind your eyelids every time you closed your eyes. His letters had rapidly become the best part of any day. And for over a year you didn’t receive a reply. 

After a while you’d stopped holding out hope every time you collected your mail. Eventually you gave up ever expecting to hear from him again. Maybe he didn’t need you anymore. Perhaps he’d made a real life friend, maybe even a girlfriend and you’d been rendered ineffective. 

But then little over a year after you sent your last letter, you found an envelope in your mail slot with the familiar handwriting you adored so much and the DC postmark. 

Y/N,

I don’t really have any excuses, all I can say is I’m sorry. I have written you fifty three letters over the course of the last year but never mailed a single one. They are piled up on my desk, addressed and even stamped, but I couldn’t bring myself to mail them. 

I’ve been struggling, I can’t lie to you. I can’t even lie to you through a letter and tell you I’ve been fine because I haven’t. I think you would see through my prose, know that I wasn’t being truthful. And you’ve never given me a reason to be anything but honest with you.

The case in Atlanta was one of the hardest I’ve ever worked. I’m not going to beat around the bush, I’m just going to tell what happened and hopefully this letter will end up with you and not in the pile on my desk. 

I was kidnapped by the man we were hunting down. I spent two days tied to a chair being beaten within an inch of my life but a man with multiple personalities. In fact, that’s not strictly true. I wasn’t beaten within an inch of my life; one of the personas killed me. 

I’m not entirely sure how long I was technically dead before he revived me but obviously not long enough to cause permanent neurological damage. Irreversible brain damage occurs after four minutes without oxygen so it stands to reason it was less than four minutes. 

But during that time, my life flashed before my eyes, including every single word of every single one of your letters. 

One of the alter’s drugged me in his own way of trying to save me. Drugging me was supposed to help with the pain, both mental and physical. I fought it at first, desperate for him not to stick that needle in my vein. But after that first hit, I stopped resisting. 

I think you can probably already see where this is going. You’re incredibly smart and you seem to know me so well. After I shot Tobias Hankel dead I took three vials of dilaudid from his corpse. 

I should have prefaced this by saying I am now ten months sober, and offered up the good news first. But there were several months that I continued using the drug in secret, hoping it would aid in erasing the memories of it all. 

It took a case in New Orleans in which I met up with an old friend Ethan and ended up almost destroying my career for me to decide to get sober. I’ve had a lot of difficulties in my life, as you know, but getting clean is the hardest thing I have ever done. 

And now for the first time in months I’m craving again. Maybe that’s why I’m writing to you, determined to send this letter this time. I need to know that everything is going to be ok and you are the only one that I will believe it from. 

My team tries. Now it's all out in the open, they try to help. But you don’t even need to try. Your help is so effortless, so easy and I’m in real need of that right now. 

His letter went on in this vein for another six pages. He also included several pages of handwritten poetry which he had copied out of a book to send you. With each word you consumed you felt your heart breaking for him a piece at a time. 

And he signed off with a surprising choice of quote from The Lorax.

“Unless someone like you cares a whole awful lot, nothing is going to get better. It’s not.” - Dr Seuss. 

You spent the next month or so trying to cultivate the perfect reply, but for the first time in your life, words failed you. 

It was three days after Spencer received his one year sober chip that your letter arrived. 

I got your letter and the poetry you sent me, postmarked in December of last year. I really hope you’re doing better, all your friends close by your side, one step closer to recovery.

I hope by the time you receive this you are close to one year sober, but if you didn’t make it you need to know that’s ok too. Life is full of ups and downs Spencer. If you didn’t make it this time you will the next time. Or the one after that. 

If you relapsed I need you to not beat yourself up over it. You will be ok, Spencer Reid, for that I am certain. 

“There is no greater agony than bearing an untold story inside of you.” Maya Angelou - I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings. 

***

When he got shot in the knee, he wrote to you from the hospital. He told you how hard it was for him to turn down pain medication when he was in so much agony. But he was over two years sober now and he wouldn’t do anything to risk a relapse. 

Your reply spoke of how proud of him you were and how you knew it couldn’t have been easy for him but you hoped the fact you were proud went some way to aid him. 

He told you it meant more to him than you would ever know. 

Then he started having headaches and the letters became sporadic. When he did write he told you how painful it was for him to try to focus on the words in front of him. 

I’ve seen so many doctors and no one can tell me what’s wrong with me. It’s like they think I’m making it up, like this pain isn’t real. 

On my good days it’s a dull throb but on the bad days it’s nearly paralysing. I’m so scared that this is a precursor for schizophrenia. I'm still young enough for my first break, and it is a genetic illness. 

I love my mom but I can’t turn out like her, Y/N, I just can’t. I'm so, so scared. 

But your letters are the greatest comfort to me. I don’t think there are words to describe how much they mean - I will try to surmise it with a quote from Charlotte's Web -

"'Why did you do all this for me?' he asked. 'I don't deserve it. I've never done anything for you.' 'You have been my friend,' replied Charlotte. 'That in itself is a tremendous thing.'" - E.B White.

You could feel his fear through the pages. His handwriting was somehow even harder to read than usual and sentences often tapered off with no ending. There were whole passages scribbled out so violently his pen had ripped the paper in places. There were crude drawings of brains and dark rain clouds in the margins. 

Spencer, 

I am so sorry you are going through this and that no one can give you the answers you seek. But this isn’t the end for you, even if it is schizophrenia, you can still live a full and normal life. 

If you'll just hold on for one more second, if you just hold on to what you have, you will wake up tomorrow. Behind every rain cloud lies the sun. As Victor Hugo said in Les Miserables -

“Even the darkest night will end and the sun will rise.” 

In his next few letters he seemed to be getting better, his headaches slowly dissipating until they only hassled him every once in a while. Things seemed to be looking up for him. 

But then one of his best friends died. 

His detailed letter told you all about Ian Doyle and Emily’s history with him and went on to conclude how she died on the operating table. 

I’ve been through a lot of trauma in my life, lost a lot of people close to me but never like this. I’ve never had to bury someone I love and honestly I don’t know how to move past this. 

My initial reaction has been dilaudid. It's the only thing I can think of to take the pain away. 

Tell me not to do it, Y/N, please. Please tell me that this grief will get better and that using drugs again is not the answer. Please help me stay clean. 

"When someone you love dies, and you're not expecting it, you don't lose her all at once; you lose her in pieces over a long time — the way the mail stops coming, and her scent fades from the pillows and even from the clothes in her closet and drawers.” John Irving - A Prayer for Owen Meany

It took you longer than it should have done to formulate a reply. You felt pressured, like his sobriety hung in your hands. You hated that his friend had died but you didn’t think it was fair of him to put this on you. And you told him such.

Spencer,

I am sorry to hear about Emily, I know how close the two of you were. I’m no expert on grief, I can’t tell you how to deal with this.

You know full well that using dilaudid again is a bad idea, you really don’t need me to tell you that. Honestly, I’m a little frustrated at you for putting this on my shoulders. 

I am always here to help Spencer, in any way I can but sometimes I think you expect too much from me. We’ve been trading letters back and forth for the better part of five years and I don’t think you’ve ever really asked me about myself aside from those first initial letters.

And it’s fine, you needed this friendship more than I did. But over time this has started to feel so one sided and I don’t always look forward to your letters as much as I once did. 

I realise this is not the best time for me to be saying these things but I can’t hold back any longer. I’m glad I can be someone you can turn to but I have my own life, my own issues and I have no one to talk to about them. 

You put too much pressure on me Spencer and it’s a lot to take. I’ve tried to help shoulder your misery all these years but it’s starting to bring me down. All I can say is you need to wake up, you've gotta believe; you can't give up. Time keeps going on without us, long after we're dead and gone.

And you finished it with a simple quote from After You by Jojo Moyes.

“No journey out of grief was straightforward. There would be good days and bad days.” 

It was no surprise to you that you didn’t receive a reply. 

***

Y/N,

It’s been two years and I’m sorry for that. Two years, one month and eleven days. The truth is your last letter was hard for me to read as you can probably understand. 

The hardest part of reading it was the fact that I knew you were right. I’ve been selfish all these years. I’ve treated you like a sounding board for my problems and never once asked how you were. 

It's taken me time to write this because I wanted to get to a better place before I responded. I was angry at first, I felt like I was being abandoned again and my anger would not have been conducive. 

Then I was hurt, hurt that the one person I thought would always be there for me had turned their back on me. I displaced my grief over Emily’s death onto you and anything I would have written in that time would have only been the rage fuelled epitaph of a grieving man. 

And then once I dealt with those emotions, life simply got away from me. Emily was alive and well, her death was faked to get Doyle off of her back. Again I was angry about being lied to by my friends but eventually I was just happy she was alive. 

Then I turned thirty and had a crisis of faith I suppose. I guess with my intellect I always assumed I would be doing something more with my life and turning thirty kind of threw me through a loop. 

We had some changes to the team, new agents coming and going. All in all things have been somewhat hectic. 

But that’s not why I’m writing. 

I am writing because I really do want to know everything about you. I want you to be able to open up to me the way I always have to you. I want to be your shoulder, your repreve. I really hope I haven’t completely blown our friendship and I hope to be the kind of person who you can talk to. 

These arms remain stretched out to you and maybe someday you'll accept them. Maybe it's too late to save a young girl's heart that's long stopped beating. But I hope that it isn’t. 

“You have been in every way all that anyone could be…if anybody could have saved me it would have been you.” Jennifer Niven - All the Bright Places. 

You wanted to tell him it was too little too late, that after two years of silence you weren’t interested anymore. 

You wanted to simply not reply, ignore him entirely like he’d done to you. 

But you couldn’t. And so you replied. 

It was your longest letter to date, depicting in great detail how he’d made you feel over the years and all the hardships you’d faced without having someone to vent to. 

But getting to write it all down had been purifying, and by the time you were finished you weren’t mad anymore. 

I am willing to give this another shot, but things have to be different. If we’re to continue this friendship then it has to be a two way street. 

But I can’t pretend that I haven’t missed your letters because I have. I see pieces of you between the words, parts of yourself I’m not sure you realise you leave on the page. 

I’ve painted a picture of you in my mind's eye and even after two years with no letters, I’ve carried that picture with me wherever I go. 

I feel like I somehow know you better than I know myself and I hope going forward you can start to know me the same way. Charlotte Bronte once said -

“Every atom of your flesh is as dear to me as my own: in pain and sickness it would still be dear.” - Jane Eyre. 

***

Spencer didn’t know how it happened, he only knew that it had happened. Over the course of all the years writing to you it was almost a surprise it hadn’t happened sooner. Or maybe it had and he just didn’t realise until now. 

Spencer Reid had fallen in love with the woman who wrote her prose to him. 

It had been ten years of letters, every single one of which he kept in their envelopes in date order in the bottom drawer of his desk at home. 

Those letters were his lifelines on bad days, the one thing that kept him tethered. He didn’t even know what you looked like, even what you sounded like but he loved you. He loved you with every fibre of his being. 

And he couldn’t stop himself from telling you exactly what you meant to him. Even if it inevitably destroyed what the two of you had, he couldn’t stop the words from flying across the page. 

So that’s pretty much everything that’s happened these past few weeks. Mom’s doing ok but obviously it's a huge adjustment for her and I’m not entirely sure how long I can keep her living with me but for now it works.

How did the interview go? I have absolutely no doubts that you blew them all away with your presentation, you’re a hard person not to fall in love with.

Your presence in my life has brightened my every waking minute. You once told me that behind every rain cloud lies the sun; you are the sun behind my clouds. Your letters bring me back to life, your handwriting penned onto my soul. 

Is it foolish of me to be in love with someone I have never laid eyes on? William Makepeace Thackery said in Vanity Fair -

“It is better to have loved wisely, no doubt: but to love foolishly is better than not to be able to love at all.” 

I suppose that’s as good of an answer as any. 

***

Five days after he penned his love confession, he was arrested in Mexico. Once all the drugs had left his system, only after he was extradited and arraigned and placed at Milburn was he able to dwell on the fact he never received your reply. 

And being trapped in a cell gave him way too much time to think about that. 

It was possible you had replied, maybe even just to tell him he was crazy to even think he could be in love with someone he had never met. But he was sure you wouldn’t have even bothered to respond, thinking him a lunatic you needed to cut ties with. 

After a month in prison on one of JJ’s visits she brought a letter with her which she had found in his apartment. She recognised the handwriting on the envelope from several she’d seen him reading over the years. 

She wasn’t allowed to give him the letter but she offered to read it to him. At first he’d declined because he had no idea what to expect from your reply but after several long minutes he’d decided to let JJ read it to him. 

Spencer,

I am pleased to hear your mom is doing well but I do think you know that this solution won’t work in the long run. You say you live in a one bedroom apartment? You and I both know that you can’t sustain having your mother live there permanently. But I know you and I know you will figure out what’s best for you both.

The interview was amazing and they offered me the job on the spot. If it wasn’t for all your help with the presentation there is no way I would have gotten it, so thank you so much for that. 

As for the other thing…

For some time now I have been wondering about feelings I didn’t understand. You’ve been such a large part of my life for so long and even though we’ve never met I feel like we have, if that makes sense? I feel like in my heart I know you. My heart knows your heart.

Falling for you was as inevitable as the sun rising each morning. Perhaps it is foolish but I believe Thackeray knew what he was talking about. And I also believe Emily Bronte was talking about me and you when she said, “Whatever our souls are made of, his and mine are the same.” 

Spencer had interrupted JJ then, when she was smiling from ear to ear as she read your words out loud. 

“That’s enough.” He cut her off, burying his head in his hands.

“Wow, Spence, I had no idea you’d met someone.” 

“I haven’t met anyone. She is simply a woman at the other end of a series of letters.” 

“How long?” JJ placed the pages down in front of her.

Spencer looked up at her, a small blush on his cheeks. He didn't want to be talking about this, least of all on the other side of a plexiglass screen with his other inmates nearby but he responded all the same.

“Ten years.” He shrugged. 

“Ten years?” JJ sounded incredulous. “Ten years of letters and you’ve never met? Why?”

“I, uh, it never really came up.” It wasn’t a lie, you’d never once discussed meeting in all those years. 

“Is it like a distance thing? Does she live far away?” 

“No,” He sighed with a shake of his head. “She’s in New York.” 

“New York!” She huffed. “New York is a five hour train journey, Spence!” 

“Jennifer, now is really not the time for this.” He lowered his voice as JJ’s had garnered eyes in their direction. “There is really no point in discussing this as we have no idea when or even if I’m going to get out of here.” 

“Don’t say that.” She shook her head.

“It’s true.” He shrugged sadly. “I really can’t think about all this right now, ok? Just take the letter back to my apartment and pretend you didn’t see it. Please?” 

If it weren’t for the desperation in his eyes she might have argued it. But she didn’t want to waste what little time she got to spend with Spencer fighting.

“Ok.” She relented with a small roll of her eyes.

“Thank you, JJ.” He offered a tight lipped smile. “How are the boys?” 

JJ filled him in but she wasn’t really focused anymore. In her head, she was already penning a letter of her own…

Y/N,

My name is Jennifer Jareau, JJ, and I work with Spencer at the BAU. I’m not sure if he’s mentioned me to you or not. He hasn’t really told me too much about you if I’m honest. But I have learned that he has strong feelings for you and you for him. I’m wondering if I can make a suggestion…

***

When you received the strange letter from Spencer’s friend JJ in response to yours, you’d been initially extremely confused as to why he was letting his teammates read your secret correspondence. 

But when she’d gone on to tell you that Spencer had been arrested along with all the details surrounding his incarceration and how she’d read your letter to him during their visitation, you started to understand. 

But then a few days later, before you had a chance to reply to her, you received another letter from Spencer with a postmark from Milburn Correctional Facility.

Y/N,

Maybe Thackeray and Bronte were right or maybe they were wrong, I can’t say for sure. What I can say with certainty is that I can’t carry on like this a moment longer.

Something has happened to me, it won’t be hard for you to figure out what as soon as you see the postmark. I am not willing to get into it or explain how I ended up here. But I have no idea how long I am going to be inside and I don’t want the rest of our communication to be sent through a string of guards who will pick apart each tormented sentence. 

I ask you not to write me back. This has to be the end of the road my dear. This letter has to be our last. I don’t know how much longer I will continue to be able to live like this. Each day my hope dies a little more and I’m sure I won’t make it out of here alive. 

I am writing simply to say thank you. Thank you for all your years of listening, for all your patience and kind words and your hopeful prose. In my darkest hours you have shown me the light, dragged me out of the shadows of my own creation. 

I love you for all that you are and all that you have done but even you can’t save me this time. This really might be the end for me and I don’t want you to blame yourself. You are the only reason I made it this far in this treacherous game we call life. 

Take care of yourself, continue to live your absolute best life. And in time I pray that you forget me and are able to love someone far more tangible. 

All that is left to say can be summed up by a quote from The Miniaturist - 

“You are the sunlight through a window, which I stand in, warmed. My darling.” Jessie Burton.

You replied firstly to Spencer, his heartbreaking words more pressing than JJ’s letter. You kept it short and to the point, knowing that various other prison guards would read it before it even made it to his hands. 

I appreciate but can't accept this thank you note that's sealed with your last breath and I won't stand aside and listen to you give up. 

You are stronger than that Spencer Reid and if I know anything about your team from all the years of hearing you speak of them it’s that they are the best at what they do and they will prove your innocence. 

Just remember what Ernest Hemmingway said in A Farewell to Arms -

“The world breaks everyone and afterward many are stronger at the broken places.” 

You will be stronger at those broken places, Spencer, I have no doubt about it. 

And besides, if you don’t make it out of there, how do you  propose to ever meet me? 

Whilst on a role, you grabbed a clean sheet of paper and started scrawling again. 

Jennifer,

Thank you for your letter. I have spent some time musing on your suggestion and I think you might be right. 

I think it's time for me to take a trip to DC…

***

Spencer never opened your last letter because he had no intention of replying to it. If he didn’t read it, he could pretend you had never sent it and he wouldn’t be tempted to write a response. 

Instead he stuffed it between the pages of his book and tried not to think about it. 

After two and half months his team proved his innocence and he was released but he was thrown into the deep end of trying to find his mother. 

And even once he found her unscathed, he was rapidly thrust right into Scratch’s web after he kidnapped Emily. 

Taking the elevator back up to the BAU alongside JJ after they’d escorted Emily to the hospital it already felt like a lifetime had passed since he left prison. And all he wanted to do was chronicle all of it to you. 

Maybe once the dust settled, once he’d wrapped his head around everything that happened he would open your letter and send you a reply. 

But for the first time in ten years, Spencer didn’t want to drag you into his mess. 

JJ was strangely quiet as the elevator made its ascent. He didn’t even want to be here, he’d planned on going straight home after leaving the hospital. He hadn’t slept in his own bed for two and a half months and he couldn’t wait to collapse into it. 

But JJ had insisted that instead of him getting the metro home, if he popped back to the BAU with her to collect some paperwork, she would drive him home. 

And honestly he was just too exhausted to decline. 

JJ’s eyes were hyper focused on the digital floor numbers as they got higher. A few seconds after it displayed number five, one floor below the BAU, she turned and looked at him. 

“Don’t hate me for this.” She blurted out. 

“Excuse me?” Spencer frowned, too tired to try to understand what she meant. 

“I couldn’t just let it go.” She shrugged, a guilty smile on her lips. 

“Let what go?” His frown deepened. 

Her eyes flicked back upwards as the number five rolled into the number six and the elevator started to judder as it prepared to stop. 

“Just remember I love you and that’s the only reason I interfered.” She shrugged as the elevator stopped entirely and soon the doors were peeling open. 

Spencer looked away from her and out of the open doors to where someone was standing just a few feet back. 

Spencer’s eyes landed on the stranger only it wasn’t a stranger. He wasn’t sure how, but he knew exactly who this person was standing on the BAU floor. 

He remembered the way JJ had read him your letter and how you’d told him your heart knows his heart. 

Well his heart knew yours too. And he knew the heart beating a few feet away from him was yours. 

“Y/N?” He croaked, slowly stepping out of the elevator but not too close to you. 

“Spencer?” You smiled at him, the kind that reached all the way to your eyes. 

Neither of you noticed JJ slipping quietly away, wanting to give you some privacy. 

“What are you doing here?” His brows were furrowed and he was rolling his bottom lip between his teeth. 

“You’re friend JJ wrote to me. She told me everything that happened to you. And she made me realise that ten years is too long to wait for a first meeting.” Your voice was like honey to Spencer’s ears. 

Your prose was beautiful, but hearing the words from your lips as you stood in front of him in all your ethereal glory was more than any letter could convey. 

“I…I am actually speechless.” He chuckled, scratching the back of his neck. 

“You? Speechless?” You giggled and Spencer felt the sound all the way to his heart. 

“You’ll come to learn I am much more of a wordsmith on paper. In person I am incredibly awkward and often trip over my words. I ramble when I’m nervous or clam up entirely, no in between. I spout facts and statistics rather than have a meaningful conversation. I am much more comfortable writing my words down on paper than speaking them out loud.” He let the words spill out of his mouth, proving his point entirely. 

“I’ve waited ten years to hear your voice. Please never stop talking.” You smiled so brightly at him he felt like he was floating. 

You were here in front of him, not just hidden between pages of letters. You were real, tangible; within his reach. 

And suddenly the last thing Spencer wanted to do was talk. 

He took a few tentative steps towards you and cautiously raised a hand to your cheek. You sighed in content when he cupped your face and nuzzled against his palm. 

“I could talk to you about anything and everything all day long, my love.” He smiled, inching his face closer to yours. “But at this moment in time I have one slightly more pressing desire to do with my mouth rather than speak.” 

“Oh yeah?” You wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him closer. 

The warmth of your body and your smile encompassed him. As he looked into your eyes, finally looked into your eyes, every bad thing that had ever happened to him slipped away. 

“Love starts as a feeling, but to continue is a choice. And I find myself choosing you, more and more every day.” He quoted Justin Wetch’s Bending the Universe. 

“Spence?” 

“Yes Y/N?” 

“As sweet as that is, I thought there were more pressing desires to use your mouth for?” 

“If you insist.” He smiled and quickly closed the small space between you.

When his lips finally met yours it felt like all the pieces of the universe were falling into place. 

For ten long years you’d communicated in the pages of letters, constructing replies to what felt like one sided conversations that were confined to only live on paper. 

As the kiss deepened every single one of those words seemed to float in the air around you, spiralling like a tornado made of a decade worth of missives. 

He swore he could hear each and every word whispered to him in the voice he’d longed to hear all these years as he kissed you like you were the most important being on the face of the earth. 

And when he pulled back and mumbled I love you against your lips, it was the easiest reply you’d ever given. 

[mysterious-moonstruck-musings]

Closed Position: Week 2 (Foxtrot)

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 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 Dancing with the Stars 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: 15.7k

👉 Warnings: Themes dealing with intimate partner violence, 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.

Week 2 Quote:   “What’s wrong, do I have too many buttons open or something?”

Katarina’s POV Our first week of rehearsal had gone well after the initial awkwardness dissipated. I admit, I was extremely nervous about how our introduction was going to go and didn’t really know how to handle it. I had hoped Dieter and I would get a chance to talk before filming, but that didn’t happen. I was surprised by how effortlessly he pretended it was our first-time meeting, like we hadn’t had a somewhat confrontational interaction the day before. He had put on a good show, but I could still sense the tension rolling off him as we did our quick filming session. 

I knew that we needed to discuss what happened, so as soon as we were alone, I bit the bullet and brought it up to get it out of the way. I apologized for my behavior. I had to because the things that I had said to him were eating away at my conscience. My reaction wasn’t fair to him. Was he part of the problem? Yes. However, he wasn’t the cause. He was dropped in the middle of the situation just as much as I had been. He wasn’t intentionally trying to cause trouble between me and Alec. It was Stacia and Joe who were hoping that something would develop from their plotting. Dieter was just doing as he was told.

I could tell by the look on Dieter’s face that what I said had hurt him. I had a feeling that he didn’t believe me when I said I didn’t mean it. I hadn’t intended to tell him about my father, but at that moment I felt like he needed to hear it. I wanted him to know that I was sorry and that I wasn’t like everyone else who had been doubting him. He was willing to be open with me about his sobriety, so I felt like I needed to share something personal with him as well. We were going to be partners after all. That meant we needed to learn to communicate effectively and trust each other. Starting out the way we had would’ve caused us to fall apart quickly if we didn’t right it as soon as possible.  

Dieter seemed to accept my apology and appreciate what I shared about my father. He relaxed almost immediately, which led into a teasing banter between the two of us. He ended up being nothing like I expected. He was very respectful and put in a lot of effort to learn everything I was teaching him. I had a feeling he would be a decent dancer, but I was surprised at how quickly he was picking things up and how good he was in executing the moves. For the first time in a long time, I felt like I might actually have a shot to make it to finals. I just had to make sure I stayed on top of my game to help him get there. I also had to make sure I didn’t allow myself to be attracted to the man. 

The thought of finding Dieter attractive never crossed my mind when I was told he would be my partner. I had seen pictures of him before rehab and he usually looked like a mess. However, I had to admit that the man did clean up nicely. His sweet temperament and eagerness to learn didn’t help the situation. His puppy dog eyes and golden-retriever energy made it hard to not like him. There were times when his large brown orbs would look up at me through his lashes because he was unsure about something, and it would literally take my breath away. After spending up to seven hours with him every day last week to go over the basics of ballroom dance, I couldn’t deny that I found him to be alluring. 

I found myself brushing thoughts of Dieter aside often. I couldn’t allow myself to think about him like that because I had Alec. Though, Alec did have me in a constant state of frustration that left me questioning our relationship. He had been even more insufferable since I started working with Dieter, becoming more possessive than he normally was while also being less forthcoming than normal about how things were going with his own dance partner. I couldn’t help the distrust that I still felt toward him. I had a feeling this season of the show was going to be our final test. It was either going to strengthen our relationship or break it. The way it stood after the first week, the tighter he tried to hold on, the further away he was pushing me. It was adding a lot of stress to my personal life, which was quickly causing my time with Dieter to turn into an escape and that concerned me.  

We were now into Monday of week two. The week that things really started kicking off for our grueling schedule. The agenda for this particular Monday was fairly light, physically, since Mondays would normally be a live show day. Instead of the show, we were shooting promo material, which meant all the dance couples had photoshoot sessions lined up. Dieter and I were scheduled for 11 AM, but we still had to go in early for hair and makeup. The entire cast is required to use the show’s hair and makeup team which is set up in a large room inside Television City Studios. There are stations lining the perimeter of the room, each having a large mirror surrounded by lights, a counter stocked with all the needed utensils and products, and a barber chair. 

Dieter and I both arrived around the same time and grabbed some terrible coffee from Craft Services to get us through the morning, making small talk as we headed toward hair and makeup. As soon as we entered the room, we were whisked off to stations on opposite sides of the space. He was seated directly behind me, which meant we could see each other in the mirrors. It was hard not to stare, given he was right in my line of sight. I quickly noticed him doing the same thing. When our eyes would meet in the reflection, he would often give me an exasperated look as the hair stylist struggled with his tresses, then smile. I smiled back as I watched them tame his unruly curls into a more sophisticated style. They had gelled it back, but left a hint of curl to it. I couldn’t help thinking how handsome he looked as I watched him stand and head toward the wardrobe department.

Once my ridiculous amount of makeup was applied and my hair styled into an elegant low bun with sparkly diamond-like accessories, I made my way to the wardrobe department as well. They confirmed that Dieter was my partner before going to pull a couple of dress options that would coordinate with what they had put him in. I could hear Dieter laughing loudly in the back near the fitting area as one of the tailors, who I didn’t know, came to the front and told the costume coordinator behind the desk to update Dieter’s measurements because his shoulders were too broad for what they had put him in, causing him to pop a button off the shirt already. A look passed between the two women that said they were clearly smitten with the actor. I figured he probably charmed them as soon as he walked into the room. I had already noticed that he had a way of doing that. 

As one of the costumers led me back to the changing rooms, I passed by Dieter standing in front of a mirror, bare chested as the tailor from earlier handed him another black button up shirt to try. He gave me a cheesy smile, “I’m already causing trouble. I’ve busted out of my shirt.” Fucking hell, he looks good. I was taken off guard by the sight of him, and his comment. The best I could manage was a quiet chuckle as I continued toward my destination. His broad shoulders, toned chest, and sculpted arms were now seared into my brain. He had a slim waist but was a little soft around the middle. I found it to be more attractive than Alec’s overly chiseled abs. Yeah, I’m definitely going to hell. I felt hot and flustered suddenly as I took the black and silver Latin style dress from the costumer to try on and made my way into a changing room.  

After I was dressed, I walked out to the fitting area so the tailor could look over my attire. Dieter was now fully dressed but had left several of the top buttons on his shirt open and rolled the sleeves up - which wasn’t unusual for the guys on the show. However, I was finding those small areas of exposed flesh to be incredibly distracting. It was ridiculous because it wasn’t like I hadn’t seen his forearms during rehearsals when he wore t-shirts. I had to force myself to look away from his reflection as he stood nearby chatting with the tailor about the fit of the shirt in the shoulders. I almost snorted as she recommended he continue to leave several buttons open to give him room to move freely. He didn’t say anything in response, but I did notice a slight upward twitch of his left eyebrow. A small smirk formed on his lips as the tailor smiled up at him. Smooth. I can respect her game. I looked away quickly as his eyes briefly wandered over toward me. 

Once the tailor stopped fawning over Dieter, she moved to stand in front of me, eyes roaming over me to check the fit of the dress. She reached to tug at the fabric around my breast, pulling it tighter and adjusting the straps. I rolled my head back and chanced a glance in Dieter’s direction to find him watching with a furrowed brow. The tailor backed away, “Do you want sticky inserts or do you want me to pin it back?”

I sighed, “Inserts are fine if that’ll work.” She nodded before disappearing to the back. Dieter cleared his throat, his face now looking slightly flushed, “I’ll uhhh, wait for you up front.” I gave him a tight smile as I tried not to laugh at his embarrassment over watching the tailor grope at me. After doing this for 13 years, I was used to it. A few minutes later, the tailor, who I later learned was named Amy, returned with a new set of stick-on bra cups. Luckily that helped solve my issue and she sent me on my way so that we could get to the photographer on time. 

As I emerged into the front waiting area, Dieter gave me a mischievous smirk, “Did you get everything sorted out.”

I looked down at my chest, cupped both breasts in my hands briefly before looking back up at him with a blank expression, “Yeah, I think so. They aren’t popping out now.” His eyes widened before he burst out laughing. That hadn’t been the response he was expecting. I chuckled as I turned him to face the exit and pushed him toward it. 

When we walked into the room where the photographer was set up, my eyes were drawn to Alec and Lana being photographed. They were full of giggles and smiles as they posed for their promo shots. They weren’t doing anything inappropriate, but there was something about the way they kept glancing at each other that made my stomach churn. I’m being such a fucking hypocrite right now. I had literally been devouring Dieter with my eyes a few minutes prior, so it wasn’t like I had room to speak. Then again, I wasn’t the one who had a history of cheating either. I felt Dieter lean in next to me, “Hey, you ok?” 

Snapping out of the glare I was surely throwing their way, I glanced up at Dieter, “Yeah, I’m good.” I gave him a tight smile which didn’t seem too convincing. He looked back toward Alec and Lana, his face shifting as he studied them. I wondered if he could see what I saw between them. There was definitely chemistry there. A moment later, I felt his hand on my shoulder as he gave it a small reassuring squeeze. It seemed like he was trying to communicate something without words, but I didn’t know what to make of it. 

Alec and Lana were finished soon after our arrival. Alec seemed surprised to see us once he finally looked in my direction. He made a beeline toward Dieter and I, wrapping his arms around my waist and kissing me on the cheek, “Hey baby, you look good.” 

I gave him a confused smile. He wasn’t usually this touchy while we were in work mode. He glanced over at Dieter and reached his hand out to introduce himself as my “soon to be husband”. Oh…it’s because of Dieter. He’s getting territorial. For fucks sake. Dieter didn’t skip a beat, immediately turning on that Bravo charm. Alec didn’t seem to buy it, but that didn’t stop him from making small talk as he sized Dieter up. The two men were of similar height, but Dieter was much broader and thick, while Alec was leaner and more sculpted. There was no contest there. 

In my periphery, I noticed Lana giving me the stink eye from the other side of the room. Well, that tells me all I need to know about her. I awkwardly moved to extract myself from Alec’s hold, noting that the photographer was ready for us. As we listened to the photographer’s instructions, I could tell Dieter’s energy was off. I glanced back in the direction we had come from, realizing Alec was still standing there with his arms crossed over his chest. His intimidating gaze now focused on us. The photographer politely suggested a few poses for us, we complied but I could tell Dieter was hesitating when it came to touching me.

After Alec left the room, the energy shifted. Both of us eventually relaxing enough to have fun with it as I instructed him into several less intimate dance poses. We spent a lot of time laughing over his failed attempts. Once our hour was up, the photographer seemed happy with the shots he had taken. Even commenting that we had been one of the more fun couples that he had worked with so far. Dieter took the credit for that, citing that he was just a fun guy to be around. I couldn’t help but to roll my eyes at him. At that point, we were finished for the day. We quickly got changed and said our goodbyes so we could go home to rest and prepare for what was to come. 

Tuesdays started with production meetings. Today we would be having our first one to go over the details of our routine - the dance, costumes, and music. I always hated these meetings and felt like it was something that could have been given to us in writing. However, I suspected these meetings served another purpose. It was an opportunity for Stacia and Joe to see how the dancers and celebrities were getting along. A chance for them to learn about our relationships and see where they could throw the gasoline next. Knowing that was most likely the real reasoning caused my frustrations to grow. It made me feel anxious in a way that had never been an issue in the past because I knew they were looking to manipulate us in any way they could. I knew I would need to be vigilant and make sure we were not playing into their games. 

I had debated warning Dieter about Stacia and Joe and was still considering it while I ate my breakfast. As I was finishing up, my phone pinged with multiple texts from Alec with an absurd number of questions about my schedule for the week. I let out a controlled breath as I read through them - rolling my eyes before throwing my phone down on the counter without responding. I didn’t have time for that, nor did I want to deal with it. Instead, I moved toward the bathroom to shower and get ready for my day. 

Dieter’s POV My Tuesday had a ridiculously early start. My upcoming schedule was so packed my assistant had to work hard to squeeze in appointments with my therapist wherever he could. So that’s how I ended up in Dr. Smith’s office at 7 AM. Of course, the topic of the day was how things were going with my dance partner and rehearsals. Dr. Smith seemed to zero in on the topic of feelings when I made a comment about how weird it was being so physically close to someone for so long - that it almost felt inappropriate and uncomfortable at times. She immediately asked me to expand on that. After a few minutes of struggling to put it into words, she finally spoke up to share her thoughts. 

“Dieter, we’ve talked about your aversion to intimacy before. I think that’s where this is coming from. I don’t know much about ballroom dancing, but I do know it involves a lot of intimacy and you are not used to that.” 

 I shook my head, “But it’s not like that…it’s not sexual.” Not physically anyway…my thoughts are another story. 

She chuckled, “Intimacy isn’t just sexual. You can have intimacy with friends and family too. It can be emotional, intellectual, creative…there are so many ways to connect with someone that doesn’t involve sex. It’s something that quite frankly, you’ve been starved of and avoided most of your life. So, I can see why it would make you uncomfortable and why you would have the urge to shy away from it.” 

I snorted and spoke before I realized what I was doing, “But I don’t wanna…” Fuck. I caught myself too late.

Her brow furrowed, “You don’t want to what?” 

I sighed, “I don’t wanna shy away from it. I actually enjoy being around Kat. It’s just a little…intense, I guess. It makes me feel anxious and something else…that I don’t really know how to explain.”

Dr. Smith tilted her head slightly as she took in my words, “Dieter, are you attracted to her?” 

Yes. “No…I mean she’s nice looking. I can’t deny that, but she has a fiancée. It’s just…s-she treats me…like a person. She doesn’t look at me and see a fuck up. She’s giving me a chance and not just automatically assuming that I’m gonna fall back into old habits. You know what I mean?”

Dr. Smith nodded, “So, you’re developing a relationship with her that isn’t based on sex or favors.” 

I rubbed at the deep crease between my brows, “Yeah, I guess so. I suppose it’s probably the closest thing that I’ve had to an actual friendship in a long time…but I mean, it’s only been a week. So, I’m not even sure if I can call it that…but it does feel like more than just working together if that makes sense? We laugh, we joke, we vibe. I guess it does feel like we have some type of connection….and…I find myself wanting to…please her?” I cringed as soon as the words left my mouth, “NO! Not that. Umm, I guess…do a good job is what I mean. I don’t wanna let her down.” 

We stared at each other for a beat, Dr. Smith had a thoughtful look on face as she digested my words. “Dieter…this might be a good thing for you. I want you to work on being open with her. Develop the friendship between the two of you. I think it would be good practice for you, emotionally, to connect with someone in that way. It sounds like she’s willing to build a friendship with you and give you the benefit of the doubt. I know you’ve been seeking that…and it would be good for you to have a friend that’s supportive of your recovery. You don’t have a lot of that right now…and it’s important.”

This is a bad fucking idea. “Ok…yeah. I’ll try.” 

I left that therapy session feeling more on edge than I did before I had gone in. I was feeling a lot of conflict and confusion about my feelings toward Kat, which was ridiculous because I hadn’t known her for that long. Sure, I thought she was physically attractive and normally that alone would’ve been enough for me to pursue her for sex. Aside from the fact that she was taken, I actually didn’t want to ruin what we were potentially building for a quick roll in the sack. I wanted more. I enjoyed spending time with her, and she made me want to be better. I found myself wondering what it would be like to spend time with her outside of the dance studio - doing something as simple as getting lunch or stopping into a bookstore to find a book together that we could discuss after reading. I had never wanted something like that with someone. It was both scary and exciting. 

I soon found myself parking outside Television City Studios for our first production meeting. I now had a fluttering in my stomach that was almost foreign. As I sat rolling up the sleeves of my dress shirt, I decided it was nerves related to the impending live show in less than a week's time. The production meeting made it feel more real and imminent. 

Walking into the main entrance, I spotted Kat waiting in the lobby. Her eyes locked on me as I approached. She had an odd expression, her eyes seeming to roam over me before she met my gaze with a smirk on her face.

“What’s wrong, do I have too many buttons open or something?” I asked, jokingly.

She laughed nervously as she shook her head, “No. Your buttons are open just the right amount…That shade of blue looks really good on you.”   

I smiled as my face heated from the compliment. I leaned my head downward and swiped my thumb across my bottom lip before glancing back up at her. Is she blushing? She looks flushed. 

She cleared her throat, “Umm…before we get called in there, I wanted to warn you about Stacia and Joe. They like to…try and…”

I smirked, thinking back to my first interaction with them, “Create drama?” 

Kat huffed out a laugh, “Yeah…that. I have a feeling they’re gonna try and manipulate things with us and with Alec and Lana. It’s all about ratings with them.” 

I nodded, “I picked up on that during our first meeting. I figured. Don’t worry about it. I’m not gonna play into whatever it is they’re trying to do.” 

She had a sad smile on her face now, “Thank you. I appreciate that. At least two of us are on the same page.” 

Two? What does that mean? I opened my mouth to ask but was interrupted by a production assistant who was sent to lead us to the meeting space.

Once we entered the conference room, we were greeted with a smiling Stacia and Joe. Kat and I took our seats on the opposite side of the table from them, careful not to sit too closely together. I could tell they were studying us as soon as we walked through the door, looking for their angle. Stacia spoke first, “So, how is everything going with you two? Did you have a good first week of rehearsals?” 

Kat and I gave each other a knowing look before I responded. “It’s been going good. Kat is a great teacher…I seem to be picking things up quickly.”  

Stacia and Joe stared at me for a moment. Stacia’s brow arched slightly, like she was waiting for me to say more. When I didn’t, she finally smiled, “Well…that’s good to hear. We want to make sure you two are getting along ok.” 

Kat leaned forward and tilted her head slightly, “Is there a reason that we wouldn’t?” 

Stacia laughed and shifted nervously in her seat, “Of course not…just making conversation.” 

Well, that’s interesting. I had a feeling that Kat made Stacia uncomfortable, maybe even intimidated her some. Kat did seem to be giving off dominating vibes, which was fucking hot. Stacia cleared her throat as she pulled a couple sheets of paper out of a folder and slid them toward us. It appeared to be sketches for our costumes. They were both completely black. Kat’s gown was long and flowy with a very low back and front. 

“Your first performance will be the Foxtrot to the song Fever. You’ll be doing the behind the scenes filming on Friday this week. Do you have any objections to the costume sketches?” 

I glanced over at Kat, ready to agree with whatever she said since I wasn’t sure what she was comfortable with. 

Kat glanced down one last time, “I’m fine with them, Dieter?”   

I shrugged, “I’m good if she is.” 

We sat in an awkward silence for a beat, staring at each other. What the hell is this?

“Is there anything else?” Kat finally asked. 

Stacia nodded, “No. I guess not…unless you guys have anything to discuss?” 

Kat and I both shook our heads with confused expressions. 

Stacia eyed Kat, “Have you met Lana yet? I know she was excited to meet you.”

The energy around Kat shifted, her eyes darkened, and her jaw clenched at the question. Fuck. Please don’t react to that. “We did yesterday.” I said, speaking before I had time to think through my response. “She seemed very nice…Alec too. We had a lovely chat during the photoshoot.” I forced a smile and hoped it didn’t look fake. We need to get out of here. “Well, it was nice seeing you two again. We need to get to the dance studio to start working on our routine. I need all the practice I can get.”  

I looked over at Kat, who was giving me a grateful smile as she moved toward the door. We said our goodbyes as we exited the room, walking in silence until we reached the lobby. Kat turned to look at me, her brows furrowed as she chewed on her bottom lip.

“What the fuck was that?” I asked, completely confused by the interaction. 

“I dunno, it was bizarre. I guess they’re trying to figure out how to stir up drama between the four of us. I can guarantee it won’t be coming from either of us.”  

I arched my brows, “What do you mean?” 

She shook her head, not saying anything as she reached for her phone to check the time. “Our rehearsal space should be open soon. I’m gonna run home and grab my bag. I forgot it.”

I nodded, “Yeah…I’ll meet you there.”

That was an odd response from her. It made me wonder if something was going on with her and Alec. I could sense tension between them during the photoshoot but couldn’t exactly work out the cause of it. Whatever the reasoning, I felt like Stacia was aware of it and was actively trying to work it in her favor for ratings. That did make me sad for Kat because she didn’t deserve it.   

Kat moved to leave, but stopped, waving her phone as she turned to face me, “I guess we should probably exchange numbers…” 

“Oh, right. Of course.” I quickly typed my number into her phone. She followed up by shooting me a quick text with a waving emoji so I would have hers, then we said our goodbyes for now. 

I decided to grab an early lunch before heading to the dance studio. I briefly wondered if I should have asked Kat if she wanted anything. I was tempted to text her but didn’t want to start abusing my texting privileges already. She probably only wanted me to text if I was running late or something anyway. 

As I sat in the parking lot of the dance studio, eating my burrito, a hand smacked against the driver side window. It startled me, nearly causing me to drop my food. I hit the button to lower the glass and was met with Kat’s laughter as she moved to lean against my car. 

I sat smiling at her until her giggles finally subsided.

“Thanks for that. You were very close to cleaning the inside of my car.” 

She smiled, “I would have too, because it would’ve been my fault. I’m sorry. Totally worth it though.” 

I rolled my eyes at her, taking another bite. 

She leaned down, nearly sticking her head inside the car, “That looks good, where’s that from?”

“That Mexican place on Spring Street. I’ve got another, you want it? They’re fucking huge. No way I can eat it.”  Which was the truth. I wasn’t expecting them to be so big. She scrunched her nose, “What kind is it?” She’s too fucking adorable when she does that. 

I reached to pull the foil wrapped burrito out of the bag and held it up to her, “Cheesy steak and rice.”

She snatched it out of my hand, “If you insist. I’m never gonna turn down food.”

I laughed at her, “Good to know. Next time I’ll get your order.”

She moved to lean against the hood of my car as I got out with what was left of my burrito in one hand and my soda in the other. I leaned against the hood beside her and set my drink down between us as she started eating. A quiet moan escaped her lips causing little Bravo to involuntarily twitch in my pants. Fuck. That was hot.

“Ugh, this is so good. I’ve never been to that place. Clearly, I need to go.”

All I could muster in response was a nod. We ate in silence for a few minutes before she reached for my drink, tilting it forward and raising a brow at me as if to ask if it was ok. I nodded again and she took a quick sip before setting it back down. Once I finally got my thoughts in check, I was surprised by how at ease she seemed around me today.

Kat licked at the juices running down the side of her hand. I laughed at her and reached into the car to grab some napkins, handing them to her as she spoke, “Maybe we can start grabbing lunch on Tuesdays after our production meetings. We could get a head start discussing our routine since we have this odd break before our scheduled studio time.” 

“Yeah, I’m cool with that.” More than I should be. I was giddy at the thought of spending time with her outside of rehearsals. 

Her eyes narrowed on me as I finished up the last of my food, “So what does Dieter Bravo do in his free time?”    

I gave her a small smile as she stared at me with a soft gaze, “These days, not a whole lot. I moved into a beach house in Santa Monica about six months ago. I mostly just hole up there with my plants, music, and art supplies. I’ve pretty much had to change my whole life around since I got out of rehab.”

She had a sad smile on her lips now, nodding as she swallowed her latest bite. I had a feeling she knew what all that meant. “Plants and art supplies? So, you grow things and paint?” 

I laughed, “Yes…and I do mean houseplants. Don’t get any ideas.” 

She chuckled, “The thought didn’t even cross my mind.” She paused, rolling back the wrapping on her burrito, “It’s unexpected and cool, actually. I love art. I don’t have an artistic bone in my body, but I do love looking at other people’s work.” 

I raised a questioning eyebrow at her, “Dance is an art form…”

She rolled her eyes, “You know what I mean…painting, drawing…those kinds of things.”

I nodded, “Well, anyone can paint. So, don’t sell yourself short on that. You should give it a try. It’s a good stress reliever.” 

She shrugged, “What about the plants? Why plants?” 

I chuckled, “I don’t fucking know. That’s a fairly new obsession. I guess…I like learning about them. They all have different needs. There’s something about watching them grow and thrive from the care I’m putting into them. They also add a little extra something…makes the house homier.” I shook my head and laughed. Geez, I sound ridiculous. 

She smiled at me, “What’s wrong? Are you embarrassed by your love of plants?” 

I could feel my face heating up, “No…I mean, maybe. It’s a little weird, don’t ya think?”

She shook her head, “It’s surprising, but not weird. I kind of love it. It’s sweet.” 

Her eyes sparkled as she gave me an endearing smile, which caused knots to form in my stomach. She moved to take another drink from my soda, and I suddenly found her lips wrapping around the straw to be a little distracting. I had to force my line of sight elsewhere. 

She groaned as she stuck the last bit of the burrito in her mouth, “Ugh, I’m probably gonna regret that. Good thing we have some time to digest while we talk about our routine.” I laughed as I reached into the car to grab my bag so I could change once we got inside. 

After I got changed, Kat found our song and played it. We listened in silence while we did some basic stretches. After the song concluded, she sat quietly with her legs stretched out in front of her, thinking. She let out a controlled breath as she rubbed her hands down her face.  

“Ok, so…the foxtrot is probably one of the more difficult standard dances to learn. We haven’t gone over it yet. It requires a heel lead and gliding steps that should appear effortless and elegant. It’s a box step similar to the waltz, but the timing is different…it’s a mixture of slow steps that take up two beats and quick steps that take up one beat. It’s a slow, slow, quick, quick movement while maintaining a closed position with your partner. Let’s start with the basic steps, then we’ll start adding the flare to it.” 

I sat on the floor in front of her, listening intently, nodding along. She moved to stand, reaching out her hands to help pull me up to my feet. We spent a good amount of time working on the basic steps. She started with having me do the steps alone so she could watch my movements. It took a little longer than I would have liked to get the timing right, but I eventually caught on. Once I had it down, we assumed the closed position and began moving together. Initially her proximity was distracting, but I was able to move past it and focus on our movements. After we mastered the basics moving both forward and backwards, she added turning box steps to the mix.   

Now that I had the footwork down for the foxtrot, Kat wasted no time jumping in to craft a routine for us. I mostly watched her as she talked through ideas, occasionally stopping to work out the steps and movements on her own. She asked for input, but I didn’t feel confident enough to really have an opinion on any of it at this point. Overall, it was a light day as we worked through our plans. The afternoon flew by, and our rehearsal time was up before we knew it. 

As we were leaving, Kat warned me that we would be hitting things pretty hard for the rest of the week, so I needed to prepare myself. I laughed it off, but honestly, I was terrified. I was nervous about the increased physical contact with her. I had done well ignoring it so far, but I knew once we started getting into the routines, the contact was going to increase exponentially. It wasn’t just the fact that I found her to be incredibly attractive, but also because physical closeness was something that I never did with people that I didn’t have an active sexual relationship with. Even in those instances, it was about pleasure and nothing else. This was going to be weird for me and I was having a hard time wrapping my head around it.

When I got home that evening, I had a quick dinner then grabbed my tablet with the thought that I would look up some foxtrot videos on YouTube. I figured it might give me some ideas so I could have input on our routine since Kat insisted that she wanted me involved. I made my way out back to sit on a lounger next to the firepit - allowing the sounds of the ocean to lull me into relaxation before I went down my YouTube rabbit hole. 

I was honestly shocked at the range of routines I watched. Some were very serious and professional while others favored the more sensual side of the dance. I could feel my stomach fluttering at the thought of dancing like that with Kat. Sure, the idea was slightly arousing, but also imagining her looking at me the way these dancers were looking at each other caused my heart to skip a beat. It was a new kind of feeling that I couldn’t really find the words for. 

At some point, a video of Kat popped up from a previous season of the show. I watched it a couple of times, studying her face and the way she moved with her partner. It all felt very cold, like she was just going through the motions. She seemed focused on trying to get her partner through the routine rather than feeling the emotions of the dance. I eventually scrolled down to the ‘suggested videos’ section, finding a few of Kat and Alec from professional dance competitions that were several years old. In these, Kat was different. It was clear that she and Alec had chemistry on the dance floor. The way she moved her body was hypnotic and the way she looked at Alec was almost carnal. I couldn’t imagine her dancing like this with me. The thought of it made me dizzy and anxious. I wouldn’t be able to handle that level of emotion from her.  

Sighing, I set the tablet down on the ground beside me. I closed my eyes and leaned my head back against the lounger, trying to get that visual out of my mind. After a few minutes of contemplative silence, I sensed movement near my feet. When I opened my eyes, I was greeted by the furry intruder that refused to leave my yard. He sat for a moment, staring at me as if to ask if he could approach me. When I didn’t react, he hopped up onto my lap and meowed loudly in my face. I sighed, finally giving in to his cuteness and scratched behind his ears. He wasted no time crawling up my chest to rub his head against my beard, “Alright little dude, don’t get too excited. This isn’t gonna be a thing.” 

I couldn’t help the laugh that slipped between my lips as he started purring. This fucking cat. My arms slid around his small frame and cuddled him closer. I realized he felt a little boney under all that fur. I sighed louder this time, “I fucking knew this was gonna happen. You finally got me dude…come on.” I sat him down on the ground, grabbed my tablet, and got up to walk toward the house. He followed behind me, swishing his tail. I walked through the sliding door into the kitchen in search of something for him to eat. I found a few packets of tuna in the pantry and grabbed one. When I turned around, I was met with two green eyes staring at me from the floor. I chuckled, “Please, do come in.” I grabbed a bowl and emptied the pouch into it. He waited patiently for me to set it down in front of him - immediately digging in once I did, making little growling noises as he ate. I guess I have a fucking cat now.   

Katarina’s POV As I drove home, I took the time to reflect on my day. Stacia almost got a rise out of me this morning. I couldn’t let her do that because it would only add fuel to the flames she was trying to create. It was clear to me now that she was hoping Lana would drive a wedge between Alec and me. My fear was that it was working. I could already tell he had been more distant since rehearsals started. It wasn’t unusual given our schedules, but he would usually send texts throughout the day. I hadn’t received one from him since yesterday. I could feel the hurt creeping in. However, there was also a part of me hoping he would fuck up again because it was all beginning to be too much. I wanted to give up and I wanted out. 

Then there was Dieter. It was obvious that he sensed my unease at the mention of Lana, and he jumped in to cover for me without hesitation. He was damn near believable in his response. He and I hadn’t discussed anything related to Alec and Lana in detail, but I felt like he knew there was more to it than I had shared. I had to appreciate that he didn’t try to pry for information while also acting as the supportive dance partner. 

I don’t know what it is about Dieter, but I feel comfortable with him. Even though most people would probably call me crazy for it, I actually trust him. The realization hit me this morning after the production meeting. As I drove toward the dance studio, I made a conscious decision to build a friendship with him because I felt like he really needed it. Maybe we both did. 

When I finally got home, I quickly ate some leftovers while I waited for the bathtub to fill up. I knew I needed to start taking extra steps to keep my body happy if I was going to make it through this season. I was doing ok so far - seeming to have no pain or inflammation present in my joints. I knew that could change at any time. Especially once we really got going in rehearsals. I was already dreading the Latin dances. I knew that the knee and hip pain would start quickly with those. The foot pain would come soon enough. The dance shoes always got that going, which was why I hadn’t worn any during rehearsals yet. I had planned to limit those as much as possible. After I finished eating, I took all my daily supplements that I had forgotten that morning, then got into the tub to relax. 

I found my thoughts drifting back to Dieter, remembering how the blue color of the dress shirt he had on this morning looked amazing against his skin. Then I remembered how my attention was drawn to his exposed forearms – to his tattoos peeking out and the way the muscles flexed as he moved his hands when he spoke. As the day went on, I began having a ridiculous urge to touch his hair. That started while we were outside the studio, leaning against his car. The soft waves were gently blowing in the breeze begging to have my fingers run through them. He was so effortlessly handsome and clearly lacked the confidence to go with it, which was surprising to me. 

Then my thoughts jumped to a shirtless Dieter from the day before. I suddenly felt that familiar throb between my thighs. Fucking hell, don’t go there Kat. I was tempted to let my mind continue down that path, but I knew it would be wrong. I couldn’t entertain those thoughts, no matter how good I thought he looked. Especially if I wanted to establish a legitimate friendship with him. I sighed and dunked myself under the water for a moment, hoping that would clear my head. It didn’t. I got out of the tub and went to bed frustrated. 

I awoke to the sound of pounding on the front door. Glancing at the clock, it was close to 1 AM. I sighed and got out of bed. As I got closer to the door, I could hear Alec drunkenly rambling to let him in. I was half tempted to leave his ass out there. When I opened the door, he stumbled inside, hugging me against him and almost pulling both of us to the floor.

I pushed him off me, “Alec…what the fuck?”   

He blew his beer laden breath across my face as he spoke in a slur, “I’m sorry baby, I didn’t wanna drive home. I was at the bar up the street with the guys…I can’t find my phone.” 

“You realize we have a group rehearsal in the morning, right?” 

He waved his hand at me like it was no big deal and stumbled off toward the bedroom, collapsing on the bed, fully dressed. This was a good reminder as to why we hadn’t moved in together yet. I huffed, moving to take his shoes and clothes off while he mumbled something about wanting to fuck before fully passing out. Once I got him situated, I crawled into bed and settled in for a night of restless sleep. 

Alec woke me before my alarm went off, kissing down my neck. I admittedly was still a little worked up from the night before, so I went with it. I briefly stopped him, reaching into the nightstand for a condom. He rolled his eyes in protest as I handed it to him, but I wasn’t taking any chances. He put the condom on before flipping me over, pulling my hips up to meet him, then pulling my shorts down so he could roughly take me from behind. He didn’t last long, and I got no satisfaction from it. When he was done, he got into the shower without a word. This dismissive behavior wasn’t out of the ordinary for him, but something felt different. I felt like he was staking his claim, reminding me that I belonged to him. I suddenly hated myself for allowing it to happen like that. It made me feel dirty somehow.  

After he was showered and dressed, he gave me a quick kiss on the forehead and said he would see me at group rehearsals. I nodded, watching him as he walked out of the bedroom. He seemed off, but I couldn’t figure out why. Maybe it was just a bad hangover and everything else was all in my head. 

Wednesdays were always the worst. Every week, the professional dancers did a group performance at the start of the show. I really wished they wouldn’t do these because it just added more to our plate. Luckily the first few weeks were not as bad since we still had so many cast members to take up airtime. The burden of the extra performances would increase as more groups were voted off. Eventually, the celebrities would be added to the group performances. I wasn’t looking forward to that as we progressed through the competition. Since it was the first week, this rehearsal went fast, and it was fairly easy. Alec struggled through it, clearly hung over from the night before, but I didn’t feel bad for him.

After five hours of rehearsals with the professional cast, I had to rush to grab a late lunch. I didn’t have much time before meeting with Dieter for our late afternoon rehearsal. When I arrived at the dance studio, Dieter was there waiting. He was laying on the floor, his head propped on his bag with a tablet sitting on his chest. His eyes met mine as he smiled up at me. 

“What are you doing?” I asked through a chuckle. 

He grabbed the tablet and quickly sat up, “I hope you don’t mind…but I pulled up some videos last night to get some ideas.” 

I don’t know why this surprised me. I figured he would leave most of the choreography to me. However, I loved that he was trying. He looked a little sheepish as he asked if he could show me a couple of things. I smiled and nodded as I sat on the floor beside him, mirroring the way he was sitting, with my legs stretched out in front of me. He gave me a shy smile as he turned on his tablet, “Don’t laugh, but I made a playlist and saved them.” I didn’t laugh, but I couldn’t help smiling at him. I watched as he opened the YouTube app to the ‘home’ tab. He quickly tapped on the ‘foxtrot’ playlist, but not before I saw my name in the title of a video under the ‘watch history’ section. I could feel my heart rate pickup as he glanced over at me, fighting a shy smile. 

“Yeah, I saw that…you watching videos of me, Bravo?” I asked with a teasing tone.

He shrugged, still trying not to smile as his cheeks flushed, “I watched a lot of videos from previous seasons. You may have been in one or two of them.” 

“Mmmhmm. Right.” 

He rolled his eyes and shook his head, “Anyway…I was thinking what we have so far feels almost mechanical…if that makes sense?” He’s not wrong. Dieter glanced at me; his dark eyes rounded as he took in my expression. I think he was worried it would upset me. 

I pursed my lips, “I don’t disagree with that. Thank you for pointing it out.”

His shoulders relaxed, “Ok, good. I was afraid that would piss you off.” 

I rolled my eyes, “It takes a lot more than that to piss me off. I always want you to be open about what you’re feeling. Besides, I didn’t think it felt right either. So…what are you thinking?” 

He inhaled deeply before launching into his thoughts, “Well, I think we need to add some emotion to it to start…nothing too crazy…I’ve saved a few videos. I think if we can find a good balance in the emotion and feel of all these dances it would be perfect. I don’t mind doing a little acting with it.”  

He had picked some very good examples. The first few videos showed professional choreography infused with different dance styles. The last few included a lot of acting and storytelling with the dancers' movements and were more toward the sensual side of things. During the last few videos, I could see the tension in his face. He was worried it would bother me. It didn’t of course since this was what dancing was about. I, however, was concerned about what that meant for me emotionally. It was going to require a lot of trust and a deeper connection that I usually didn’t have with my dance partners on the show. There was also the tiny issue of me finding Dieter Bravo to be incredibly attractive. 

Once the last video ended, I glanced up at him. “You're ok with doing that kind of stuff?”  

His eyebrows shot up, “I mean, maybe not that intense. Those...are a lot… but I’m comfortable with whatever you're comfortable with.”  

I nodded, surprised of his willingness to try something different. “You know…our song has sort of a jazzy sound. Maybe we can infuse some jazz elements into it?”

Dieter’s eyes lit up at that suggestion, “I’m actually digging that idea.”

“Ok…well, this dance isn’t gonna figure itself out. Let’s get going.” I stood, “We need to make sure we stretch more going forward because it’s about to get a lot harder on our bodies. You’re probably about to hate me.” 

He looked worried as I told him to lay back flat on the floor and moved to help him with some leg stretches - leaning against him to push back on his leg first with it straight in the air then against his knee to push it into his chest. He whined and groaned through it the entire time. After completing the same steps with his other leg, I had him sit up and put his feet flat together in front of him in a butterfly pose. I took the same position in front of him, keeping his legs in place with my knees and pulled him forward by his hands. He again began whining through it. I had to appreciate that he didn’t make it awkward like most people did, but it was near impossible not to laugh at his dramatic behavior. We went through several more partner stretches, both of us trying to keep it together as his dramatics increased with each new stretch. 

By the time we were done with the stretches, Dieter was already breaking out in a sweat. He gave me the stink eye and huffed as he got up off the floor, “I’m fairly certain that could be classified as some form of torture.”  

I laughed, “Stop being a drama queen. We’ve gotta keep those hips loose or you won’t make it through the Latin dances.” 

He raised an eyebrow at me, “I have loose hips?” 

I chuckled, “Surprisingly, yes.”

He smirked, “I take it that’s a good thing?” 

I nodded, smiling back at him, “It’s good for a lot of things.” I did not just say that.

“For dancing…it’s good for a lot of different dance moves. There’s umm…a lot of hip thrusting…in Latin dances, is what I mean.” Fucking hell, Kat. Shut up. 

The longer I rambled, the bigger his smile got. I could feel the heat creeping up my neck and into my cheeks. “I’m just gonna stop there. That came out so wrong.”  

Dieter laughed, “It’s kind of cute when you're flustered.” 

I put my hands on my hips and blew a strand of hair out of my face, “Just…shut up.” He snorted, shaking his head at me as I moved to stand in the center of the room. “Alright, let’s focus and get this figured out.” 

He made his way over to me, still trying to hold in his chuckles while I ignored him and moved to stand in position. I tilted my head and arched my brows. I now had my serious face on, needing to move past that minor embarrassment. “Let’s go through what we have so far. Ok?”   

From that point on, the both of us were all business. Dieter was laser focused and I found that we collaborated well together. As the minutes ticked on, he seemed to be more comfortable expressing his thoughts about the routine, however, I could tell he was still holding back when it came to physical closeness. He would hesitate anytime he had to touch anywhere outside of my arms or waist.  

“Dieter, I really need for you to get over this physical contact phobia, ok? I’m telling you now, it’s ok to touch me while we’re dancing.” 

He squeezed his eyes shut and let out a controlled breath, “I know, I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’ll do better. I’m just trying to be respectful, and this kind of goes against all that.” 

I placed both of my hands on his cheeks and squished them together causing his plump lips to pucker slightly. His eyes popped open and focused on me in shock, “I promise, I’ll give you a warning before I throat punch you if I feel like you're being inappropriate…k.”  

I patted the side of his face with my right hand, then pulled away. His eyes rounded as he stared at me, unblinking, “Is that supposed to be comforting? Because it isn’t.” 

A small chuckle bubbled out as I took in his expression. His puppy eyes were in full effect. I both hated and loved when he looked at me like that. It made me feel things I shouldn’t be feeling. 

I smirked, “I’m joking, I won’t throat punch you, but I will smack you if I think it’s necessary.” 

His brow furrowed as he shook his head, snorting out a small laugh, “Oh… okay. That’s sooo much better.” 

Rolling my eyes at him, I moved to our starting position. 

“Alright, stop your whining. Let’s take it from the top with what we have so far.” 

Dieter nodded and stepped closer, setting his frame, and taking hold of me. He was still too far away. I tilted my head and narrowed my eyes on him, sighing as I stepped even closer to his front so that we were in a proper closed position. He gave me a tight smile before looking off to the left. I began counting our steps as we moved around the room in perfect synchronization until Dieter’s timing faltered. We kept going, but I could feel his posture changing. I glanced over at him and realized his jaw was tense. 

“Is something wrong?” I asked without stopping. 

He kept going, not looking in my direction as he said, “It appears we have an audience.” 

During a reverse turn, I glanced toward the hallway windows - instantly finding the cause of his disturbance. Alec was watching us. His piercing gaze made me feel uneasy. What is his fucking problem? 

“Just keep going and ignore him. You’re not doing anything wrong…box turn, then promenade.” 

Dieter inhaled deeply following through on those instructions before moving to lead me into an inside turn. As we reached the end of the choreography that we had so far, I glanced toward the windows. Alec was gone. 

My eyes met Dieter’s, “Let’s take a water break.”

He nodded before pulling the hem of his shirt up to wipe the sweat off his forehead. I couldn’t help the way my eyes raked over his exposed skin. I had to force myself to turn away from him as I drank from my water bottle. 

“Alec doesn’t like me, does he?” Dieter asked from behind me before taking a drink of his own water.

I casually turned to him, “He’s concerned about your womanizing ways. I guess he’s worried you're gonna steal me away from him or something.”  

Dieter smirked, “I mean, I would never do anything you didn’t want me to…”

My brows arched in surprise at his words. I absolutely can’t handle him saying shit like that to me. I could already feel the effects of his words and that devilish smirk pulsing between my thighs. 

Dieter was quick to add, “That did not come out the way I meant it…” He shook his head and laughed nervously as he raked his hair back out of his face, “I just mean…I respect you too much to do anything like that. Your friendship is important to me. I don’t wanna ruin it by being a dick…and I’m not that guy anymore. Besides, he should trust you. You’ve been nothing but professional.” 

Friendship...I actually kind of hate that word. A crease formed between my brows as I looked down at the floor, “Yeah, well…you can’t tell him that apparently. Just don’t pay any attention to him. He’s being ridiculous over nothing. I’ll tell him to knock it off.” 

“Hey.” He was standing directly in front of me now as I looked up to meet his gaze. His obsidian eyes were burning into mine, nearly taking my breath away. “If I’m doing something to make things harder on you, please tell me. I can tell this is causing tension between you two.”  

I gave him a weak smile, “The fact that you even exist is enough to bother him. You’re not doing anything, so don’t stress about it.” 

His lips were set in a tight line as he studied my face, taking in my words. He didn’t look convinced, but he nodded and dropped the subject. We continued with building our routine for the next hour. Then our studio time was up for the day. 

By the time Friday rolled around, we pretty much had our routine planned out. It was a ‘behind the scenes’ filming day, so we had to put up with the camera crew being in our space as we ran through the full routine to the music for the first time. We also had to periodically stop to film their interview questions. The questions were beyond frustrating - mostly focusing on our chemistry and how well we worked together. It was clear they were trying to drive a certain narrative and were not getting what they wanted from us. I could tell Dieter had picked up on it too based on the looks he was shooting my way. It felt like such a waste of our time. Once we got rid of the film crew, we managed to complete a few run-throughs with the music without error. We were both feeling pretty good about it. However, Dieter admitted that his nerves were starting to flare up as we got closer to show day. He looked vulnerable at that moment, and I just wanted to pull him into a hug. Instead, I settled for a quick squeeze of the hand and told him everything would be ok because we would get through it together. That seemed to calm him some. 

Dieter’s POV This week had gone by in a blur. I attributed it to enjoying the time that I was spending with Kat. She and I were working so well together. I couldn’t recall ever having such a positive or productive experience with someone in a work setting. We were both clearly more comfortable around each other now. She was quick witted with her banter and often kept me on my toes with her jokes. I loved that we had a similar sense of humor. During the more serious moments, we worked together with such intense focus that it was almost like we shared a single brain - often on the same wavelength and anticipating what the other was saying before they said it. She was very receptive to any suggestions I had and often praised me for my involvement with crafting the routine, which only made me want to do more. There was nothing more satisfying than seeing her face light up when she liked one of my suggestions.   

As the week progressed and the dancing got more intense, Kat was going heavy on stretches to start the day. While it was torture, the partner stretches were quickly becoming one of my favorite things to do. I made sure to bust out the dramatics just to make her laugh. God, I loved hearing her laugh. I also didn’t mind the close proximity that some of the stretches put us in. When she made the comment about me having “loose hips” being good for a lot of things I was a little stunned. Her descent into embarrassment afterward was so fucking adorable. It was hard not to wonder if she had thought about me like that. Was it a Freudian slip? This was a thought that kept creeping in when I would least expect it and caused me to think all sorts of inappropriate things. Especially when she would give me that look that was somewhere between teasing and flirting that made my dick twitch. The logical part of my brain kept reminding me of that big shiny rock on her finger. The wishful side hoped that she did indeed feel something for me. 

The feelings that I was having were very complicated and I wasn’t sure how to navigate them. Alec was adding a whole other layer to things with his possessiveness over Kat. The guy honestly worried me a little bit, so I was determined to be on my best behavior when it came to her no matter what my emotions said. I didn’t want to give him any reason to do something stupid, because my gut told me he was that type that would.   

Sunday was our last rehearsal for the week in the dance studio. We spent our hours fine tuning things with the music the best we could without hearing the live band’s version of the song. Kat warned me that we may have to make last minute adjustments during the dress rehearsal, which was stressing me out a little. It just gave more room for me to fuck something up once we got the live show. Kat seemed surprisingly calm about the whole thing. Then again, she had been doing this for years. Her confidence in me did help alleviate some of the anxiety I was starting to feel, but not all of it.

After rehearsals, we made our way to Television City Studios. It was spray tan day for the entire cast. This was one of the things that I was not looking forward to. Upon arrival, I made my way to my dressing room to get undressed down to my boxer briefs and threw on the robe that was provided. I followed the robe clad group toward a big open room where everyone waited their turn. I quickly found Kat scrolling through her phone in the far corner, away from the crowd. I went to wait with her since I hadn’t really met any of the other cast members yet. We stood chatting as Alec and Lana slowly walked down the hallway; eyes fixed on each other as they shared a smile. Lana reached out to hook her arm with his, but once he noticed Kat, he pulled away from her and walked toward us. Yeah asshole, I see you.  

Alec was quick to wrap himself around Kat, putting his body between us as he did so. Alright man, I get it. You think you own her. He attempted to make small talk but was coming off as an arrogant asshole as he bragged about how great of a dance teacher he was. Kat honestly looked embarrassed by him. As I stood listening, a production assistant walked by. I took the opportunity to interrupt Alec to ask the PA what sort of spray tan they were using. The PA gave me a look of annoyance, “What does it matter?” she asked with a rude tone. Damn, who pissed in your cheerios this morning. 

“It matters because I don’t want a bunch of chemicals sprayed on me. That shit can cause a disruption in cellular metabolic processes…it can be carcinogenic. Is it all natural?” I had a slight irritation to my tone.

Her brow furrowed, “You’re worried about a spray tan when you used to do coke, LSD, and who knows what else? Is this a joke?” My eyes widened at her response. Ok. That’s probably a fair question. 

I sensed Kat was about to say something, but Alec stopped her. I gave the PA a sarcastic smile, “Well, I’ve gotta live a clean life now to make up for all that damage I did. Humor me, please.”

The PA rolled her eyes, “Yes, we use an all-natural certified organic spray tan solution. So, you're safe from the carcinogens.” She said that last bit with a snippy tone. I should be used to being talked to like this by now, but it still pissed me off. 

“Thank you, that’s all you had to say.”  

I heard Alec laugh as he turned his back toward me to talk to Kat, effectively dismissing me from the conversation. I could tell Kat wanted to say something to me, but he was blocking her from doing so as he asked her if she was free tonight. 

Another PA with a clipboard approached me at that point to let me know it was my turn. I gave Kat a tight smile as I was led into the large room that was set up with individual pop-up privacy tents for cast members to step into to remove their robes and get sprayed. 

Once I was finished, I went directly to my dressing room. My good mood had been soured by the PA’s comment and Alec being a jackass. I sat down in the chair in front of the vanity wondering what Alec and Kat’s relationship was actually like on a good day. I didn’t get good vibes from the guy. I really hoped that he treated her ok. She deserved that.   

I was drawn from my thoughts by a knock on the door, “Come in.” 

Kat came through the door, looking behind her as she entered. I assumed to check if anyone was around to see her enter my dressing room. When she finally turned to face me, she paused, taking in my state of undress with wide eyes. I was still wearing the robe and boxer briefs. I now realized the robe was no longer closed, “Oh shit…sorry,” I mumbled as I stood from the chair and tied it shut. I didn’t care if she saw me like this, I was used to it, but I didn’t want to make her uncomfortable. 

She let out a breathy laugh, “No, you're fine. I just wasn’t expecting…that.” 

I chuckled, “Sorry, I’m used to being in various stages of undress on set…I don’t even think about it anymore. I’ll try to keep my clothes on around you.” 

Her teeth sunk into her bottom lip to hold back a smile as she continued to stare at me for a beat, eventually clearing her throat to speak, “Umm…I-I just wanted to come check on you. That PA was kind of an asshole.”  

I waved my hand, “Don’t even worry about it. I’m not.” I’m more bothered by Alec. 

She nodded, “Ok, good…yeah, don’t let that get to you. It’s not worth it.” She shifted her weight and stuck her hands in her back pockets, “How are you feeling about tomorrow?” 

Moving to lean against the vanity, I huffed out a small laugh and scratched at the back of my neck as I stared at the ugly gray stained carpet, “Honestly, I’m nervous as fuck…but…I know you won’t let me mess up too badly.”  You make everything ok. 

My eyes flicked up to meet hers. We stared at each other in silence for a moment. I felt like there was a weird electricity in the air between us. I really wanted to reach out and touch her, to hug her, but I knew that wasn’t a good idea. 

Her lips finally broke into a small smile, “Don’t worry Bravo, I’ve got you. I think you’ll do just fine. You’re better than you think.” 

She turned on her heel to move toward the door, “Well, I’m gonna head home…try and relax and get some rest. We have an early start and it’s gonna be a long day.” 

“You mean you’re not going out with Alec?” I blurted out the question without thinking, like it was any of my damn business what they were doing.  

Kat shook her head, “No, he wanted to go out with some other castmates. I’m not about that kind of lifestyle these days. I have to rest…and he knows that.” 

It made me happier than it should have to know she wouldn’t be spending the evening with Alec. I knew that I shouldn’t be having those kinds of thoughts, they were engaged for fucks sake. They were going to spend time together whether I wanted them to or not. I really needed to get my thoughts under control before this became an issue. 

I pursed my lips, nodding as I forced a smile, “I’ll see you in the morning then. Have a good evening.”

She seemed reluctant as she nodded and reached for the doorknob, leaving me alone with my thoughts.

A short time after I got home, I couldn’t stop thinking about how Kat had gone out of her way to come check on me. Most people wouldn’t bother to do that these days, not that I blamed them. I didn’t deserve anyone’s concern after the way I treated people when I was deep in my addiction. I had to make sure I didn’t fuck this up with her. I sank down into the sofa as I unlocked my phone and pulled up Kat’s number. I started typing a text message and hit send before I could second guess myself. 

Dieter: Thank you for checking in with me. I should have said that earlier. I appreciate it more than you know. I don’t have a lot of people in my life that would do that right now.

I watched as the message status changed to ‘read’. The bubbles started bouncing, telling me that she was typing something, then stopped. That happened a few more times before her response came through. 

Kat: You don’t have to thank me for that. I’ll always check in with you. That’s what friends are for.  

Seeing the word “friend” was sort of a punch in the gut, but I needed that. It helped get my head back where it should be. However, that word also meant that she viewed me as more than just a castmate, which was somewhat comforting. At least I could have a friendship with her. It was more than I had with anyone else at the moment. I decided to push all those thoughts aside and head to bed early before I lost my focus.

My alarm went off at 6 AM the following morning. After a quick shower, I threw on some gym clothes and headed to the local coffee shop. I wasn’t about to try and sustain myself with whatever it was that Craft Services was handing out. I picked up a cup for Kat too, since I now knew how she liked it. I pulled into Television City Studios parking with minutes to spare before we had to be in the ballroom to meet with the band, lighting team, and the cinematographer. We had to make sure the music was right, discuss the lighting scheme, and determine camera blocking for our performance.

As I walked in, I spotted Kat already chatting with the music director and walked over to greet her, handing her coffee over as I stood at her side. They were discussing the tempo of our song to make sure the band hit the mark with it since it had so many variations. As Kat talked, she looped her hand through my arm and gave it a squeeze. I assumed she could sense my anxiety and it did help alleviate it some. As we went through the details, I noticed other cast members starting to file in and sit around the dance floor.  

Once Kat was done going over everything with the band and lighting, Alec came over to offer her some coffee. She gave him a tight smile as she held up her cup, “I’m good, but thanks.” 

His brow furrowed, “Alright, maybe Lana will want it then.” What a fucking dick. 

I felt like he was purposely trying to throw her off her game with that comment. She watched him with narrowed eyes as he walked off toward a small crowd of cast members. I could see her jaw muscles flex before her eyes met mine, “Alright, we’re gonna do a quick run through with the band. There are 18 cameras, so they’ll work on adjusting those as we go through it. If we need to make changes, they’ll let us know. We’ll come back later for the dress rehearsal and run through it a few more times with everything in place.” 

I took a deep breath and nodded. She leaned in to meet my gaze with a small smile, “Hey, we’ve got this. Don’t worry.” 

She reached down and grabbed my hand, pulling me over to our starting mark. As the band began playing, I was already thrown off by how different the music sounded from the track that was provided to us. I think Kat could sense it as she quietly called out some verbal cues at the start. Once we got going, I was on track and made it through the routine with only a few small errors. 

Luckily, there were no last-minute suggested changes to the routine. I’m not sure if I would have retained it if there had been. We had another quick discussion with the producers about the lighting before they cleared us for hair and makeup.  

I suddenly felt like all eyes were on us as we exited the ballroom. It was a little unnerving. Kat leaned in, “Ignore them, they’re just sizing up their competition. There are pros and cons to going first.” 

I chuckled nervously, “And what exactly is a pro for going first?” 

“We don’t have to deal with a frustrated production team. Trust me, they turn into assholes real fast dealing with this bunch.” 

I laughed, “Yeah, that makes sense. How do they decide the order?” 

She smiled, “Well, I got here first this morning…”

I nodded, “So that should be our goal then? Get here first. Got it.” 

The rest of the morning was a blur. Kat and I spent hours in hair and makeup getting poked and prodded at. Luckily this time, we were seated next to each other so we could at least chat through it - mostly focusing on our routine. Once that was finally finished, we headed back to our individual dressing rooms where our costumes were waiting for us. After getting changed, we met back up outside the ballroom to go in for dress rehearsals. Kat looked amazing of course, but I did prefer her more natural look. They had slathered so much makeup and hair gel on the both of us we looked like completely different people. She joked that it was going to take multiple washings to get all the gel out of our hair. I was already not looking forward to going through that process. 

As we walked toward the dance floor for our first run through in costume, I couldn’t help but notice the amount of exposed skin Kat’s gown was showing. I realized for the first time that my hands would be on her bare skin while we were dancing. It was both thrilling and anxiety inducing. I had to quickly shove that thought aside because it threatened to completely derail my focus.

We went through our routine several more times. By the last run through with the music, cameras, and lighting in place, I was feeling more confident about everything. Kat took a minute to give me a small pep talk before she had to run off to change costumes for the group rehearsal. I had to give her credit; she had been very patient with me. She made sure to take time to explain each step of the process to help ease my anxiety. She had been very positive and encouraging as we worked through it all.  

I sat and watched the group rehearsal while I waited for my final fitting time slot with the wardrobe department. The performance was some sort of Latin style dance. Kat did amazingly well. I couldn’t take my eyes off her rhythmic hip movements as she whirled around the floor in time to the beat. I had to chastise myself for looking at her in that way, but it was hard not to. She was electric and commanded the attention of the room above everyone else. 

Stacia stood nearby, watching the performance, just as she had been for all of them so far. However, I was now noticing her occasional glances in my direction. As she was moving toward the other end of the dance floor, she stopped in front of me, “Kat is on fire today. I’m not sure I’ve seen her do this well in a while. I take it that things are going well with the two of you?”

I felt the crease form between my brows as confusion etched my face. What is she actually asking me? “Yeah, I mean…we work well together. She’s a good teacher.”

Stacia narrowed her eyes slightly at my response, then smirked, “Right, you’ve said that.” Fuck. Did I just tip her off on something? I felt like she could see through me as she turned and walked away. Surely, she didn’t think something was going on between Kat and me? I sighed and turned my attention back to the group performance, hoping I didn’t just have a serious fuck up.     

As I watched the third run through for the group, I realized something. Kat had been partnered to dance with Alec, which wasn’t surprising. What was surprising was the vibe between the two of them. It seemed different from the videos that I had watched of their competitions. Her face was expressionless. There was no longer a fiery look behind her eyes as they moved together - almost like there was no connection between them. Maybe she was just focused on getting the choreography correct. They hadn’t practiced the group routine that much after all. That had to be it, right? I couldn’t allow myself to think that it was any other reason. 

After their last run through, Kat walked off the dancefloor, directly over to me to get her water bottle. After taking a long drink, she turned to me, “We need to get to wardrobe for our final fittings. They’ll have our heads if we’re late.”   

I followed behind Kat toward the wardrobe department. She had to pop into her dressing room to grab her other costume on the way. They took us to the back as soon as we walked in. The tailor that we had worked with before, Amy, gave Kat a once over. They both seemed satisfied with her first costume, so Kat went to the changing room to switch to the black gown she would be wearing for our performance. While Kat was changing, Amy turned her attention to me, “Well, your buttons don’t seem to be hanging on for dear life this time, so I think we should be good. Do the pants feel ok? Not too tight?” 

I shook my head, “No everything feels like it fits perfectly. Thank you for making the size adjustments.” Amy seemed proud of herself as she gave me one last look over. Kat returned in her gown minutes later.

“Does everything feel ok on this one Kat?” Amy asked as she stood back to look over the fit of the gown.  

“Yeah, it fits like a glove. Perfect as always. I do have a request though…would it be possible to get a lower heel for both costumes?”

Amy’s brow furrowed, “You know production won’t be happy if you have different shoes for the group performance. Do you not wanna wear regulation heel height?”

Kat sighed, “Fine, I’ll keep the ones for group, but I would like lower ones to go with the gown. If we can try to keep them lower for the rest of the season as much as possible that would be great.”

Amy gave her a sympathetic look, “Are you having foot pain already?”

Kat huffed out a laugh, “No... not yet, but I’m trying really hard to avoid it as much as I can.” 

Amy nodded before disappearing to the back. 

I knew Kat could see the confusion on my face when she glanced up at my reflection in the mirror. I didn’t understand what they were talking about. “Everything ok?”  

She gave me a tight smile, “Did you know that for every inch added to heels, the weight on the pad of your foot increases by 25%. Regulation heel height for ballroom is two and a half inches…for Latin it's three. Heels change your gait and the way you move. I have arthritis in my feet, knees, and hips. The heels and Latin dances really do a number on me because I’m too fucking old to be doing this. So, I’m trying to be proactive before it gets too bad to dance.”   

Suddenly everything made sense. My mouth fell open in shock. Fuck. I had no idea. “That’s why this is your last season?” 

She nodded, “Yep. I’m retiring from competitive dancing.” 

I could tell this wasn’t an easy decision. I could see how much she loved dancing. My heart was aching for her. That would be like me giving up acting. Just the thought of doing that freaked me the fuck out. 

I gave her a devilish smile, “Well, that settles it then. We’re gonna win this fucking competition. You’re going out on top.”

She laughed, grabbing my hand to pull me in for a quick side hug, “Thank you…for trusting me to be your partner.” 

I pulled her in closer for a tight hug, realizing she had multiple meanings behind her words. I could feel my chest tighten as I worked to steady my emotions. It seemed that both of us had demons to battle. As we pulled away, Amy appeared from the back with a different pair of shoes for Kat, “Best I can do is a one and a half inch. We don’t have a lot of lower heels on hand.” 

Kat took the shoes from her, “That’s perfect, I’ll take them. Thank you.”  

After we finished with Amy, we stopped in hair and makeup for quick touch ups. While we were getting touched up, I could tell Kat was starting to get nervous, inhaling deeply and exhaling slowly as she looked up at the clock on the wall.

I glanced her way, “You good?” 

She chuckled, “Yeah, I always get a little pre-show jitters. It’ll pass. It’s 3:40…They’ll be bringing the audience in now. It’s almost time.” 

I pursed my lips then laughed, “You can’t be nervous. It’s gonna make me nervous.” 

She reached her hand across the space between the chairs, I grabbed it in mine so she could give it a comforting squeeze as she looked at me intently, speaking in a low voice, “You have no reason to be nervous. You’ve got this. After seeing some of the rehearsals, I honestly think you're one of the best on the cast this season. At least in the top three.”

I rolled my eyes and chuckled, “Yeah, whatever. You’re just lubing me up.”

She gave me a toothy grin and laughed, “No, I’m serious.” 

Alec and Lana’s reflection caught my attention in the mirror as they walked into the room. I dropped Kat’s hand and gave her a small smile. Alec approached us from behind, walking around Kat’s chair to lean down and give her a quick kiss, “You look beautiful, baby. Good luck out there. Your dress rehearsal looked great.”

Kat’s brows arched as she chewed on the inside of her cheek, “Thank you. You too.” She gave him a small smile, but it looked forced. Alec moved to sit at the empty station beside Lana, but I could tell he was watching us through the mirror. Kat didn’t say much after that, not until we were finished and walking toward the dressing rooms so she could change back into her group performance costume. 

I waited for her in the hallway - going through the routine in my head as I stood there. It was only a few minutes before Kat joined me with her phone and wired earbuds in hand. As she walked over to me, I noticed she was looking down the hallway with an annoyed expression, I laughed quietly, “What’s wrong?”  

“Anika is looking at you like you’re a fresh piece of meat.” 

“Oh?” I turned in the direction Kat had been looking. Sure enough, there was a short blonde giving me a flirty smile. I gave her something between a grimace and smile back as I turned toward Kat, “Yeah, sorry about her luck. That’s not happening.” 

Kat laughed, “Why? Not your type?”

I shook my head, “No, not anymore. I don’t date party girls. Actually, I’m taking a hiatus from dating at the moment. They recommended that in rehab. At least until I’m sure I have my shit together.”  

Kat arched a brow in my direction, “So you haven’t…dated…anyone since you went to rehab…eight months ago?

I scratched at the back of my neck nervously, “Since before that. It’s been like eleven months since I hooked up with anyone.” 

She was now raising both eyebrows at me, “Hooked up?” 

I grimaced, “Yeah, I didn’t really do the whole relationship thing before. I was kind of a mess and an asshole.”

She chuckled, “I’m sure you broke a lot of hearts.”

I sucked air in through my teeth, “Ehhh…Doubtful. Most of them were just as fucked up as me. They were usually trying to get something outta me…money, fame…the list goes on. It’s part of the reason I have a hard time trusting people.”  

Kat was giving me an intense look now. It was that look that made my stomach do flips and my heart race in my ears. I could feel the electricity crackling between us again. 

“But you trust me?” More than anyone. 

I waited a beat to answer as my eyes roamed over her face, “Yeah...I do.” 

Joe and Stacia chose that moment to walk by, yelling out a 20-minute warning to start time. Stacia gave us a wide smile as they continued past us. I looked back at Kat, now realizing how closely we were standing. I backed away slightly as we gave each other an awkward smile. 

“We should probably head to the staging area.” I nodded and followed closely behind her. 

Before I knew it, the show was starting. I stood in the staging area, watching the group performance. Kat of course did the routine to perfection. Once they were finished, she had to run off to change. Luckily our performance was toward the end of the show, so she didn’t have to rush. I sat watching the show until she reappeared at my side, smiling and breathless. I gave her a lopsided grin, “You did amazing.” Her cheeks flushed at the compliment before she murmured a quiet “Thank you.” 

She busied herself with untangling her corded earbuds. As I watched her, I had to appreciate that she didn’t use the wireless kind. Once she had them untangled, she handed one of them to me. I gave her a confused look, “I like to listen to music to get hyped up before performances. It helps with the nerves.” I couldn’t help the smile that spread across my face. This was something I often did while filming to get into character. 

I stuck the bud in my ear just as the familiar opening beats of Lose Yourself started playing. I glanced up at her, “Eminem…really?”   

She gave me a toothy grin, nodding before she started bobbing her head to the music. I laughed, following her lead. She grabbed my hands, shaking my arms and forcing me to move in time with her to the beat as she started quietly mouthing the words. If her goal was to distract me, it was working. By the time the song ended, it was nearly our turn. We stood bouncing on our feet to keep the energy going until it was time for us to walk out onto the dance floor and take our places. 

I could hear the blood pulsing in my ears as we waited for the music to start - both of us breathing heavily in anticipation. The electricity between Kat and I only seemed amplified by the audience's excitement as we walked down the small set of steps to the opening notes, arm in arm. The moment I took her hand for the inside turn, something just clicked between us as we moved in perfect synchronization across the dance floor. Our connection felt differently than it had during rehearsals. The heat of her bare skin caused my fingertips to tingle as they slid down her back and sides. I could sense that Kat felt it too because her eyes were blazing from the energy passing between us. It was almost like we were moving as one. I found the intensity of the moment was strangely intoxicating.

I was in a daze as the performance came to an end. Kat quickly pulled me in for a hug as she jumped up and down while the crowd applauded loudly around us. The performance went by so quickly I didn’t even have time to think. It was more muscle memory than anything. All I could do was let out the breath I had been holding and smile down at her as we walked over to speak with the judges. 

The judges mostly gave compliments, noting that we had pulled off the elegance of the dance, making it seem effortless and magnetizing. One of them even commented on the electricity and connection between us. I guess I wasn’t the only one that felt it. The feedback they gave was that I needed to make sure I was holding my frame all the way through the performance. That didn’t surprise me as Kat was constantly calling me out me on it. Holding the frame absolutely wore my back out, so it was a struggle.

After getting the judges feedback, we moved over to the interview area to answer a few questions about our performance while we waited for the scores to be chosen and verified. Kat grabbed my hand and squeezed it tightly as I rambled on about the challenges I had during rehearsal. As I finished answering the question, the host went back to the judges for scoring. They gave us three 8’s and one 7. It was the highest anyone had scored so far. I was in shock as Kat pulled me in for another hug.  

Once we were back in the staging area, I burst out laughing. I couldn’t believe it. Once I finally got it together, I glanced at Kat who was smiling at me. Her eyes were still bright with emotion as I grabbed her, pulling her in for another tight hug, “I cannot believe we just did that…you were so fucking amazing.”

She pulled away, still smiling, “You were too. I told you, you’re good at this. If we keep that up, I think we have a real chance of making it to finals.”    

I nodded, suddenly feeling much more confident about this whole thing. 

We stayed around to see how the last few performances went, letting the adrenaline burn off as we critiqued the competition. There were only two other couples who had scores near ours. Anika and her partner were a few points below us. Alec and Lana were tied with us. I could feel Kat tensing beside me as the judges read off Alec and Lana’s scores. I knew she had to be considering how those two being our biggest competition could affect things going forward. It would undoubtedly create even more tension between her and Alec. There was also the narrative of the show to consider. Kat and I both knew the executive producers would somehow use this to their advantage.  

Next: Week 3 (Part 1)

A/N: Whew, we have soooooo much to unpack for this chapter. We had lots of bonding and some mild flirting with Dieter & Kat. You know I want to hear all your thoughts and thots about these two.

We had more shenanigans from Stacia and Joe. What do you think they are up to? Now we have Anika throwing some attention Dieter’s way. Then there is the Alec & Lana nonsense going on…and just Alec’s nonsense in general.

Also…Dieter is totally not being honest with his therapist AND he has a fucking cat now. 🤭

Of course they nailed their first performance. They are going to be a force to be reckoned with. Speaking of their performance, I’ve been watching A LOT of DWTS episodes and videos as I write this fic. So, for each week I’m going to share one or two videos that inspired Dieter & Kat’s performance for the chapter. This chapter’s inspiration is linked below. The first video is more of what I envisioned for their first dance. The second is a sexier foxtrot that would have had Dieter’s head spinning, but he’s totally down for it. Don’t worry, they will get there eventually.

✨More good stuff below the videos.✨

👉In case you missed it, head on over HERE to check out this amazing video that @survivingandenduring was kind enough to put together for Closed Position. It's hot and has all the Dieter & Kat ✨vibes✨. I’m still screaming over it!

👉I have started working on a playlist for Closed Position. I will be adding to it as inspiration strikes. I plan to add the songs used for Dieter & Kat's performances as we go along too.

Taglist: @secretelephanttattoo @titlee78 @maggiemayhemnj @legendary-pink-dot @morallyinept @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 @pedrostories

*If your name is marked out, it wouldn’t let me tag you. ☹️

If you would like to be added to the tag list, let me know in the comments or shoot me a DM.

Credits: Support/MDNI Dividers: @cafekitsune Disco Divider: @deadbranch

[pizzaapeteer]

Hey I’m kinda new to the fandom and at first I thought these guys were actually casted as the 🐍 boys but I looked it up and they’re just in random shows. Was this like a fancast or something? How come everyone agreed to use the same actors when writing about the guys? I need to know the lore😭

Hi hi hi theeeee biggest apology for taking forever to respond. pls accept my love 💛🌟 SO, I haven't actually read any of the original fanfictions that Lorenzo (Enzo) Berkshire, Mattheo Riddle and Theodore Nott are from. Though I know Theo is canon, there is a fanfiction that gave him more of a personality and I believe where he got his fancast face from. If im correct all the original fanfiction for these characters started on wattpad. Please I apologise if I get any of this info incorrect its just what I've picked up myself or learnt from friends.

Mattheo Riddle I believe he was created from the fanfiction Possessive by yasmineamaro. It's a draco Malfoy fic but he's a character that gets introduced in it. I only know this based off what friends have told me. I know his face claim is Benjamin Wadsworth and the most pics are taken from when he was in Deadly Class. Which I recommend watching if you haven't, it's a good show and he's gorgeous in it. Mattheo seems to be switched between Tom Riddles son/brother depending on who writes the fic, but is originally Tom and Bellatrix's son.

His original personality is also described as cold, possessive, jealous, or at least that's how I was introduced to the character and like to try mostly keep him. Of course, with fanfiction you can bend characters in a way that fits the plot or scenario of your fic and character (reader). The original fic looks to have been taken down, but this link explains what the book is about and Mattheo's character.

Lorenzo Berkshire Enzo I believe came from the fanfiction Filthy created by babynaomi. Another original Draco Malfoy fanfiction haha and him as more of a side character. His face claim is Louis Partridge original picked from Enola Holmes. Also he is adorable in that, especially the second film. Enzo in this fic is a fucking prick. He's a perverted, slimy git who manipulates and uses women. Again Louis is so adorable its easy to think of Enzo as super sweet, I try to find a blend between the two personalities. But always trying to remember that Enzo is a Slytherin for a reason. Pretty sure his mother is also bellatrix, so he’s suppose to be Mattheos half-brother and Draco’s cousin. Don’t quote me on that 🫢

Theodore Nott Theo is originally mentioned in the Harry Potter series and in the Cursed child. From what I know, he was a part of Draco Malfoy's gang, and his father was a death eater who was caught in the Order of the Pheonix with Lucius. Also that he invented the time turner in the Cursed child and sent to Azkaban by Harry as an adult. But his fanfiction which gives him more of a personality that I base my writing on at least, and the one I discovered he was in, is Secret and Masks by Emerald_Slytherin. His face claim is Lorenzo Zurzolo from the Italian show Baby. Also, another good show, and I fucking love his hair in that.

I'm not sure how everyone just came to agree but I bloody love that we all did. When I first got into them those were just the three guys already picked as face claims and I love them all and the personalities that have been picked. I hope this helped, I assume you already discovered this out since I took so long, but I appreciate you reaching out 💛 I need to read these og fics tbh

[hollowed-theory-hall]

what's the one harry potter pairing u like that u mentioned in the tags of your hinny post?

Anonymous: Can I ask who that minor character you ship with Harry is? For some absurd reason my mind jumped to Stan Shunpike lol but it's probably not him.... Or is it?

Okay, so this is kind of a funny story. Like, my pipeline through hp pairings was a weird one. Like, I used to read a lot of Harry pairings, still do on occasion (some make more sense than others). None of them were ones I would point at and say: "that should've happened in the books"

One day, I was innocently writing a fic (canon divergence of GoF), and it was just for me, for funnsies, never posted it anywhere and not planning to. And I planned to pair Harry with someone there (honestly, I don't remember who because I didn't write the plan down) but when writing, Harry ended up with a different character. And it was so strange to me because that never happened.

Like, how do you write a ship accidentally?

But I did. I wrote Harry into a ship by accident. So I went back to the books to try and figure out why the hell would my subconscious decide that's the way to go.

I'll also preface it by all this being my subjective opinion and I do read other Harry ships in fics, this one just quickly became my favorite to write (and the only one I write). Also, I don't actually think this is a pairing that should've happened in the books, it's place is in fic and that's where I like it.

So, the character I accidentally shipped with Harry is... *drumroll*

Stan Shunpike!

Not really, it's:

Theodore Nott

Now, you might look at the name and go: "Who the fuck is that?"

And you'll be correct. Theo has 0 speaking lines in the entire book series. His name appears twice. He, himself, as a person, only appeared on page, like, 3 times in the background. The scene that gives the most information about him is other characters talking about him. He isn't even present.

That being said, I'm very good at extrapolating a lot of information from very little evidence. So allow me, to walk you through who is Theodore Nott and why I ship him with Harry.

Basic Information

So, let's start with the most basic overview before I pull out the quotes and go any deeper.

We know Theo is a Slytherin student in Harry's year. So he likely shares a dorm with Draco, Blaise, Crabbe, and Goyle.

Theo's father is both at the graveyard at the end of GoF and in the Department of Mysteries at the end of OotP, so we know he is a Death Eater. We also know Thoe's father was one of the first and closest Death Eaters to Voldemort, who waited for him during his interview with Dumbledore in 1967:

“Then if I were to go to the Hog’s Head tonight, I would not find a group of them — Nott, Rosier, Mulciber, Dolohov — awaiting your return? Devoted friends indeed...”

(HBP, page 444)

We also know the Nott family is "as pure-blooded as the Malfoys" according to JKR in an interview. We also know Theo's great-grandfather (maybe? the family relation isn't clear), Cantankerus Nott, is suspected to be the one who wrote the Pure-Blood Dictionary, the book that coined the term "Sacred 28" and made that list (which the Nott family are on).

The name Nott is potentially to be derived from the name Nótt, which is the personification of the night in Norse Mythology. So it has been theorized the Nott family have a Nordic origin. Possible, but it doesn't really matter for this post.

What does, is that he comes from a dark, Death Eater, blood-purist family similar to the Malfoys. Even so, Theo never took the Dark Mark and never joined Voldemort in the books.

Now, that we have the basic information out of the way, let's look at Theodore as a person.

All the details I could gather from the books

Alright, now we get to the fun part. That is, me going through all the relevant scenes that mention Theodore Nott and actually creating a character psychoanalysis out of basically nothing.

So, the quotes aren't organized in a particular order. I'm just going to explain Theo and then explain why all this makes me ship him with Harry.

“Well, I pity Slughorn’s taste. Maybe he’s going a bit senile. Shame, my father always said he was a good wizard in his day. My father used to be a bit of a favorite of his. Slughorn probably hasn’t heard I’m on the train, or —” “I wouldn’t bank on an invitation,” said Zabini. “He asked me about Nott’s father when I first arrived. They used to be old friends, apparently, but when he heard he’d been caught at the Ministry he didn’t look happy, and Nott didn’t get an invitation, did he? I don’t think Slughorn’s interested in Death Eaters.” Malfoy looked angry, but forced out a singularly humorless laugh.

(HBP, page 150)

This is a part of the conversation between Draco, Pansy, and Blaise, Harry overhears when he is hiding in their compartment at the beginning of HBP. I have a few things to note regarding this scene.

Firstly, throughout this conversation, Pansy, Blaise, and Draco all call each other by their first name. This shows closeness, they are all friendly and familiar enough to use their first names with each other. Theo, though, is referred to as "Nott" by all three in the compartment.

He doesn't actually sit in their compartment which is in itself a sign about how he isn't really friendly with Draco's group. Considering the group is most of his year from his house, Theo is likely very lonely, and it will be apparent from other scenes I bring up later.

Secondly, Theo's father is in Azkaban. We know Draco is bothered about his own father's predicament. He mentions it to Harry and bothers him over it, Theo doesn't though. Theo doesn't seem to be bothered by Harry or his father's incarceration.

The only conclusion I can draw from this is that the relationship between Theo and his father is not a good one.

(I know some fics like to have Lucius be abusive towards Draco, for some reason. But the books really don't back this up. Lucius loves Draco and Draco adores his father)

Theo, though, Theo seems to be the one with a very strained relationship with his father. Strained enough that he isn't bothered the man is in Azkaban. What I'm saying is that Theo's father likely abuses or mistreats him in some capacity.

If anything more was needed to complete Harry’s happiness, it was Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle’s reactions. He saw them with their heads together later that afternoon in the library, together with a weedy-looking boy Hermione whispered was called Theodore Nott. They looked around at Harry as he browsed the shelves for the book he needed on Partial Vanishment, and Goyle cracked his knuckles threateningly and Malfoy whispered something undoubtedly malevolent to Crabbe. Harry knew perfectly well why they were acting like this: He had named all of their fathers as Death Eaters

(OotP, page 583)

This is a scene at the end of OotP after Draco, Crabbe, Goyle and Theo's fathers were caught at the ministry and sent to Azkaban because they are Death Eaters. There are a few important notes about this scene.

The first, Hermione knows Theo, while Harry and Ron don't really. This means she likely knows him from the classes she takes and Harry and Ron don't — Arithmancy and/or Ancient Runes.

The second, he is sitting with other Death Eater children, but I don't think it's by choice. I mentioned in the previous quote how he isn't close to Draco and his crew. He sits with them here mostly because he doesn't have another choice. Theo doesn't seem to really have any friends, so he sits with the closest people he has to friends — kids he has known since he was young because their fathers were in the same circle.

The other note about this is that Crabbe, Goyle, and Draco are all mentioned as being threatening and malicious towards Harry because they don't like that their fathers are in Azkaban. Theo, though, Theo doesn't threaten Harry, he isn't part of their whisperings. As I mentioned above, he's likely happy his father is in Azkaban.

A pair of blank, white, shining eyes were growing larger through the gloom and a moment later the dragonish face, neck, and then skeletal body of a great, black, winged horse emerged from the darkness. It looked around at the class for a few seconds, swishing its long black tail, then bowed its head and began to tear flesh from the dead cow with its pointed fangs. A great wave of relief broke over Harry. Here at last was proof that he had not imagined these creatures, that they were real: Hagrid knew about them too. He looked eagerly at Ron, but Ron was still staring around into the trees and after a few seconds he whispered, “Why doesn’t Hagrid call again?” Most of the rest of the class were wearing expressions as confused and nervously expectant as Ron’s and were still gazing everywhere but at the horse standing feet from them. There were only two other people who seemed to be able to see them: a stringy Slytherin boy standing just behind Goyle was watching the horse eating with an expression of great distaste on his face, and Neville, whose eyes were following the swishing progress of the long black tail.

(OotP, page 445)

“The only people who can see thestrals,” she said, “are people who have seen death.”

(OotP, page 446)

The stringy Slytherin boy mentioned here is Theo. This scene proves that:

He takes Care of Magical Creatures

He saw someone die

Let's explore the second one for a moment. The fact Theo can see Thestrals means he watched someone die and was old enough to comprehend what he was seeing. We also know Theo's mother is dead. So it's likely the person he watched die was his mother.

I also want to draw attention to Theo's distaste towards Thestrals. He could likely see them carrying the carriages every year since 2nd year, it's not his first time seeing them. But it doesn't stop his displeasure with their sight from showing. Which says something about him. It means he likely recalls his mother and her death whenever he looks at the Thestrals. and these are memories Theo rather not experience.

We don't know how his mother died, but I'd hazard a guess it wasn't natural. After all, wizards have long life spans, they are more durable to illness and injury, and don't usually die from accidents unless very extreme or magical. And there was no epidemic of dragonpox (a disease that does tend to kill wizards) in the time since 1980 and the books. So, she was more likely killed at some point between 1985(ish) and 1991.

“No, I don’t think so, sir. I’m Muggle-born, you see.” Harry saw Malfoy lean close to Nott and whisper something; both of them sniggered, but Slughorn showed no dismay; on the contrary, he beamed and looked from Hermione to Harry, who was sitting next to her.

(HBP, pages 185-186)

First, Theo is an O student in potions since he is in the potions NEWT class, and was probably meant to be there even if Snape was the teacher.

Second, again, Theo doesn't really have friends. He sits next to Draco as the only other Slytherin in the class. Also, they share the circumstances of being sons of Death Eaters currently in Azkaban. Although both of them seem to deal with it quite differently.

Third, Theo joins Draco in making fun of Hermione's blood status, but he does not initiate it. Considering the environment he was raised in and is in, it makes sense he would make fun of it. Whether he's a blood-purist or not, he would want to keep his image considering he doesn't have many allies. Hanging out with Draco is survival, not friendship. They aren't even on a first-name basis with each other.

“Amortentia doesn’t really create love, of course. It is impossible to manufacture or imitate love. No, this will simply cause a powerful infatuation or obsession. It is probably the most dangerous and powerful potion in this room — oh yes,” he said, nodding gravely at Malfoy and Nott, both of whom were smirking skeptically. “When you have seen as much of life as I have, you will not underestimate the power of obsessive love. . . .

(HBP, page 186)

The final quote I have about Theo is from the same potions class as above. Both he and Draco are portrayed here as underestimating amortentia and its potential damage. It makes sense for their upbringing in the Wizarding World, which has no real laws or regulations regarding love potions that are seen as harmless fun more often than not.

I'll add Theo likely didn't witness a healthy romantic relationship. Considering his father is a Death Eater who is likely abusive and may or may not have killed his mother. With this as his reference to a marriage, it's clear why he'd look down on love and love potions.

Why I think Theo and Harry have potential

Okay, so now that we know who Theodore Nott is, let's talk about why I ship him with Harry.

I think Harry, in general, would get along best with a clever partner with the ability to be ruthless (Slytherins or Ron fall into this category). Because Harry isn't some golden savior; he casts unforgivables, and is very willing to poison Umbridge or Crocio Snape if he could get away with it. He needs a partner that won't be horrified by these thoughts.

Also, Theo literally never speaks on page. Even when spoken to, his reactions are silent. I think this quiet and no need to talk, the ability to be comfortable in silence, is something that would be comfortable for Harry. Harry in the books finds himself annoyed with Ron and Hermione's constant banter on occasion, so I think it fits well.

Theo would also be comfortable around Harry without a need to play a certain part. Because Harry wouldn't care about that. He would honestly rather Theo forgo the pure-blood Slytherin act.

I feel like Harry and Theo, have a good potential to understand each other. Theo lost his mother and likely experiences abuse from his father. It makes them very likely to trauma bond over their crap life and shared experience. Two out of three only ones who could see the Thestrals in the entire class.

The other thing I feel they could connect over is being lonely. Harry spent all his childhood until Hogwarts basically being on his own. Theo stayed on his own. Draco at least has his parents, he has other students he's closer to, not that he shares everything with them, but he has some support network. Theo has none. And this is something Harry knows well.

Theo, I think, wouldn't expect anything specific from Harry. He doesn't even interact with him, not to mock him, and not to idolize him, he doesn't care at all. And we know how much Harry appreciates being thought of as Harry and not as the Boy-Who-Lived. Theo would allow Harry to be himself without some mold he wants him to fit in.

The fact Theo never becomes a Death Eater, even though he was in Draco's year and his father was a Death Eater before Lucius (and in better standing than Lucius with Voldemort) is so interesting. It's somewhat surprising Theo wasn't marked. It means he didn't want to be. It means that Theo Nott didn't want to torture and kill muggleborns or blood traitors, or anyone really. And he didn't want to swear his allegiance to Voldemort. This is just a fascinating fact to me and something I enjoy considering. What life experience made him come to that conclusion? Was it just his dislike of his father that pushed him away? Could he have been another Sirius Black (Gryffindor in a Slytherin family) under slightly different circumstances? I mean, Voldemort likely wouldn't force him to become a Death Eater, but would his father? I don't know what at all went down there, but I like that potential story.

We also know he wasn't part of Umbridge's Inquisitorial Squad, even though some minor Slytherins were mentioned to be part of it. He just seems to be an actually decent guy (I don't care what Cursed Child says about him, I know he's there but I avoided almost anything to do with Cursed Child so I barely know the plot).

Finally, this is a character Harry doesn't have as much drama to get over with. Yes, sometimes I want to read overcoming drama between characters before it becomes a romance, but sometimes I want something chiller than that. And Theo is a really chill, safe, Slytherin option for Harry.

[indigovigilance]

The Erasure of Human!Metatron

The elephant in the room is that Neil has [purportedly] denied the existence of a human Metatron. But I, for one, think an elephant really ties the room together. So let's get started.

First, I will address Neil Gaiman’s apparent denial of the Human!Metatron storyline (below the cut):

Caption: The Metatron in Good Omens wasn't ever human.

Which would seem to put the debate to bed.

Except.

Caption: That’s not really his father. It is. It is now, and it always was.

By Adam renouncing Satan as his father, we have in-story canon evidence that the past can be retroactively changed. So a storyline past can be divergent from an in-world past which has been modified. But only to a degree, because Aziraphale and Crowley clearly remember that Adam ~was~ Satan’s son, and Adam still retains some residual powers. Like pencil marks on paper, the past can be erased, but the shadow of its former self will always be there. But if that's not enough for you, there's also...

Lucifer!Satan

Neil Gaiman has also been pretty consistent with this characterization about the non-existence of the past in other characters, for example Lucifer!Satan:

Basically (not to be rude), if you think that these statements can be taken to mean that we will definitely not get a story about Enoch aka Human!Metatron in S3, you have fundamentally misunderstood how time, history, and identity work in Neil Gaiman’s Good Omens universe.

So what Neil said about Metatron never being human… can we just collectively set that aside for a moment?

Caption: Work with me, I’m extrapolating here. Yes? Good. Read the rest of the meta.

Evidence of Human!Metatron

Now that we have established that a former, no-longer-existing version of Metatron could have been human, let’s examine the in-world evidence. The best direct evidence is:

Caption: I’ve ingested things in my time, you know.

This is weirdly important in the Book of Enoch. Food is mentioned in the Book of Enoch at least fourteen times, and consistently it is associated with being human, and having earthly desires, and subsequently with sin, whereas the angels are described as not needing to eat food but instead being nourished by faith alone. Enoch!Metatron’s own relationship with food is also explicitly elucidated:

Enoch answered to his son Mathosalam (and) said: Hear, child, from the time when the Lord anointed me with the ointment of his glory, (there has been no) food in me, and my soul remembers not earthly enjoyment, neither do I want anything earthly.

I propose that "in my time" is a direct reference to Metatron's prior existence as a human, and the fact that this time is over serves to underscore his current inhumanity, making him all the more sinister.

Other Evidence Pointing to Book of Enoch

This next bit is somewhat dubious evidence, but the entire reason I wound up investigating this is that I was actually investigating Baraqiel:

…and for the God-fearing life of me, I cannot find any reference to Baraqiel except in the Book of Enoch. So this is a pretty big ✨Clue✨ to just leave hanging out there if it’s not supposed to lead us to this text.

The Scottish Mason

Okay guys, this the part where it all comes unhinged, but I promise the payoff is worth it.

The Book of Enoch was recovered from Ethiopia in 1773 by a Scottish explorer named James Bruce, who also happened to be a Mason. In 1774, upon his return, he was made a Fellow of The Royal Society of Edinburgh. And if this quote doesn’t get you, I don’t know what will:

Amazingly, Bruce brings back not just one copy, nor two, but three! Three copies of this text, which was previously thought to have been lost to the West forever. This inevitably led to all kinds of accusations as to where he had come by them, and more importantly how? Add to this that Bruce was a Mason in one of the most influential lodges, a Bruce descendant, and an imposing physical figure and 6 feet 4 inches tall, with dark red hair and an irascible temper, it is no wonder that so much excitement and mystery surrounded the man. [source]

So, you know, this guy:

In summary:

There are reasons that we should be looking to the Book of Enoch, and the story surrounding its reintroduction to the Western world, as source evidence for Good Omens S3.

If you enjoyed this, you may also like my meta on Baraqiel and Azazel, which draws upon the Book of Enoch.

My original (in retrospect, kind of terrible) Metatron meta is here.

[x-liv25-jamieswife]

my long ass avery rant that might not make sense but i love her and needed to make this.

a huge rant about my love for avery (i swear im not hating on anyone (except for avery haters... sort of. i respect your opinion but...)) i think the end of my rant makes more sense than the beginning...

IVE MADE A POST ABOUT THIS BUT ILL SAY IT AGAIN. STOP OVERLOOKING AVERY'S TRAUMA. SHE IS SO UNDERRATED AND SUCH A COMPLEX CHARACTER AND I CAN'T STAND PEOPLE IGNORING HER. PEOPLE IN THIS FANDOM BARELY POST ABOUT HER AND IT'S UNBEARABLE (LIKE NO HATE CAUSE I LOVE ALL THE LYRA POSTS BUT HOW ARE PEOPLE POSTING MORE ABOUT A CHARACTER NO ONE KNOWS ABOUT AND NOT AVERY??? LIKE I SAID NOT HATE, I EAT THE LYRA POSTS UP).

she's literally the best character in the series. the brothers don't even come close to her. people who are mad at her for not picking grayson can actually just shove it up their ass bc gray and avery would've never worked out in the long run. avery is a queen and i see people hating on her for so many stupid reasons. not picking gray? giving away the money? being an emily 2.0????????????????????????????? don't even dare compare my queen, my love, my everything to that wretched beast who is now rotting in a coffin underground. some people making reviews on goodreads seriously need to get a life and touch some grass.

as im rereading the main trilogy, i'm writing down quotes from avery so i can make an in depth analysis of her character. it might suck and it will definitely be multiple parts but if no one is gonna acknowledge her trauma, i will. i'm sick and tired of people constantly ranting about grayson and other characters when avery is literally the main character. none of this series would exist if it weren't for avery. the fact that some people are willing to defend their favorite characters when they hurt avery is so so sad to me. like, i love jameson with my entire heart, but treating avery like a puzzle and messing with her self esteem was not cool of him. same goes for grayson and him treating avery like a shitty gold digger who 'hasn't struggled like he has'

i've made posts about this before but i feel the need to make another one. i've seen people defend grayson for treating avery like shit in the first book (some people do it as a joke which is fine but some people are actually serious and it confuses me??). i get that grayson was mad and disappointed that his grand father disinherited him after a lifetime of being told he was going to inherit. his feelings were 100% valid. did he have the right to take it out on avery though? no. not at all. this girl is even more confused that he is and has been nothing but kind to him. him invalidating her feelings and treating her like crap is just so shitty of him. don't get me wrong. he has redeemed himself and i do love him, but seeing people defending him (in a serious way) just gets on my nerves. would you like to be treated the way avery was in tig? i think not.

i'm not as mad about jameson bc 1. he apologized on 'screen' and 2. i don't see people defending him as much as grayson (i don't think i've ever seen a post defending him which is good). i love him too, and what he did was also horrible. i better not ever see a post defending him. his actions are explainable but that doesn't justify them. he really messed with avery's self-esteem, so much as to make her doubt his feelings towards her. the only reason i'm not as mad as with the grayson situation is bc i don't see people defending him as passionately (if at all).

i see this happen in so many fandoms. people gush over the male love interest or the male main character and completely ignore the fmc. the only fandom i don't see this happening in is the folk of the air fandom. jude is getting the attention she deserves which makes me so happy. people willingly ignore what the fmc goes through at the hands of their favorite male character just bc they love them and that is just so absurd to me.

anyways, avery has been through so much fucking trauma it would take me hours to go through it all. she grew up with almost no one by her side, learning how to take care of/protect herself, lost her mother at 15, her best friend moved away a few years before her mom died, her father treated her like dog shit and completely ignore her for her entire life until she inherited the money, she lived in her car, worked her ass off at school and at work to simply keep herself alive, had to deal with drake (although she wasn't his girlfriend, he clearly affected her if she was willing to move into her car bc of him), was almost killed by drake (and, indirectly, skye), sheffield, and eve (and kidnapped by sheffield), it was mentioned on tfg (i believe) that there were other attempts on her life in between thl and tfg, dealt with people constantly belittling her trauma (and her) and saying horrible things about her, she deals with horrible panic attacks after everything she's been through, also deals with crappy self esteem (that was made worse by some of the hawthornes), her privacy was constantly invaded, and, this one is more subtle, but there are instances where she thinks (or does) self harm (like the scene in thl where she's purposefully trying to hurt herself by punching the brick wall blocking off toby's wing. both oren and jameson had to step in to help her). all of these things clearly affected her but barely anyone talks about it? i'm probably missing some things but i just wish she got more attention. she is one of the most forgiving (literally too forgiving. she's willing to forgive people so easily bc she wants to be wanted (but doesn't want to want to be wanted) and have friends)

this girl is much stronger than anyone gives her credit for (the hawthornes would never survive in the 'asylum where they raised her' (whos afraid of little old me by avery is definitely her song)). this rant is probably all over the place and is really long (but definitely won't be the last). thank you for attending my ted talk.

[writing-reference-redux]

I felt like sharing my collection of Latin phrases that may make good fanfic or fanart titles or inspiration. Some of the translations may be off, so you might want to double-check them before use. Also, I used capitalization liberally so you might also want to check where capitalization is actually indicated.

Ab Intra (From Within)

Acta Est Fabula (The play has been performed)

Acta Sancti ___ (The Deeds of Saint ___)

Ad Undas (to the waves / to hell)

Advocatus Diaboli (Devil's advocate)

Aegri Somnia (a sick man's dreams / troubled dreams)

Alea Iacta Est (the die has been cast / point of no return)

Apologia Pro Vita Sua (defense of one's life)

Caetera Desunt (the rest is missing)

Cedere Nescio (I know not how to yield)

Damnatio Memoriae (damnation of memory / denying someone ever lived)

De Nobis Fabula Narratur (their story is our story)

Decessit Vita Patris (died before their father)

Diem Perdidi (I have lost the day)

Dies Tenebrosa Sicut Nox (a day as dark as night)

Dolor Hic Tibi Proderit Olim (some day this pain will be useful to you)

Dulce Est Desipere In Loco (It is sweet on occasion to play the fool)

Dum Vivimus, Vivamus (while we live, let us live)

Dux Bellorum (war leader)

Ex Umbra In Solem (from the shadow into the light)

Festina Lente (hurry slowly)

Fortis Cadere, Cedere Non Potest (the brave may fall, but can not yield)

Fui Quod Es, Eris Quod Sum (I once was what you are, you will be what I am)

Graviora Manent (heavier things remain / the worst is yet to come)

Haec Olim Meminisse Iuvabit (one day, this will be pleasing to remember)

Hic Mortui Vivunt (here the dead speak)

Hinc Illae Lacrimae (hence those tears)

Hodie Mihi, Cras Tibi (Today it's me, tomorrow it will be you - of death)

Iacate Et Scire (Be still and know)

In Ictu Oculi (in the blink of an eye)

In Somnis Veritas (in dreams there is truth)

Inter Spem Et Metum (between hope and fear)

Lapsus Memoriae (slip of memory)

Luctor, Non Mergor (I struggle, but am not overwhelmed)

Lux Ex Tenebris (light from darkness)

Media Vita In Morte Sumus (In the midst of our lives we die)

Memento Mori (remember that you will die)

Memento Vivere (remember to live)

Morior Invictus (I die unvanquished / death before defeat)

Mundus Senescit (the world grows old)

Nemini Parco (I spare no one - death)

Nitimur In Vetitum (we strive for the forbidden)

Non Ducor, Duco (I am not led; I lead)

Non Omnis Moriar (I shall not all die / part of me will survive beyond death)

Nunc Scio Quid Sit Amor (now I know what love is)

Oderint Dum Metuant (let them hate, so long as they fear)

Omnia Mutantur (everything changes)

Onus Probandi (burden of proof)

Opera Posthuma (posthumous works)

Ophidia In Herba (a snake in the grass)

Pax Aeterna (eternal peace - a common epitaph)

Primum Non Nocere (first do no harm)

Pulvis Et Umbra Sumus (we are dust and shadow)

Quis Leget Haec? (who will read this?)

Quod Periit, Periit (what Is gone is gone)

Res, Non Verba (deeds, not words)

Respice Finem (consider the end)

Scientia Et Sapientia (knowledge and wisdom)

Seculo Seculorum (forever and ever)

Sed Terrae Graviora Manent (but on earth, worse things await)

Si Vis Pacem Para Bellum (if you want peace, prepare for war)

Sic Infit (so it begins)

Sic Vita Est (such is life)

Silentium Est Aureum (silence is golden)

Sine Nomine (without a name / author unknown)

Sola Dosis Facit Venemum (the dose makes the poison)

Solvitur Ambulando (it is solved by walking / simple tests find solutions)

Stamus Contra Malum (we stand against evil)

Succisa Virescit (cut down, we grow back stronger)

Sum Quod Eris (I am what you will be - of death)

Summum Bonum (the supreme good)

Summum Malum (the supreme evil)

Sunt Lacrimae Rerum (there are tears for things)

Sunt Omnes Unum (they are all one)

Tabula Rasa (blank slate)

Transire Benefaciendo (to travel along while doing good)

Tu Fui Ego Eris (I was you; you will be me - of death)

Ubi Amor, Ibi Dolor (where there is love, there is pain)

Ultima Forsan (perhaps the last / sundial quote "perhaps your last hour")

Usque Ad Finem (until the end / fight to the death)

Vi Et Animo (with heart and soul)

Victoria Aut Mors (victory or death)

Vincit Qui Patitur (he conquers who endures)

Vita Ante Acta (a life done before - of reincarnation)

Vivere Militare Est (to live is to fight)

Vox Clamantis In Deserto (the voice of one crying in the wilderness)

There are also some longer ones that may not make good titles because of their length, but are still worth inclusion:

Aut Simul Stabunt Aut Simul Cadent (they will either stand together or fall together)

Flectere Si Nequeo Superos, Acheronta Movebo (if I can not reach Heaven I will raise Hell)

Forsan Et Haec Olim Meminisse Iuvabit (perhaps even these things will be good to remember one day)

Igitur Qui Desiderat Pacem, Praeparet Bellum (therefore whoever desires peace, let him prepare for war)

In Regione Caecorum Rex Est Luscus (in the land of the blind, the one-eyed man is king)

Minus Malum Toleratur Ut Maius Tollat (choose the lesser evil so a greater evil may be averted)

Quem Deus Vult Perdere, Dementat Prius (whom the gods would destroy, they first make mad)

Ubi Sunt, Qui Ante Nos Fuerunt? (Where are they, those who have gone before us?)

Virtus Junxit Mors Non Separabit (that which virtue unites, let not death separate)

[highladyjane]

The assault at Sangravah happened in early ACOMAF (before Elain's existence even came into picture for Azriel - 3 days before he even got to meet Feyre)... So I don't get how G and Az are supposed to be mates when he's had all that time to feel something?

There's the parallel of Rhys' father feeling his mating bond snap into place the moment he met his mother being assaulted.

"One look at her, and he knew what she was..." (ACOMAF, ch. 16)

Or Rhys himself feeling the bond when Feyre was being tortured by Amarantha...

"And I knew as I picked up that knife to kill her... I knew right then what you were. I knew right then that you were my mate." (ACOMAF, ch. 54)

Or Cassian simply meeting Nesta. "Say what I've guessed from the moment we met" he breathed. What I knew from the first time I kissed you. What became unbreakable between us on Solstice night." (ACOSF, ch. 62)

Bonus from Nesta: “‘From the moment I met you, I wanted you more than reason. From the moment I saw you in my house, you were all I could think about. And it terrified me. No one had ever held such power over me."

Or even Lucien after Elain was Made and maybe even while being thrown into the Cauldron... I don't even need a quote for them, but even Lucien knew and has tried seeking Elain out after the incident.

It's stated in the books and shown again and again that it's the males who are deeply affected by the mating bond. That they can know from the moment they meet. They all in one way or another sought after the females. Even Nesta and Feyre felt something before they knew or opened themselves up to it. And since they all met - They. Couldn't. Stay. Away.

But there's like... no hint of it from Az after stumbling upon G? Like he just literally stumbles upon her - never actually even actively seeking her out through all those years? He hasn't even actively tried to stay away? He's just... *crickets*

It's been Gwyn making noises and attracting his attention through all their scenes together. It was Gwyn asking for dagger lessons. It was 'Gwyn' making Az the new ribbon (whatever that means). And it's Az's shadows reacting to Gwyn, not Az himself. But there's no real hint that Gwyn feels anything romantic for him. There's barely any interactions between them without linking it to her assault in Sangravah and her growth from it.

Besides Az's shadows reacting to G, and that ribbon moment that everyone deems so pivotal when Az realises what it means for the Valkyries (that he's had a hand in training) and maybe even reflects upon Gwyn's character development and therefore what the ribbon means for Gwyn - which made me feel proud too, and that's how I interpreted it - but I can't see an undeniable sign of it being a mating bond anywhere.

I thought at first that mayhaps he was giving her space because of the assault, but then the BC came and he went "It was too late to bank without appearing like he was running," and then "He wouldn't go so far as to call Gwyn a friend,". (ACOSF, Azriel's Bonus Chapter)

Let's not even mention the part where Gwyn was actually in danger (no matter how capable she was at that point), while Cassian was going ballistic at Nesta being in danger, but Az is all like "Let's go save Eris". Eris who both he and Cassian hates. Eris who Az himself nearly killed during the HLs' pre-war meeting (before he exhibited actual mate behaviour and sought and risked his life to save Elain who's not even his mate). But no, he gave just as much or even less action and reaction about Gwyn as Tamlin gave when Feyre was UTM.

And I was like...

How are they mates? Where's the mate behaviour every male - mated or not - in Prythian has exhibited throughout the books? Why did I keep seeing things about them being mates and endgame?

The only hint between them that I could even begin to consider it from is the second to last sentence in Az's BC.

"But Azriel tucked away the thought, consciously erasing the slight smile it brought to his face. Buried the image down deep, where it glowed quietly."

But I basically have the same interpretation about that as this post from @merymoonbeam. (Although I'm still neutral about the lightsinger theory, it's the most interesting take.)

Because again.

Why hasn't Azriel felt/shown anything or actively sought her out or even actively stayed away if he's known Gwyn since Sangravah?

If they're mates, shouldn't he have felt and shown something - like that glow - and Gwyn be the one to snap him out of his 'love' for Mor before he even had the chance to meet Elain? If he's just lonely and jealous of his brothers having mates then... Why has he barely noticed or sought out Gwyn who's supposed to be his mate?

What, he had to wait until his shadows reacted to her to even think about her?

I'm not an expert at analysing things - I wouldn't even say I'm good at interpreting things especially when I've got my rose-tinted glasses on, so/but I'm always open to being wrong and changing my mind accordingly.

But/so convince me with actual canon and not just your biased opinions, delusions, self-insertions, or ships.

[hauntinglyhaunted]

Creepypasta Headcanons!

(Jeffery Woods, Eyeless Jack, Toby Rogers.)

Starting off with our crispy himself!

Jeffery Woods:

I actually believe he'd be moderately okay with self care (with the exception of showering, because he's gross 🧍)

Like, he def keeps different kinds of lotions to help hydrate his burn scars (I'm projecting ikik) and has a variety of different scents.

I actually think he doesn't have a strict preference for what kind of music he listens to, but tends to listen to heavy metal or older emo music.

Def listens to ICP. You can't change my mind.

I actually heavily headcanon him as someone that'll pick at his skin, specifically the skin on his fingers/hands. It's a bad habit that he has tried (and failed) to shake off.

Drinks monster/energy drinks like its WATER.

He's the type of guy to point at someone's concert shirt and ask them to name 3-5 songs

Eyeless Jack:

Out of any of the pastas, I believe he'd be the best when it comes to self care-- Considering the idea of him originally wanting to be a surgeon.

Carries hand sanitizer with him EVERYWHERE.

I believe he has a habit of over washing his hands and is constantly using hand sanitizer.

He has sensitive hearing from his heightened senses, so I believe he'd keep earplugs on him 24/7

Tried to prepare organs like someone would a sandwich, he regretted that.

The type of guy that doesn't pick up on humor. You quote something online around this guy and he'll just take it as you being dead serious.

Tried to eat human food so he could feel "normal" again, but it made him sick. Still tries it every now and then, but it can result in him just curled up on the floor. Think of how some people that are lactose intolerant will still eat dairy (you know who you are 🙄)

In some med schools, it's actually preferred to know a second language (that could also just be where I live, so 🚶) and I actually believe he knows bits of Spanish.

Parts of his life before the sacrifice is actually a major blur for him, it's like looking through a fog for him.

Hates the smell of mint.

I feel like he mainly uses echolocation. Or if he could "see" anything, it would probably be like seeing the temperature of something

Example:

Bro constantly cold. It could be the middle of July and he'd probably be LAYERED up. Long sleeves, hoodies, etc.

Toby Rodgers:

Chews. His fingers, the scar on his cheek, dead skin on his lips, he just chews.

Unironically wears socks and sandals

Due to high levels of stress, I like to think he'd have white steaks/patches in his hair. :]

Tried to give himself a piercing once, it didn't work out. It scarred.

Either Midwest emo or grunge, you can't change my mind!

Has listened to the front bottoms (father...) and the mountain goats.

Listens to Nirvana sometimes. 👏

Due to his trauma, he prefers to not drive or ride in the passenger seat. He either forces himself to sleep or zones out SOOOO hard.

Since he can't go get his hair cut professionally for obvious reasons, some of his hair is uneven since he doesn't know how to cut it properly.

Toby doesn't like sweetened coffee, he either drinks it black or eats instant coffee because "it works faster"

He regretted this.

Got my first ACTUAL post down! Hope you guys like it! Tried to keep it lighthearted since it's a starter. I take requests btw. :]

[dean-winchester-is-a-warrior]

Saints Are Sinners Too

Summary: Y/N has some confessing to do.

Warnings/Explicit 18+: Smut - this is just all smut. Pretty much zero plot to this porn. Blowjob, face fucking, deep throating, rough fingering, spanking (very minor).

** This fic is about Priest!dean and Nun!reader. They're undercover, and not actual members of the clergy. Nevertheless, it's probably obvious that there is a LOT of sacrilegious imagery, dialogue and situations in this one. So, be warned. **

Pairings: Priest!Dean Winchester x Nun!reader

Word Count: 1,427

A/N: This fic came about as a response to this post, and this post. It will also be used to fill my first square on my @jacklesversebingo card. The square I will be filling is "Does it turn you on that we might get caught?" The quote will be bolded in the fic. Hope you all enjoy my smutty offering.

Gotta go confess now. 😁

The beautiful divider at the bottom was created by @talesmaniac89. Title card above and gif below were created by me.

“Forgive Me Father, I’m about to sin.”

“Y/N?” Dean’s surprised whisper came through the thin wall that separated the priest from the petitioner. 

“Nope, I’m just a sinner here in need of forgiveness.”

“What the hell are you doing here?” Dean asked. 

Seconds later, Y/N opened the door to his side of the confessional and walked into the incredibly small, crowded space. 

He frowned up at her as she shut the door behind her, dimming the light inside the tiny box once again. “You’re supposed to be searching the rectory for the bone of a saint. And I can’t very well get confessions of evil out of our would-be suspects if you’re in here with me.”

Y/N pulled a little bag out of a hidden pocket within her borrowed nun’s habit. Inside the bag was a small white bone. “Got it already.” She said, turning mischievous eyes on him. “What about you? Heard any sinful confessions?”

Dean shook his head. “No, just a couple old ladies confessing to cheating at bingo, and getting drunk on church wine.”

Y/N snickered and then sank to her knees between Dean’s open legs, biting her lip as she reached out and pushed aside his black jacket before popping open the button on his pants. Dean’s expression was equal parts lust and worry. “Y/N, what are you doing?”

“Confessing my sins, Father.”

“Y/N, we can’t do this here, they’ll - “ Dean’s words trailed off into a moan as Y/N pulled down his zipper and stuck her hand inside to grip him through his underwear..

“Shh.” Y/N admonished. “Gotta keep quiet or they’ll hear you.”

“Y/N.” Dean tried again, but she pulled his briefs down far enough to let his hardening cock spring free, and he bit into his lush bottom lip to stifle another groan. 

“Don’t you wanna hear my confession?” Y/N asked, her voice and expression all innocence. 

Dean nodded absently, all his attention focused on not yelling out loud as she sucked one of his balls into her mouth and rolled it around on her tongue. She gave the same attention to the other one before licking a stripe up the underside of his cock.

Dean’s hard fingers were dug deep into the padded bench he was sitting on, and the veins in his neck bulged as he strained to stay quiet.

“My confession, Father, is that I’ve been lusting after you all day. Since the second I walked into the motel room this morning and saw you dressed like this, all I’ve been able to think about was this moment. All I’ve wanted is to get on my knees and show you heaven.”

With that she took him all the way down her throat, swallowing him in one go. Dean sank his hand into her hair and yanked it. “Fuck, Y/N, fuck.” He whispered, strained and desperate. 

Y/N came off of him, breathing hard, cum and spit running down her chin. She used her mouth to spread it up and down his dick before taking him in her hand, squeezing tight and pumping him hard. She watched his jaw clench, as he breathed harshly through his teeth, and she felt her panties flood. 

Her voice was thick as she reached under the black skirts she wore and rubbed herself over the damp cotton. “Does it turn you on that we might get caught? Hmm?” She asked as she kitten-licked the angry, purplish head of his straining cock. “Is it making you hard to know there’s only a thin door keeping us from being seen? That any minute someone could walk into the booth and see us through that partition.”

She nodded up at the open wicker grating that allowed light to seep in from the other side of the confessional. With jerky movements, Dean reached over to yank closed the tiny curtain that covered the window.

Y/N chuckled darkly. “That’s not gonna help much.” She said, gently squeezing his balls and making another harsh and entirely too loud moan leak out of Dean’s beautiful lips. 

“Please Y/N, goddamn.” He mumbled nonsensically, sweat dotting his forehead as Y/N pushed down on him again, taking him completely, but gagging a bit this time. “Fuck.” Dean cried out hoarsely as he took her head between his hands. She looked up at him from where she was sunk onto his cock, and saw the desperate question for her in his eyes. 

“Mmhmmm.” She answered around him, knowing what he was asking, her mouth watering in anticipation.

Gripping her head tightly, he pulled her back, so she only kept the tip of him between her lips. Then he hammered his hips forward, fucking her face hard and deep. Over and over he hit the back of her throat raising a gluck, gluck sound as she choked around him. He pulled out of her mouth completely and she pulled harsh breaths into her abused throat. 

They weren’t being very quiet anymore, but she couldn’t care. She hoped the booth was far enough away, and the soft organ music playing over the church speakers would drown them out at least a little. But she was too far gone to stop, whatever the consequences. 

She continued to work her clit as Dean began ravaging her face once again. When he pushed deep down her throat, she slipped two fingers inside herself and stared up at him, rapturously. His broad, powerful chest was heaving as he fought off his climax. His lips formed an O and he pushed air between them harshly, desperately trying to control himself. 

Finally, he pushed on the back of her head so that she was smashed tight against him, every inch of his thick cock filled her mouth and stretched her esophagus. Then his face contorted and he was spilling down her throat, fast and hot. She swallowed around his cock, trying to gulp it all down, but she couldn’t and as he pushed her off of him so she could breathe again, she coughed hard, spit and cum spilling down her chin and onto the habit she wore. Still breathing harshly, Dean grabbed her upper arms and wrenched her up off the floor. Barely managing it in the tiny space, he swapped places with her so that she was now standing in front of the bench. 

Rather than sitting her down on it, however, Dean spun her around so she faced the back wall of the confessional and pushed against her back, forcing her to bend over. Seconds later he had her black skirts rucked up around her waist and her panties down around her ankles. Y/N just barely managed to stifle a shrill scream of pleasure as he sank two fingers deep into her cunt. He fucked her hard with them, pulling out of her only once to give two loud and stinging slaps to her bare ass.

She moaned deep, long past caring about being found out as he buried his fingers, three of them this time, back into her slick and throbbing pussy. He was knuckle deep and then he pulled out and shoved them back inside again, rocketing his fingers into her body hard enough that the little box surrounding them shook slightly. 

He knew she was incredibly close; all he had to do was press his fingers against the secret sweet spot he knew how to find every time. He pressed there and Y/N gulped air into her lungs for a scream, but he took his free hand and clamped it over her mouth just in time. Her slick cunt clenched powerfully around his fingers at the same time that she bit into the palm of his hand in an attempt to lessen the noise of her climax. Dean gritted his teeth as he buried his face in the side of her neck.

Her body shuddered and shook as her high ebbed away. Dean pulled his hand out of her body, dropping her skirts back down and pulling his pants back up, before shifting them both slightly so that she was sitting in his lap. They put their foreheads together and shared breath as they tried to stop their hearts from hammering.

Dean smiled at her and licked his lips. “Well, son of a bitch, sweetheart - you’re absolved.” Y/N snorted and grinned at the dubious pardoning. Dean frowned quizzically and looked around the itty bitty wooden box. 

“Now, do you know a back way out of this place?”

1 - Jensen RPF + Any/All characters Jensen plays. @lyarr24 @deans-spinster-witch @impalaslytherin @maggiegirl17 @akshi8278 @candy-coated-misery0731 @deanswaywardgirl @slytherinlyn314 @globetrotter28 @jensensgirl @perpetualabsurdity @tristanrosspada-ackles @djs8891 @muhahaha303 @kayyay1219 @emily-winchester @recoveringpastaaddict @maximumkillshot @mimaria420 @sacriceria @envyaurora95 @lacilou @jc-winchester @spnwoman @mimi-luvzyu

2 - Dean Winchester Fics Only. @carryonwaywardgirl

3 - Any/All Fics (regardless of fandom/character.) @kazsrm67 @sexyvixen7 @alexxavicry @nancymcl @spalady26

4 - Everything (includes fan vid/DOOL edits as well) @unabashed-lover-of-fictional-men @maliburenee @supernatural4life2022 @spn730015 @kickingitwithkirk @waywardbaby @foxyjwls007 @deanwanddamons @deandreamernp @deanwithscissors @myloversgone @snowlovespie @leigh70 @all-alone-he-turns-to-stone @charred-angelwings @hopefuldreamers-world @jensensgotyoudean @thoughts-and-funnies @magssteenkamp @princessmisery666 @eevvvaa @mishkatelwarriorgoddess @waynes-multiverse @mrsjenniferwinchester @bernasaurus @jensenslady79 @courtn92 @avanatural @ellie-andthemachine @this-is-me19 @roseblue373 @katbratsupernaturalwhore @fanfic-n-tabulous

[junesprince]

im sorry if someone has pointed these out already but i replayed p5t again and i am in absolute SHAMBLES with these new observations. i never actually post my thoughts here but i kinda need people to talk to about p5t IM AUTISTIC AND HYPERFIXATED. anyway onto the real post, sorry if this is unorganized and messy. im just really excited

i really wanna talk about the whole event that happens in the 3rd kingdom, on the rooftop.

soo.. when the school crashes and transforms.. it resembles a clock. a train station??? and. said clock is unmoving. what struck me is the time it was stuck on. 6:00pm, or 18:00, the exact time The Train Incident (tm) takes place, and the exact time eri was pushed onto the train tracks at the station.

i guess you could say, toshiro is stuck in the past, unable to move on and process his trauma. it's the extreme guilt of him losing his closest friend and how standing up and rebelling... just ended up in so many people hurt. he can't possibly live bearing the sin of that.

but here's when it gets more interesting... when shadow toshiro was threatening to kill erina, and when erina/eri inspired toshiro to take a stand, he throws joker's knife through the shadows hand, but more specifically, through the gloved hand, the one damaged from the train.

then with a really good sequence, toshiro runs as fast as he possibly can (i wonder how he did that actually) and with flashing memories of him failing to save eri in between, he manages to catch erina before she falls. and... he catches her with his damaged hand. the same hand that failed to save eri, saved erina.

remember the clock from the beginning? it STARTS MOVING AGAIN right after this.

this whole scene is genuinely such a beautiful and symbolistic way to show that toshiro finally found his resolve, and that despite all that trauma in the past, he's ready to change for the better and move again.

oh, and one more thing. toshiros mask only has one eye shown. the left one... the one that eri lost. they have ONE EYE EACH AAAAGHHH!! their souls really are connected.

what gets me more is that one of toshiros catchphrases in combat iirc is "witness OUR power as ONE" and it makes me go insane because he basically sees eri as his hero (here ill quote a futaba dialogue that hit me hard: "natsuhara's like the undefeated heroine in toshiro's life story, huh?") and she made him feel like he's more than just a puppet of his father. she inspired him to take a stand, and while this resulted badly, it led to his LITERAL SOUL subconsciously manifesting into a being heavily based on her (erina)

he just believes that eri/erina is a huge part of who he is. so "witness our power as one"

the fact he doesn't have a real PT outfit disappoints me a bit, but id like to think it's because eri taught him that he doesn't need to become all cool and change himself to rebel. he just needs to be himself. that's really it.

some extra things i have noticed:

-shadow toshiros 'weapon' is basically just bandages. i first thought this was a twisted more distorted version of the bandages eri gave toshiro when they first met (since shadow toshiro claims to despise eri)?? but someone in yt comments pointed out its probably made from eri's bandages after the incident. and i think that makes much more sense

-toshiro is the only persona user that has a persona opposite of his gender... that's kinda... 🏳️‍⚧️ if you ask me...heh (im trans)

-i know many know already but erinas character design is GENIUS . like ... the covered eye and the prosthetic leg?? referencing eri?? SO FUCKING WELL DONE. genuinely one of my fav character designs in persona

-not really an observation but remember the 'thank you instead of sorry' hideout talk where toshiro tells the gang about eri more?? when it was finished and toshiro said "natsuhara-senpai...um, thank you." IT TORE MY HEART STRINGS STOOOPPP

-idk im kinda unnormal about eritoshi. that's all

[the-black-bulls]

Realization of the Day:

(⚠ huge manga spoilers for anime only below)

Yami is an actually pretty darn tragic character if you take five mins to think about it and take a good look at his history; I managed a quote based on this as a joke here, but he's indeed covered nearly every sad and tragic backstory trope in the book.

Let's see... he lost his mother who died from childbirth when he's 5-6 years old, and spent the better part of his childhood on pointless and intense training by his abusive, sexist, daughter-beater, war obsessed father; and then at the age of 13 said father forced a freaking drug on his baby sister and Yami had to witness the massacre of their clan by her hand before he took down his father for once and all to protect her before he stopped her and held the weight of all her crimes on his shoulders and left his hometown to never return again.

Then... he shipwrecked, barely surviving death, on an unwelcoming land and suffered from language barrier, culture shock, xenophobia and about every typical "Why Clover Kingdom is the Worst Kingdom in the World" key point, all lasted for two years until he turned 15 and recieved his grimoire, but prior and shortly after to it Yami was pretty much on his own with no one else to rely on or a home to return to.

The... things got better, no? He met the Faust Bros, he met Julius, he was offered a roof to sleep under and a chance to start fresh; 15 years lad who's already suffered a lot but ready to live and learn against all the odds with Nacht as his partner in crime and Morgen as his best friend... and then they both got screwed up years later when Yami, at the age of 18, wasn't around, so he only got to face the loss through a visit to the latter's grave while the former grieved his brother's death, and Yami never stopped smoking ever since.

It was right then and there when Yami decided, enough's enough, and promised to create a squad that became a home for the unlucky who shared some of Yami's experience in his past, be it the abusive family, lost of a beloved one, crippling loneliness, crime burdens, being unfit to the norms, and the list goes on. My favorite example is a threeway tie between Noelle, who is pretty much Ichika if Ichika didn't have an amazing brother, and Gauche, whose first meeting with Yami makes a hell lot of sense now that we know Yami also had a sister he threw his life for her sake, and finally Nero, who will never be able to return to her old life and is fairly content about it because she's too loyal to the person she loves to cry over homesickness.

Yami has been there, done that, experienced those, and is still going through some TraumaWorthyBullshit™ right now, and while he rarely shows negative signs of what he's been through, I like to think that he offers the Black Bulls what he always wanted to be offered.

That, by accepting them and letting them live however they want, but above all, by giving them a safe place to belong to.

In short, the Black Bulls is Yami's way to deal with the bullshit that's his lifetime worth of trauma. Thank you for coming to my ted talk.