#idk maybe ill be proven wrong who knows

[mikoran]

one thing im a little worried about with season five is that were only just going to be getting mikes side of things, and as a result people might see it as shoved on at the end to make him seem sympathetic

a lot of people dont like mike because of his behavior the past two seasons, and i cant blame them when his behavior has been framed differently then the characters were meant to sympathize with— people dont get upset with el for lying to mike and hiding things from him because were shown her perspective, and were able to understand why she acted that way. this applies to a lot of the characters aside from el, too. but because we havent seen any explicit explanation for mikes behavior yet (or like any of his pov in ages), hes just left a bad taste in a lot of peoples mouths, and hes been written off as an asshole with little rational or understandable reasoning for his actions. and im worried that revealing a bunch of stuff in the final season isnt gonna be enough to change some peoples minds, and everyone is gonna see it as tacked on last second or done in a last ditch effort to make him liked by the audience again

[valberryelixier]

Mad for you

Dottore thought that no one could outrank him in his insanity and experiments but you proved him wrong.

( random fic bcs i want to feel smart 💜💜 and dottore supremacy always )

AND SRY IF ITS OOC IDK HOW TO WRITE DOTTORE- HIS PERSONALITY IS JUST 😍 AND LIKE HIS CONFIDENCE- SMT ILL NEVER HAVE 😃😃

.

.

How would he even begin? You were certainly a unique specimen in his eyes. He watched you in your akademiya days, creating life out of inanimate objects, even harnessing the power of the abyss unaffected.

What were you? A god?

He despised you. He despised the way everyone liked you, or maybe it was respect or even fear but the power you held over the akademiya, pulling strings in the background and eradicating anyone who opposed you with ease and secrecy, you were unbeatable.

How could someone have everything? Charm, intellect and even beauty. Her personality was of course just a facade to hide her true nature, he thought.

He knew you werent the persoj you created ik public when he saw you perfectly executed and picked apart living beings so casually. Even humming along to a tune he'll never forget.

Dottore thought you were the epitome of perfection, so he didn't understand your goal which was to create the perfect human, one that could surpass gods in all manners. Why would you need to when you exist?

When he was expelled from the akademiya, he hated how you werent just because more people liked you. It hurt his ego, how someone else was "better" than him.

Years past and your impression had left a permanent mark on him, he wished to see you again. He was longing for an interaction with you no matter how brief or frivolous. You were never even close in the akademiya besides being lab partners.

So what was this feeling?

A weakness, he thought

He could not afford to feel these things but he knew even in the deepest trench of his cold unfeeling heart he could never harm you. You were far too important.

.

"Lord Dottore, a guest from afar is here to see you"

You found him before he found you

"Hm? Bring her in" he knew who it was, but your intentions remained a mystery.

You entered his office, full of test tubes and papers. Some jars filled with "specimens" and a bright blue vial. It was neater than you expected.

"To what do i owe the pleasure y/n" his voice sounding hoarse yet amused

" i'll keep it brief, i want a collaboration, us as equal partners. Im sure you'd be interested in this and besides you're the most suitable person for this experiment."

He looked at you, just stared at you for a while like he was trying to read through you. But what you didn't know was that he would oblige, no matter what experiment it was. It wasnt the research he was interested in, it was you.

But he tried to hide his true emotions so he laughed, his usual maniacal laugh, one that was proven to be deathly to others but not you. "And what exactly makes you think i'd be interested?"

" because we could surpass gods, with my finding. Create a world of our own full of humans that will obey our every command "

He lifted his eyebrows, he truly was interested now, not only you but your finrings too. He understood the meaning laced in your words. He understood that he had to betray the tsaritsa but that was an easy choice, it was his plan anyways.

But his ego wouldnt ever let him give in that easily. He stepped around his desk and leaned towards you with his condescending smile.

"Hm? From what i understand, id be losing a lot from this collaboration, so if you want my help, beg for it"

You weren't one to beg, you had too much pride to go down on your knees and beg him just to satisfy his ego. So you went to your last resort.

You lunged towards him in hoped of immobilizing him to have him in your mercy instead of the opposite. But he was far quicker and stronger than you, using his sword to clash yours in such power that it pushed you to the nearest wall.

" such a pity, you used to be far more powerful i suppose sentiments really are a weakness "

Whatever you felt certainly wasn't right, how could you feel so aroused when your life was on the line. Maybe it was the fact that you knew he would do no harm to you but that's never a certainty. Dottore is a really unpredictable man.

So unpredictable that you didnt realize he leaned in, hie lips touching yours, biting your lips and his hands pressed both sides of your cheeks, to let his tounge in. But why did you kiss him back?

It lasted longer than you would like to admit and as he released you from his grip he smirked, that insolent smirk. He kicked your legs apart and you lost your balance, falling to the ground, On your knees as you stared up at him.

"My my~ what a sight to behold. Such a powerful mind bowing down to me. I suppose i'll consider your offer afterall"

[astonmartinii]

F1 ASKS!

i saw this tag floating around and wanted to let yall get to know me better since i’ve been doing this a while and have only really spoken in the form of authors notes! also im not going to tag anyone so just do it if you wanna!

who is your favourite driver?

i think for anyone who has read anything i’ve ever written it’s probably a bit obvious but max verstappen! what can i say little me was told we’re supporting red bull and here was this little charmer (emphasis on little who let that child get into an F1 car)

do you have other favourite drivers?

also based on my writing you can probably tell that my top three are max, charles and oscar! however, i will also say that alex is a close fourth for me (he’s also very nice irl). also as for retired drivers i think the mamma mia series is a bit of a spoiler but i love jenson, seb and kimi

who is your least favourite driver?

i used to say i didn’t dislike anyone on the grid - that was a lie. i’ll still write for anyone within reason but you can also probably tell with how in detail the back and forth is on certain pieces that i am really not a fan of sainz, actually people who get yelled at while i write them would argue it’s more than “not really being a fan of” but i am fake and i have maintained that if i meet him at silverstone (which i very nearly did last year) ill tell him im his biggest fan! also not the biggest fan of like pierre he’s just kinda there for me and a wee bit too cringey ALSO what you may not be able to guess from how i write him… im not really a fan of lando! ive really, really tried especially after his win but he just kinda rubs me the wrong way (i was immediately proven right with the trump comments lol). people say i should pull for him cause he’s from bristol which is where i live but he’s from glastonbury babe - also ive done a few swimming competitions at the school he went to a WOAH baby has so much money.

do you pull for drivers or do you like teams as well?

i mostly pull for drivers but like i guess i like red bull? well i did. i love max so i would follow him everywhere but i did like red bull as well as a team (i like alex, danny and checo so that also helps) but this whole protection of christian horner shtick is really disappointing so id say im a driver person.

if you like teams, who do you pull for?

like i said red bull were the team id pick if i HAD to follow a team - i support chelsea so i cant handle even more disappointment if i followed ferrari and also i only like charles there and they’re the source of all of his misfortune so …

how long have you been into F1?

so my family has always been into F1, my cousin karts and my uncle is a mechanic and makes karts on the side but i had always been more into football cause i could actually go to that with my dad - and also for young me who didn’t know what the fuck a strategy was it seemed kinda boring. but i’d say from maybe 2016ish i started watching it more regularly (hence the max stanship). my mum loves it and her first love in the sport was mark webber which is why we like red bull. but yeah i remember watching max’s first win and was like MUM I WANT THAT ONE (and i have technically met him? idk we made eye contact when his taxi nearly ran over my foot)

what got you into F1?

my mum! i love her and she’s just as much a passionate fan (and hater when appropriate) so it’s a nice thing to do together - especially because me and my dad are season ticket holders at chelsea so spend a lot of time together doing that so this is like my sport time with my mum (along with the olympics that’s our shit we’re very excited for the swimming). so i guess it was being around her watching it and listening to her and my dad argue about it! my mum is an ardent seb supporter and my dad is like a twitter account away from being in teamLH so canada 2018 (2019?) was VERY entertaining. also my uncle loves it so he likes that im proper into it (like have a sports journalism degree) and so we always chat about it - he’s trying to recruit me into motogp next

do you enjoy fanfic/RPF?

i mean i’ve written so much i must love it. lol jokes i do enjoy it and i feel like it helps me like people more (case in point: when i was trying to make myself enjoy the lando win i just read my own fics of him LOL)

but also its something fun to do that’s also creative and has helped me make new friends from all over

how do you view new fans?

ugh i hate the hate new fans get like not everyone can be born into loving a sport? if anything the more people that watch and love the sport the more money it’ll make? idk this whole superiority complex some fans have is just so unneeded for the sport and we all know why is majorly directed at girls. i do fear that some of the new fan behaviours could border on worrying - waiting outside hotels and ambushing drivers is stalking actually!

but overall im always happy to have new people in a sport - a bigger community is always good and new fans bring new perspectives which is good as older fans may just be desensitised to “normal” things in the sport but new eyes can remind them - hey halos are the best thing to happen to F1 and red flags in heavy rain are necessary.

if you could take over as any team principal for any team who would it be and why?

i know i previously dunked on ferrari but there needs to be an intervention because my girly max already has three championships and i need charles to get at least one so i can die happy - then ill move to mclaren, kick zak brown up the ass get a piastri championship and bounce (honourary race with willams or whatever team alex is with cause i need all three 2019 rookies to be race winners)

are your friends and family into F1 as well?

i feel like my other answers answered this but yeah! i also recently reconnected with an old primary school friend who is also really into it. i went to a sports uni so basically everyone there liked it as well (which means me and a friend did trek to the F1 arcade at 4am to watch aus 23 where she had a public meltdown over sainz (i enjoyed it)). also ive made a couple friends through working at races!

are you open to talking to other fans/making friends?

i always am! i am a year out of uni and working from home with all my home friends still at uni after taking gap years so i am big time lonely so always feel free to slide into my messages!

[mikathemonster]

Hello! I saw your 'pick a prompt' post, and if its not to late i'd like to request Number 3 from the situation prompt with Kili

Have a good day and make sure to stay hydrated!

"signing my life away"

author's note: OH MY GOD I'M SO GLAD SOMEONE FINALLY REQUESTED THIS ONE IT'S MY FAVORITE!!! I've been dying to write something for this prompt in particular, so I'm so glad you requested it <3 (definitely wrote this while having covid so I made reader get sick so I could relate to something lol) maybe i’ll even write a second part to this? idk yet

Pairing: Kíli / Gender-Neutral Human Reader

Word Count: 3,246

summary: being a scribe-for-hire is easy. a scribe for a dwarven prince? not so much, especially when he drives you insane.

content warnings: illness (it’s a cold), kinda enemies to lovers??, regular Kíli shenanigans

DO NOT REPOST OR COPY. MINORS/AGELESS BLOGS DO NOT INTERACT.

Two weeks. Two whole weeks and you already wanted to quit your job as a scribe-for-hire. But of course, the grand kingdom of Erebor had other plans for you in mind. Other plans that seemed to come in the form of two equally-annoying princes.

Of course, they hadn’t bothered you much when you had first arrived at the Lonely Mountain. No, for your first week had proven quite fruitful and lovely, with most of your work coming from the commissions of young dwarrowdams who wished to court their fancies with letters proclaiming their love. It was something you easily found yourself enjoying, being a romantic yourself. It was also through these commissions that word spread like wildfire of your services. And that fire had seemed to blaze even brighter to the two dwarven princes of Erebor.

Fíli and Kíli, you had come to know, were quick to approach you after only being in Erebor for a week and a half. For the price of following them around at will and answering any scribe-worthy commission they could think of for the next month, they had offered to completely furnish and compensate your life while living in the dwarven kingdom. And how could you have said no to such an offer? You had barely come with enough wealth for yourself!

But soon you were finding yourself to have made a grave mistake. On days when Fíli wasn’t busy on diplomatic matters, he’d summon you for his daily walks where he’d muse about writing rude letters between his friends. At first, you thought the idea was amusing, albeit strange. You questioned his judgement, but nevertheless followed through with his requests, writing letters to people such as Dwalin, Bofur and Nori. At first, it didn’t seem to come to fruition of anything. But you were quickly proven wrong when suddenly you found yourself caught in the throng of a huge fight between such people who had come to Thorin for advice while he and Fíli had been lost in conversation. You had only one mental note from that day forward: never anger a dwarf. It seemed that Fíli, though mindful and royal as he was, had a propensity for wild discourse.

And his brother? Goodness me, he was even worse! Kíli, the youngest dwarven prince of Erebor, was a henchman of chaos himself. At times, it even reminded you of your own youth, though you could not recall being nearly as wild as this. His requests were similar to Fíli’s, but decidedly targeted his whiles to a more heightened scale. Rather than reducing himself to rude letters, he had commissioned you to write scandalous rumor articles that all surrounded a rather dangerous man to make an enemy out of: Thorin Oakenshield, King Under the Mountain. At first, you had refused; how could you do such a thing to the one person who could surely banish you from the entire kingdom? But reminding you quickly of your deal, Kíli had been quite insistent, and so you had no choice. And by the gods, you wished you hadn’t; Thorin couldn’t escape whispers and laughter in the halls for three entire days, much to your help! You were lucky he didn’t know who had written such things.

And thus came the conclusion to your first two weeks in Erebor. Only two weeks in, and you were already getting worried of how this new job of yours would reflect on your reputation, especially if you continued to entertain the endeavors of these two princes.

The next week grew to be a slight bit easier, but only when it came to Fíli, who found himself much too busy with princely matters than to find himself using you as an instrument for his grand pranks. You had hoped that through his busy schedule, you could avoid Kíli, but the youngest prince had quite the tenacity for hunting you down. Indeed, it seemed he couldn’t fathom the idea of leaving you alone, for your latest days had been spent with him following you around as he aimlessly threw about silly little ideas for equally insane writings. The same thing was occurring today as well, as you found yourself trying to meander out of the forges and to the library for some peace and quiet.

“Oh, and just think of what mess we could make of Bombur!” He grinned like a cat, and you thought him to be a child. “He’s so easy to rile up, he is. I bet we could even get Bofur in on it.”

“We?” You said, your voice dry. “Please do not make the mistake of binding me together with you. I’m merely doing a job that you paid me to do.”

“Aye, and what a wonderful job that is,” he said smiling, practically beaming at you as you bobbed and weaved through the various working stations of the ironsmiths. “I must start recommending you to others. Or perhaps I won’t, and keep you all to myself.”

You raised a brow at his comment, finding yourself irked. “I didn’t come here to stage pranks, I’ll have you know. I wish to be taken more seriously than simple games.”

“Games?” He mused, laughing. “Does the meaning of the word ‘fun’ escape you?”

This time you turned completely, stopping in your tracks to face him as the heat of the forge grew on your face. You were getting annoyed. It seemed Kíli could see this, and it seemed to only fuel his teasing. “I’m serious,” you said. “When I first arrived, I was writing wonderful love letters. Love letters! All you ever make me write are rude, childish things.”

“Love letters?” He said, his teasing expression dropping for a moment as curiosity replaced it.

“Yes, love letters!” You said. “And I was excited to establish my name on them! But now, I worry that all I’ll be known for are your stupid pranks.”

“Well, tell me more of these letters,” he said. “So that I may get to know your penmanship better.”

You scoffed, walking away. You were getting tired of this man who seemed to adore making fun of you. “Oh please, you don’t actually mean to entertain this conversation. For the last three days, all you’ve done is rile me up with these wild requests of yours! I won’t risk you sullying my name any longer, Kíli.”

“Sullying your name?” He said, chasing after you and out of the forges as you made a beeline for the libraries. “How have I done such a thing?”

You groaned into the air, turning quickly on your heel to seethe at him. Too quickly, mind you, as he clumsily fell right into you, leaving you both to tumble to the floor with a panicked gasp. You expected your head to meet the cold and hard marble of the floor, but found yourself surprised when it met Kíli’s hand, protecting you from the stone. For a moment, mostly out of shock from the moment, you looked at him to find him scanning your face for any sign of pain.

“Are you hurt?” He said, and soon you realized just the predicament you were in. His eyes were worried immensely, and for a second you almost forgot yourself. Almost.

“This is exactly what I mean,” you said with frustration. “First your brother makes me forge letters, then you have me writing scandals, and now we’re both lying on the floor on top of each other! What would someone think, should they see us?”

Seeing you were healthy enough to argue, he sighed, standing up and dusting himself off. “What a lucky dwarf?” He mused, offering his hand to help you up. You refused it, getting up and continuing your trek to the library. “Aw, come on, Y/N!” He called after you. “It was merely a jest!”

“Stop following me!” You said. “I don’t want to see you, and I would rather you leave than force me to resort to cheap tricks to get you to do so!”

“Cheap tricks?” He scoffed. “Of what kind?”

“You think you’re the only one who can think of witty writings? Well, think again,” you boasted. “Just think of the unsavory things I could write about you!” It seemed your threat did well to stop him in his tracks, for soon you stopped hearing his footsteps trailing from behind.

That was a week ago. One week since you blew up at a dwarven prince, one week since you had done any work as a scribe, and one week since the guilt of your attitude began to gnaw at your insides. You knew you had been too harsh; you should’ve just kindly rejected their offer, there had been no need for yelling. But then again, Kíli and his brother could’ve helped a great deal more if they had been more understanding. But how could they have been, anyways? You were a stranger to Erebor, they barely knew you! It seemed it was nobody’s current fault but your own, and the guilt of knowing that was becoming a bit too much.

You had originally planned on apologizing the day after it had happened, but had quickly found yourself sick with a cold; you summed it up to being some sort of penance. In that week, neither of the two dwarven princes had summoned you or requested your presence. A good thing, probably, as you needed the rest to recover, but you worried that it was your previous actions that had led to the halt of communication. Most unfortunate of all was your lack of friends in this new city; in all your time so far, you had been so busy with the princes (especially Kíli) that you hadn’t had much time for putting yourself out there. As a result, there was no one to check on your condition, leaving you to cough and sneeze and blow your nose alone in the silence of your home.

Hours passed by as you drew yourself a bath, weakly tried to clean your bed, and slept away to help your body recover. You weren’t even sure what time it was when you awoke from your nap, but a thin layer of sweat covered you as you tried to move some of the sheets off of you. You felt feverish, as if your body was on fire and ice all at the same time. You were so busy trying to keep yourself warm but not overheated that you hadn’t even heard the soft pounds on the door as you shivered into the bedsheets.

“Y/N?” A distant voice called, but you didn’t have the energy to answer; your voice felt hoarse, like sand. You barely even registered that you had heard it, chalking it up to sleep claiming you once again. And you were happy to give in, desperate even, as you knew your body needed rest.

Soon, your door opened, and a figure approached your side, their soft brown eyebrows furrowing in concern. It looked like Kíli, but there was no way it could be him. He hadn’t summoned you all week, what could’ve changed now? “Y/N,” he said, and you once again figured it to be a dream. “Oh Mahal, no wonder I couldn’t find you. Wait right here.”

He quickly left just as he had appeared, but when he returned, he was armed with a pitcher of water and a cloth. He soaked the cloth before placing it on your forehead, and soon you found it even harder to stay awake. “I’m fine,” you tried to croak out, feeling guilty for whatever poor soul was taking care of you.

“Nonsense, you’re burning up,” he said, refusing to leave your side. “Have you had anything to drink?”

“It’s just a cold,” you tried to explain, worried that you were becoming a burden to whoever this wonderful helper was. Still in your feverish state, you weren’t convinced it was Kíli, thinking him to be a figment of a dream. But the dream-helper wouldn’t relent, quickly pouring a glass of water as they tried to help you sit up in bed.

“Here, this will help,” he said, putting a pillow behind your head and lower back to support you as you now layed in bed on an incline. It certainly felt more comfortable to breathe, but the fever still prevailed and took over your mind. He brought a glass to your lips, and you gingerly opened your mouth as he poured some water into your mouth. It brought a sense of relief as you swallowed it down your throat, cooling you for but a moment. He continued this process of feeding you water until you had downed a third of the cup, which seemed enough to satisfy him as he set the cup down. “How long have you been sick?”

It was now that you were starting to figure that this wasn’t any dream; Kíli, son of Dís, master of your frustration, was taking care of you in your home. “A few days,” you said, your brow furrowing for a second as a cough escaped you. You wanted to ask him why he was here, why he was taking care of you, but words seemed like such a steep hill to climb when it came to your mountain of thoughts right now. Not to mention the fact that sleep was desperately trying to lay claim over your mind, as your eyes kept feeling heavier and heavier. Kíli spoke something else, possibly a question, but you couldn’t tell as you closed your eyes, letting sleep take over your body, the inky blackness calling you from the cooling relief of the cloth on your forehead.

When you next awoke, your room was just as black as your vision had been while you were sleeping; someone had put out the candles, and Kíli was nowhere to be found or seen. Even the cooling rag on your forehead was gone. For a moment, you wondered if him being there had been the dream itself, as some sort of fever-induced lucid dream. You felt your fever was no longer, your body much more at ease. Had it really all been a fever dream? You sat up in bed, feeling much better already as you squinted your eyes to try and peer about your dark room, but the absence of anyone did little to sway your mind. Perhaps it really had all been a dream, then…

But soft knocks on your door challenged that thought as you blinked away the last remnants of sleep. “Mm, come in,” you answered, running a hand through your hair as the door opened, letting a few slivers of light pool into the room. A worried Kíli entered your room, a candlestick  in one of his hands as he shut the door behind him. He came by your bedside as you sat up to meet him, questions still brewing in your head from before. But for now, you bit your tongue, curious as to whether or not he’d answer them himself first.

“How are you feeling?” He said, his eyes scanning your face intensely. You almost felt naked under his gaze, like he was looking into you from afar.

You cleared your throat, letting out a small cough. To this, he was quick to fetch you a glass of water. “Much better now,” you said. “I think my fever has passed, finally.” Gingerly, you took the glass, sipping from it with a skeptical heart.

“That’s good,” he said, nodding. “I’m glad to see you up again, I was worried you’d stay bedridden.”

“And why is that?” You asked, raising a brow. You still weren’t sure what to make of him suddenly taking care of you. He too seemed caught off guard by your question, but it seemed to be more from an obvious standpoint.

“I hadn’t seen you for a week, Y/N,” he said. “Fíli hadn’t heard anything from you. We were both worried something had happened.”

“Like what?” You asked.

He sighed, sitting on the side of your bed now, and you shifted to give him some room, sipping your water to get some fluids in your body. “When we last spoke, you had wished not to see me. You had said I was sullying your name… I was worried that you were right, and that someone had gotten to you from the letters.”

Now it was your turn to be caught off guard. “Are you serious?” You tried to hold back a snort. “Did you think me to be kidnapped? From writing rumors about your uncle being shorter than he says?” You couldn’t hold it back anymore, letting out a laugh. Who knew the wild prince was softer than he seemed.

Kíli’s ears turned red at your questions, now realizing he had jumped to conclusions. “Well, if it was anyone’s fault then it would be yours for putting such ideas in my head. Why would you call them silly if you were so angry about them then?”

You slowly started to settle back down. “They weren’t ideas, you know,” you said. “I meant what I said about refusing to write your ‘silly’ requests anymore. I won’t do it.”

“And I won’t make you, nor will Fíli,” he nodded. “Besides, Thorin keeps him busy enough these days.”

“So why did you stay?” You asked.

“What do you mean?” He said.

“So you thought I was kidnapped,” you said. “And you came to my home and found me sick. But instead of leaving, why did you care for me?”

He grew flustered again, deflecting the question. “Would you have preferred I leave you to rot in bed?”

“I was already doing that on my own, thank you.” You said. “But I wouldn’t think you’d offer to help so easily after our argument.”

“I wanted to apologize,” he admitted. “I felt guilty and wanted to see you back to health. A life for a lie.”

“It’s a life for a life,” you corrected. “And that’s not how the saying is used.”

“Fine, I’ll admit it. I was worried for you.” He looked away, running a hand through his hair before meeting your gaze again. “I didn’t want you to get worse.”

“I see,” you said, taking a breath. You bit the inside of your cheek, knowing you’d have to swallow your pride and admit what you didn’t want to. But you were bigger than your pettiness, at least in this moment you were. You reached your hand out to place it over his, which seemed to startle the poor dwarf as he looked at you with a wondrous gaze.

“Thank you for taking care of me,” you said. “And I’m sorry for what I said earlier. I shouldn’t have been so harsh, and I didn’t mean it when I said I’d write awful things about you.”

Now it was his turn to chuckle. “I’m surprised you hadn’t done so already,” he said.

“Well, I’ve been a little preoccupied,” you sighed. “But I’m serious about no longer writing pranks. I want to be taken more seriously, I deserve some respect.”

“You deserve much more than that, Y/N,” he said, and it made you lose your breath for a moment. Since when did his words steal your breath? “And I too would like to apologize. I won’t force you to write anything you don’t like any longer, so long as we remain friends.”

“Friends,” you smiled. “Yes, I’d like that.”

[yourdeepestfathoms]

idk if anyone else has said it yet, but i’m feeling bitter right now, so i will (also it’s just always bothered me)

has anyone else ever noticed the difference in fan opinions between Michael and Vanessa?

in many ways, they are VERY similar characters.

they’re both night guards, have been fucked over by William, killed kids, and barely actually show up in the games.

however, Michael is treated like a goddamn king by the fandom, while Vanessa barely gets scraps. she’s regarded as a bitch so often, is hated on constantly, and/or is sometimes flat out ignored or erased from stories entirely.

oh no! a woman is grumpy! she MUST be a bitch!

Vanessa isn’t a bitch. she’s an underpaid security guard that has her entire career on the line throughout the whole game. there’s a loose child in the Pizzaplex. she’s literally trying to do her damn job so she won’t get fired.

more than that, Vanessa is clearly under a severe amount of psychological stress. she’s being mind controlled by a serial child killer to murder people. you’re telling me you also wouldn’t be in a constant bad mood if that was your life?? and even if you don’t think Vanessa is Vanny, Vanessa STILL has mental health issues. that much is proven by the therapy tapes (i think it’s canon that she has depression and anxiety? and maybe PTSD? i can’t remember; it’s been awhile since i was hyperfixated on this game). god forbid a person, a woman no less, shows the negative aspects of their mental illness!

like, depression, anxiety, AND PTSD all cause irritability and anger issues. anxiety literally triggers your fight or flight, and not everyone automatically cowers into their flight instinct. PTSD has a little something called “hyperarousal,” which is a constant state of anger.

but okay, mental health issues can’t be used as an excuse for things, alright. it’s still late at night. people get irritable and cranky the more they stay up. lack of sleep causes aggression.

but really, none of that matters because Vanessa is justified in her grouchiness through the entire game since, again, she’s doing her job.

and it’s not even like she says or does anything that bad! i’ve seen people treat her like she’s some kind of monster, and for what? because she made a hollow threat about scrapping Freddy?? it was, like, two in the morning, people! people say things they don’t mean when they’re 1) tired and 2) emotional. and we all know she doesn’t have the authority to do that, so she wouldn’t actually go through with it.

also need i remind everyone that Vanessa is treated poorly by her OWN CREATOR?? she’s grossly sexualized. we all know what the Vanny suit looks like. it’s skintight. it’s very obviously designed in a way to highlight ALL her curves. Scott did that on purpose. and like,,, why?? she’s a murder bunny. why does she have to be “attractive”?

don’t get me wrong, i like the design for Vanny, i just hate the suit. i love the idea of her looking all patchwork, like Vanessa tore apart different articles of clothing to make the costume because she couldn’t get enough fur, so she could have been this big mess of thick white fur with splashes of a bunch of random materials in between the pelt. that could have easily shown how, like, “unpracticed” she is. it’s a shoddy suit made by someone who doesn’t know what they’re doing.

but NOOOO, Scott had to go, “how can i show that she’s a woman who has boobs?!?!??!? how can i bring her boobs into this?!?!?! what about her boobs?!?!?! we can’t forget about her boobs!!!!”

like, dude, we know she has boobs. she’s a killer bunny, not a playboy bunny. let’s not blur the lines, Scott.

you know, it’s really saying something when the plush of a character is less sexualized than the design itself. i own a Vanny plush (it look, like, three months for her to ship), and she looks great! she’s super cute! but, GOD, the DUALITY between her and the actual Vanny is GLARING.

but also, this isn’t anything new. most of Scott’s female characters get the treatment of being sexualized.

it’s just so goddamn frustrating to see male characters get held up on a higher pedestal than female characters. this is an issue in most fandoms. the women are treated like shit. and it’s infuriating.

just— if Vanessa were a guy, people would NOT treat her the way they do. and if she were a man, Vanny’s suit would have been less sexualized and more like an actual animal suit.

[stellarsyzygy]

.

keep thinking about the last place where i lived where one of the most awful things was just... being very like.... pedestalized and getting Too Much attention and. idk. people don't seem to get that it isn't fun to be the person in the room people all find most agreeable and best behaved and fun to be around bc it often means everyone else. is not. not as a hard and fast rule or anything but. so often there was all this petty drama and squabbling and fighting and sometimes things got really triggering for my cptsd bc of how people treated each other. and then i move here.

first time i even meet them theyre fighting. they couldn't even pretend to make a good impression. but i was so exhausted and so ready to move and out of time to find a place. and i thought well maybe it will get better. but it just got worse. once again and quite quickly i was finding myself being suddenly appointed some kind of arbiter or referee and it's like... i am so tired. i am so so tired. but here people were much worse to me. for reasons frankly incomprehensible that seem to just... root down to personality given it was going on from the start and they treated each other that way as well so. but it's gotten so bad that my health and well being just have been careening off a damn cliff because they've been so goddamn cruel and inexplicably angry and all this stuff and i don't know if it's because of the way they've become accustomed to treating each other or the racism i definitely have seen and experienced and even in our first meeting they recognized was happening and was like "we'll be up to learn about anti racism" as a like reassurance nd im just sitting there like well i dont have to hang out with them if they mistreat me. apparently that too has been denied to me? because they did so i didn't. and yet it does continue down this narrow precipitous track of god knows what to god knows where for reasons that have no standing on anything resembling solid reasonable ground because there just... is no reason to do what they've been doing. to the point i have repeatedly convinced myself i must just be wrong about it. and been proven wrong about being wrong. you think no one could ever be that bad you know. you think it must be impossible for that lottery of people to have turned up so absolutely ill in your favor for them to act... that badly.

i don't think it costs a lot for people to care for each other, especially the ones who claim to be good friends. and now it's like well i chose this situation because i wanted covid safety which is now out of reach seemingly, and i probably won't find somewhere else i can afford. and i still when i think back to being the center of attention cannot stand it. it's still not worth it. you can wrap all the way around to the other side of something, and not be in much a different place. if they love you too much or hate you too much you're in their attention and they're thinking about you. and it traces like lines. i've tried for so long to even conceptualize the morality of this situation mainly because i do not want to have suffered something so wrong as i have. but i have. i've tried to find any possible explanation any possible justification, but there are none to be found. once again i am the center of attention, in a much stranger way. but it's not the same feeling. it's like its cousin, something distant but related. some people don't know what peace or mercy or caring really is. some people will be vicious to you simply for the taste of it on their lips. i knew over and over again that it seemed like there would be problems from the way they acted but you try to tune those things out, you want to look on the bright side. you can't have that kind of constant worry when usually there's not so much to worry about. i should have known this was different from the things they'd said i guess. it laid out a pattern that i really tried to ignore because i'd never encountered anything like it, and they say people can change and they said they'd changed. who wants to worry like that in a situation so closely packed? who in search of perhaps the sort of home they'd found wouldn't try to ignore the things that seemed difficult or wrong and try to fix them or just. take the slings and arrows. it seems there's always slings and arrows. the problem is there's a difference whether they come from someone else, rather than outrageous fortune. i guess i've learned a lot about people and what ill they're willing to do to justify their own misdeeds. cruel thoughts and misgivings. I can't say I ever wanted to learn any of that though. I can't say anyone should ever have to. i really don't understand what they get out of any of it. why for cruelty's sake they should waste all the sand in the hourglass. I'm about to leave this place and it's almost over and I still just don't get it. I don't know if I ever will. I know there's aspects to this of sexual assault in their actions. I know they seem to be afraid of black people as a whole and have this strange conception that i'm some kind of criminal threat or something? Based on literally nothing from reality.

I know they mentioned they've had issues with what they've done before and it seems potentially likely they were kicked out of their last place because they were caught. They said something not unlike it that just didn't add up at all. I've been gaslit, mistreated, hacked, stalked, purposely triggered. Devices recording in my room? I keep going well I must be crazy. But I don't have those symptoms. And I keep being right about it. I think they knew about my tumblr or something before we lived together but I'm not even sure. I just know a lot of things make a net zero sense otherwise. I even heard about them talking about being about to hack someone's email or something one day around me like it was absolutely nothing but maybe they're the type where black folks are kind of invisible. It's one of those things where the more you perceive how it all fits together the worse it gets and you just don't want to look anymore. The connection is such a horrible thing. I don't even know how they're doing things fully so I don't know how to stop it or get away from them safely. I've been trying to seek help but it's baffling. And I can only wonder what else they've done that I don't know about, before me and to me. I know they've lied about me really majorly. I don't know what the full extent of their actions are, given that I do not traffic in surveillance devices or any bs like that like. Literally who does that. It's such an unbelievable situation but I also know I haven't been writing these and now I remember that it's because they started fucking watching what i was writing, somehow. reacting out there. I can hear it sometimes. I have learned never share your triggers because some people will not act right about them. I should have known my roommate was going on a fishing expedition with the questions they were asking me when we first talked about the living situation but I was so exhausted. Sometimes all you want is for things to change and you don't look before you leap. And sometimes you have no other option. Sometimes you try to leave and they lock you in the same way they steal your microwave while claiming they'll get a new one for the house and then get mad as hell when you ask for your own damn property back. It's funny because I thought the other situation that was potentially an option was more of a risk for abuse. And here I am being abused. It's one of those things that's so bad that you don't even want to think people really could do it but you think about the things the people have said to you and around you and you know full well that it is not only possible but potentially very likely. And now not only has it passed likelihood but it's been happening. For seven months or more I figure. Maybe all of them. I really feel like I remember it being something I suspected because in part of things said. But I never got any confirmation so I assumed you know, why would someone do that. And even if they did, nothing for them to find. It doesn't matter if there's anything for them to find though, does it? It certainly hasn't made them stop. It certainly doesn't change that I'm frankly one of the singularly most boring people on earth. And yet again I am the center of attention. It is so fucked up the way some people will treat you on this earth. Exceedingly.

And I keep thinking about the things they seem to think and the things they seem to react to and I wonder if it is just ultimately sexual assault in the whole. Aside from their repeated equivalencies of blackness, and 'dangerous criminals'. Because they know there's nothing for them to find because there's no reason to look and nothing to look for. I scarcely go outside let alone leave my room. Ain't nothing to have troubled them. Kept wondering if I somehow had unknowingly done something that upset them but I think my existence alone frankly is too much for these people.

[dateamonster]

About the Herbert west post

What is something that makes you unable to enjoy a character? Like not something super bad like being a racist etc., just something innocuous that wouldn’t matter to anyone else but you. For me there was a character who after like 2 seasons I realized didn’t know how to pick out fruit correctly and my entire interest in them just 📉📉📉

LOL yea idk idk what exactly it is even like with herbert i think its that he reminds me of this type of character thats like.. genius guy who knows better than everybody and even if/when hes proven wrong it feels like youre supposed to be impressed by him. like maybe im wrong but i sorta feel like id like the guy 1000% more if when all his necromancy fuckery started going to shit he just had a pure breakdown about it. i think itd be funny if his newly reanimated corpse was stumbling around groaning instead of showing any signs of human-level functioning and herbert was like *sniffle* *sob* hes just shy ok??

guys should be a little pathetic for my entertainment or else ill start throwing rocks at them is what im saying

[istherewifiinhell]

reading progress: chapter 157

highlights (this book is my coworker now at least its pulling its weight edition)

144 all the drama about whose the strongest & hankim just owt what a laff. well about time to kill ya i think

yjh conflicted feelings abt kdj every time hes in strife ouagh

I do love the body swap take a load off buddy times

'but i wasnt the normal yjh' -> yjh cant come to the phone right now why cause hes dead consciousness isnt in control right now

dunno how to describe kdj attitude with nirvana other than 'dick swangin'

145 the fourth wall can eat now... (coping with frankly the most horrific scene this book has had for me)

146 unfortunately meta part of being on ch 146 of 550 is kdj is 'dead' and im just like omg ppl are telling this story are they <.<

god everyone is so sad about it tho. kdj what a shit

GOD why does yjh look upset!?! its a fucking mystery dokja

DEAD KDJ: The Hottest Commodity on the star stream

147 yeah yeah weve all seen the greek god family tree

goddesses who rip up homosexuals? Uriel SAYS WHAT??? JESUS CHRIST BOOK (cultist of Dionysus usually ripped up animals, i think goats, maybe pigs?, if you even care)

148 SWK!!! BABY BOY

god your so bad at reading yjh. why hes so upset WHO KNOWS (im not starting a counter for having that exactly note but u get it)

149 COPYRIGHT?

150 your just moving into a nebula together huh... uhauling...

eheh they are holding hands tho

152 wait is min jiwon dead -> terrified of the first significant and lasting character but given the genre idk if thats even a thing

record scratch... is kdj ugly cause his face has a perception filter

153 shin yoosung is his fucking daughter T_T

HSY + YJH epic sharing a boyfriend moments

155 blegh trans misogyny time i see

lhs: im just gonna keep grabbing you so i know ur still alive okay -> T_T

157 giving the demon earl yjh name is such a bitchy move. also. weird gay thing

rotating: trying to do anything other than the christian yaoi.... okay like the kdj schemes that leave everyone really grieving him for a week. thats hey dude. also his new "big constellation energy" he was already cocky... but okay lemme try and open the gate at least a little on nirvana. no i dunno just jesus fucking shit. the immortal versus mortal angst. in the philosophical sense. is always a pretty strong theme. definitely curious if this is just a domino for a further. something. also why didnt i note this.. but line smth like "no human can maintain philosophical outlook when facing death" pretty raw line and definitely an interesting position to take.

also in term of real rpm factor. like. as the notation frequency shows. yhj.... oh this man. far be it from me to be 1/4th thru a book and be like. oh im gonna have my own little interpretation of him. but i will be sitting in my little corner with my very specific reading on his behaviour thus far and ill just live like that. ill gladly wait for the irony to smack me in the face if im proven wrong. anyway this man is swooning and being romanced (unintentionally) by an idiot and i feel for him.

[kazewhara]

hiiii,, i needed somebody to talk to about jealous / possessive xiao,, (not yandere sob, that's just unhealthy) so please muse me.

i feel like xiao does NOT know what jealousy is, despite his age and vast experience in life. if he's heard of it, he doesn't understand what, why, or how it happens, might as well find it a little troublesome mortal thing that happens. why should one feel extremely protective of the other, when there is no ill intentions from the third party? he seems to ask in his headspace, but he'd never grasp the idea of it. after all, the yaksha had never succumbed to being the subject of one's affections.

he sees couples that visit wangshu inn, all displaying their actions of love to one another, and by night, he sees one of them storm off in a huff, managing a shout or two if they felt angry enough. something about "if that girl is so much better than me, then be with her!".. when in reality, the partner had only shared a few polite words in exchange. there is a smile there, but they carried on with their days before -- so why is it a problem to the one who threw a fit?

he can't put his head around jealousy. well, not until he met you.

when xiao first met you, he didn't know what to expect of you. he thinks of your smile as purity, a form that he himself could not maintain, and a smile that which has not seen his wrath. that is good; you are mortal, and mortals are weak. you would not do well with knowing the tortures of this plane.

then he finds your soul is of patience, of dedicated soul with time to offer. he knows when he sees you wait on his balcony, as if he returns to it like an outdoor pet, but reluctantly he comes. he's by your side, and he likes the smile you give him every time, a gentle gesture to his returns. that's the first time he initiated touch with you, basking under moon glow with his head resting on your shoulder. it was the first time you two ever started to hold each other, intentions blurred yet clear all at once, and he still worries until this day if he was too pushy to move forward this line you dance on.

for days, it only grows, from fleeting touches by hair strands to hesitant, careful embraces. he'd find an excuse, really, "wait. there is something in your hair, i'll dispose of it." or maybe he'd barely utter a word when he collapses onto you, but you'd see the way his hands would shake and tremble -- resembling a person when their body wracks with tears and sobs. xiao is not that kind of person, no, for he doubts he could ever be what he used to be in the past -- and he's afraid his ability to be soft with you is non-existent.

he's proven wrong every day, and he can't thank you more for it.

gradually, when this tango of mutual pining rises.. he suddenly begins to understand what it is to feel so envious, when he spots you speaking to the strange, strange gingerhead, with bright, boyish smirks, and devious masks.

what is his person doing with a fatui harbinger..?

JEALOUS XIAO JEALOUS XIAO

see, i can see this playing out one of two ways: either xiao threatens ajax directly (for obvious reasons) or he stands by as menacingly as possible.. and ajax isn't dumb, he knows he's being watched.. idk, this is just really up my alley

[cake-writes]

No Vacancy (2/5)

Pairing: Bucky x Reader

Story Warnings: Both Bucky and Reader are gonna get kind of dark in this, so… Dark Fic (I guess?), Very Dubious Consent, Somnophilia (sex with a sleeping partner – and it’s gonna be more than once), Breeding Kink, Rough Sex, Angry Sex, Hair-Pulling, Choking, Spanking, Degradation, Visible Marks, Breathplay, Throatfucking, Restraints, Masturbation, Angst, Anxiety, Feels, Mutual Pining, VERY OBVIOUSLY 18+

Summary: You and Bucky have been on so many missions together, you’ve lost count. How is it that you’ve never shared a bed until now?

A/N: this chapter was supposed to be about half this long and contain the next chapter’s plot, but now the next chapter is going to involve a POV shift so tl;dr yeah idk what i’m even doing anymore 🤷 LOL enjoy!!! *nervous laughter* what the fuck

Part One / Master List

In the soft fleece of his sweatpants, he feels… sticky. Strange. Off, and Bucky realizes, then, that he must have had a wet dream.

Shit.

It’s his first realization upon waking. The second is that you’re already up; the sheets beside him are long cold, and he can hear the shower running, water splattering unevenly against tile as you wash away yesterday’s road trip. Too many hours cooped up in a stuffy beater, but the two of you have been on so many missions together now that it’s commonplace. Normal.

He’s more used to being with you than by himself anymore.

The two of you drove to the middle of nowhere for this mission, and by the time he pulled into town – a little after 1 in the morning – the only motel was already fully booked, save for a single room with a queen bed. Some wellness convention in town, apparently, and a whole thirty attendees by the looks of things, but you just took the room keys with a shrug and a smile.

“We’ll manage. Right?”

“Yeah,” came his answer, automatic, but it felt wrong to share a bed with you because it’s more than that for him. The way he always trails behind you like a lost puppy dog, like when you made your way back outside to grab your bags – it’s obvious.

He wants this.

You don’t.

And now, the very thought of you wet and naked in the shower makes him uncomfortably hard. He can picture it so easily because his mind’s already done the dirty work for him. What should have been a nightmare last night, a vivid memory of one of Hydra’s breeding experiments from decades past – well, it wasn’t so bad this time. It felt real. It felt good, and he can only assume that’s because you were in it.

A nameless face replaced by yours, gasping, wanting, begging for more, begging him to breed you, to fill you, to make you his – it’s a fantasy he’s kept under lock and key for far too long. 

It’s difficult enough having to share a bed with you, so why the hell did he have to dream about that now?

You make him feel things he shouldn’t. You always have.

The shower shuts off, then, and Bucky quickly pulls himself out of bed to hide the evidence of his crime. White-stained sweats are discarded in favour of a fresh pair, just in time for you to pull open the bathroom door, one towel tucked taut around your body and another for your hair.

You stop in your tracks when you see that he’s awake. It’s a longer pause than necessary, and he feels the heat bloom in his cheeks as you stare at him. The way you study his face makes him nervous, makes him feel like you know what he’s done: that he’s dreamt of you, that he’s made a mess because of you.

It’s embarrassing. It’s humiliating.

At least until you offer him a casual, “Morning, Bucky,” and make your way to your suitcase.

Maybe he’s thinking too much. Nothing’s changed.

“Morning,” he responds, but his throat is dry. He wants to ask how you slept, half to ascertain that you don’t know and half because he’s genuinely curious, but he doesn’t ask. He’s too nervous.

“Shower’s free,” you say, turning away from him to rifle through your things for a change of clothes.

And of course Bucky’s eyes lock onto the exposed skin of your shoulders and back because he just can’t help himself, not when he’s feeling like this, and he watches a droplet of water roll from the nape of your neck to beneath your towel – right next to a couple of freckles he swears he saw in his dream, the very dream where he fucked the breath out of you and filled you with cum until you couldn’t take anymore. But not for lack of trying.

Christ.

“Yeah,” Bucky rasps, tearing his eyes away just seconds before you turn back around, t-shirt and jeans in hand. “Okay. Thanks.”

He won’t look at you again. He can’t. 

He shouldn’t think about you like this. He shouldn’t want you like this.

So he escapes into the steamy room, because he’s just about ready to jump out of his own skin. The door shuts behind him with a soft click, and the sound comes as a small comfort; it’s a barrier, almost, one that’s quickly forgotten when he sees your toiletries on the benchtop and in the shower.

He’s surrounded by you.

He’s suffocating.

The shower leaves Bucky feeling a lot more refreshed.

Ropes of sticky white wash down the drain along with his worries, and he already feels better. Clearer. Even if it’s wrong to imagine you that way, it still takes the edge off – lets him concentrate more on the mission than you, which is the entire reason the two of you are here.

Problem is, he feels like god damned teenager. 

What the hell is wrong with him?

“What’s the plan for today?” he asks you, towelling dry his hair with one hand. He’s still shirtless – pulled on a pair of black jeans a minute ago, but he hasn’t yet grabbed a shirt out of his duffel because he’d rather try for a proper conversation with you. Try to make things feel normal again.

This is commonplace, he has to remind himself. Casual. 

You’ve shared a room before, a fact only further proven when you glance up at him from the notebook in your lap and barely bat an eyelash. You’re sitting on the bed with your legs crossed, going over the mission notes and putting together a list of potential leads just like you always do.

“Breakfast,” you answer. “I did a little light reading while you were in the shower.” That’s when you hold up a pamphlet with the motel’s branding on it for emphasis. “Free muffins, see? All you can eat.”

Nothing’s changed. You’re the same as ever.

Bucky snorts. “How bad do you think their coffee is?”

“Oh, it’s gonna be awful,” you say with a grin, tossing the pamphlet back down onto the bed. “Come on, hurry up. I’m starving.”

“Muffins aren’t gonna fill you up, you know,” he teases, reaching around you for the pamphlet. He wants to check if it mentions any specific brand of coffee or if he’ll be drinking dirt today.

Not that it matters, because that’s when you do react; it’s barely noticeable, but you flinch.

Not normal.

A shaky breath escapes your lips.

“After breakfast, we should stop by the pharmacy,” you try continue on with the day’s itinerary like nothing’s wrong, like you didn’t just jump because he got too close, but he can discern the slight tremble in your voice.

You’re scared. Even Bucky can see it.

“Why?”

It’s a question he doesn’t want you to answer. Not really.

When you look up at him again, there’s some emotion there – something unreadable. It’s like you want to say something, maybe, but you don’t. Instead you clear your throat and give him the obvious excuse: “I’m not feeling too great today. Gonna grab some cold meds.”

A lie.

And then you shift to squeeze your thighs together, before you hop up from the bed entirely – up and away from him.

“Alright,” Bucky acquiesces, but it’s only out of respect for you that he does.

You’ve never done that before.

You’ve never lied to his face like that before.

You’ve never been scared of him before. Not like that.

He should know; he’s gotten close to you a lot, probably too often if he’s honest with himself, but it’s not like anyone’s actually keeping track except for him. The two of you have played newlyweds and siblings and all sorts of stupid roles together on undercover gigs; he’s had his arm around you, had his body up against yours, even, and you’ve never, ever reacted that way.

Why now?

As Bucky pulls a shirt over his head, he catches you watching him in the mirror. There’s something dark about the look in your eyes that unsettles him, but it feels even worse when you look away.

Bucky opens the door to the guest services office for you, and when you walk in, he gently places his hand on your lower back like he’s done a number of times before. This time, however, it’s a test.

You don’t react. You don’t even blink.

Maybe he’s thinking too much. Again.

It’s been raining for a while, judging by the number of puddles in the ill-maintained parking lot and the bucket catching water in the foyer of the office. Bucky finds himself thinking that the two of you might have gotten lucky with your room; no leaks yet, but his mind is still stuck on other matters.

Maybe you really aren’t feeling well. Maybe that’s all it is.

The office smells even more damp and dusty this morning than it did last night. It makes his nose wrinkle.

“This place is a real mess, isn’t it?” you whisper under your breath, eyes alight with mischief as you peer up at him in the dim lighting. You’re so close that the sweet scent of your shampoo cuts through the mustiness like a balm.

His brows raise in amusement. “Think it’s worse than the Ozarks?”

It’s an inside joke the two of you share: the worst place you’ve been on a mission together.

You chew your lip as you consider the question; then, “Close.”

“Good morning,” comes a cheery voice from the reception desk, and Bucky looks over to find a new face there, a plump older woman smiling at him. She’s a far cry from the pimpled teenage boy who gave you the keys last night, the one who checked out your cleavage in the process.

Not that you noticed, because the look Bucky shot him was enough to make him stop.

“Morning, ma’am,” he greets pleasantly. “We’re here for breakfast.” An elbow nudges him in the ribs, prompting him to clarify in annoyance, “The muffins.”

She nods. “Of course! Follow me.”

As she leads the two of you to the breakfast room – back through a hallway behind the reception desk, because that’s not weird at all – Bucky mouths, “Really?” at you over his shoulder. 

You just give him an innocent little shrug in return, like you didn’t elbow him in the ribs. Then you gesture to the long hallway and mouth back, “What the hell?”

Now it’s his turn to shrug. The two of you have stayed in your fair share of dives, but this place is in a class of its own. It’s bizarre, and the breakfast room is even worse: tiny, with a shoddy plastic table set up on one side, opposite an empty wall covered in paintings that are probably older than he is. There’s also nowhere to sit, because the room’s too small for that.

Thankfully, the muffins do look appealing. They’re large and varied and stacked high on two serving platters, and he has to wonder how many of the guests actually take up the motel on their offer. A quick check of his watch indicates that it’s a little after eight; maybe the two of you are just the first to arrive.

“Enjoy,” says the woman – Bucky glimpses her nametag, then, which reads Judy – and after he offers her a nod in thanks, she heads back down the hallway to the front desk.

“Thank you,” you call out behind her, awkwardly, and he stifles a laugh.

This room – or should he say closet? – doesn’t smell so musty. Not like the rest of the place. It’s the one silver lining, he supposes, because nothing else about it is very appealing. Next to the muffins sit two diner-style coffee pots in their cradles, as well as a stack of styrofoam cups, some cream and sugar, and a bowl of fruit.

So much for a continental breakfast. There’s barely anything here.

After he selects a particularly red apple, Bucky pulls two cups from the stack and deadpans, “Happy now?”

You beam at him. “Delighted.”

“You’re an idiot,” he tells you, pointedly, which only makes you smile more. That’s when he makes sure to grab the caffeinated coffee pot, because he can already tell it won’t be worth the lack of caffeine otherwise – which is what he desperately needs right now in order to deal with you.

“Yeah,” you say through a mouthful of blueberry muffin, “but I’m your idiot.”

Bucky’s heart stutters inside of his chest, and he very nearly spills the coffee he’s pouring.

What the hell is that supposed to mean?

But he doesn’t spill a drop, and soon he’s got two styrofoam cups of lukewarm coffee in hand as he makes his way over to where you’re leaning against the wall. Both have equal amounts of cream and sugar to dilute the taste, so he chooses one at random to offer you.

“You’re gonna choke if you keep stuffing your face like that. Here.”

It’s not an order, exactly, but you accept the cup from him anyway and take a sip. Bucky can tell the moment it hits your tastebuds because you immediately make a face.

“Worse than the Ozarks?” he suggests again, with a teasing lilt.

“Oh yeah,” you reply with a grimace. “At least the muffins aren’t bad.” To prove your point, you break off a piece with your thumb and forefinger and hold it out to him expectantly.

This is commonplace. It’s normal. It’s casual, but he pauses; there’s a look in your eyes he doesn’t recognize, something dark, hungry, and he feels the heat start to creep up his neck.

Why do you keep looking at him like that?

When he hesitantly opens his mouth, you feed the piece of muffin to him. Of course you do, but your fingertip lingers a little too long – and his tongue slowly licks the crumbs away, prompting a sharp intake of breath from you.

This isn’t normal.

It’s only when you chew your lip and pull away does the spell break. Bucky immediately averts his eyes – winds up staring down into his cup of coffee like he’s just gotten caught doing something he shouldn’t have, but the reprimand he’s expecting to hear doesn’t come.

A crinkle cuts through the silence, and then, “It’s good, right?”

Bucky glances up from his coffee to find that you’re not focused on him, now, but on the wrapper of a banana bread muffin. His face finally flushes hot, almost like it’s been waiting to make sure you’re not looking – and you definitely aren’t. Not now.

It’s embarrassing.  It’s humiliating.

“Yeah,” he answers, heart racing inside of his chest. “It’s good.”

And then he takes a sip of coffee, but the only thing he can taste is the sweetness of your skin.

“Have any other rooms opened up?”

Your question to Judy on the way back outside makes his heart sink.

Breakfast didn’t feel quite right after that, but Bucky thought things were fine. At least until you stopped to ask that, anyway. He checks his watch again to distract himself from his nerves; almost nine o’clock now.

“I’m afraid not, dear,” Judy informs you politely. “The convention booked us right up. Probably won’t have any other rooms available until Monday.”

Today is Friday.

Shit.

“That’s okay. Thanks anyway.”

While you offer her a sweet smile to go along with your platitudes, Bucky knows instantly that it’s not a real one because it doesn’t quite reach your eyes. It’s like he’s on autopilot when he opens the door for you this time, because he’s too caught up in his head to even notice. 

Was it because of breakfast that you want to switch rooms, or maybe you do know what he was dreaming about this morning and you’re just too nice to say anything—

“Bucky?”

Your voice pulls him out of his thoughts, and he looks down at you to find that your brows are furrowed and you’re asking him a question, now.

“I said, are you okay with staying here one more night? Sorry, I know it’s not ideal. Guess it’s not too comfortable sharing the bed with me, huh?”

An awkward laugh follows your supposed joke, and you briskly rub your arms because it’s a little chilly this morning from the rain.

For a moment, he just stares. How can he do anything else? It takes him a second to process what you’ve asked, what you’ve said; and then he realizes you were looking for another room because you think he’s uncomfortable.

“What are you talking about?” he finally manages.

“Since you got up this morning, you’ve been kind of…” You pause to think of a good word for it, and then you finally say, “off, I guess?” Then you rub the back of your neck, looking about as awkward as he can only imagine you feel. “I don’t blame you. Things were a lot different in the 40s, right, and I pressured you into sleeping with me, didn’t I—”

“You pressured— What?” That’s right. He remembers, then, that it’s anxiety – that you’ve got the same issue he does. You overthink. “Now wait just a damn second, doll. When did I say I wasn’t comfortable?”

Your mouth opens for a few prolonged seconds, and then it shuts, like there’s something on the tip of your tongue that you want to say but you just can’t get it out. Again.

“I slept with you because I wanted to. You sure as hell didn’t have to pressure me into it.” The way he says the word makes it sound like the stupidest thing he’s ever heard, maybe because it is. “Okay?”

The implication of his choice of words and yours hangs heavy in the air as you peer up at him through your lashes – searching for the lie, but there isn’t one. All you’ll find is his honesty, and he assumes you do when you reply, “O...Okay.”  

And then, when your search gives way to something darker, baser, Bucky breaks away. He doesn’t know what to do when you look at him that way, but it makes him think of things he absolutely shouldn’t.

“Come on,” he calls over his shoulder, feeling his face flush and his heartbeat quicken. “We’ve gotta get moving.”

He shouldn’t think about you like this.

He’s suffocating.

Part Three

[rotatemp3]

Ok I know you said not to talk about the translation issue but I just found out about it and want to share my two cents on this from experience in another fandom.

As a carat aka seventeen fan, I have seen what can sadly happen when we, international fans, don't have a full context of what was translated. Sometbing that was more vague or quickly translated without proper explanation (yes I know these are two different scenarios but both relyed HEAVILY on fan translations) please, please and once again please be careful with translations if you do not understand things because honestly not including something or not doing the proper translations can cause the house of cards to collapse. I thank the anon who gave proper context to what changkyun said as well as the 2nd translation tweet you provided because the original made me scream in frustration. They did the similar thing like in the carat fandom, left after hours with no mention of the meaning of some phrases. Cue chaos and we have what we got. Since me and others do rely on translations, we have to trust the fans who do them do it correctly. People who have a full understanding and such. While I am forever thankful for fans who do this, I know that I have to be careful with them as well. Its why I wait for official translations from respected fan translation groups or even from the company. As the anon explained, some things are going to be tricky to translate and I speak this from experience! Trying to translate my native language to English can be tricky since there are some wording that just doesn't fit well within the English language. So do I think changkyun meant ill will? No, I think he simply was venting his thoughts to fans where he was comfortable in his native tongue. Kfans didn't see any wrong because they got what he meant where us oversees fans well, we couldn't help but feel confusion.

Idk i feel like I am rambling, I am sorry for the bother and you can for sure delete my ask! I don't want to make any uncomfortable as fans are allowed to feel hurt and confused. I just wanted to share my thoughts on this with some similar experience of fan translations causing some issues. I feel bad for the entire situation because all of this could have been smoothed out if OP who did the translation added context, not just quick tweets to get things out there due to demand. No, put a screenshot if needed of the full detail about what was said. Maybe changkyun could have worded it different but again, in Korean it may sound chill and ok but as someone who doesn't know Korean I wouldn't have that full understanding. As you mentioned, after the last issue with no word (sadly a common issue. Even in seventeen we had this struggle) i think it just caused the water aka fans to react and flood with it all.

hi there!!! thank you for taking the time to share this with me. from both of these situations we can see how easy it is to come to a certain conclusion about someone as a result of mistranslations... which is concerning as many fans rely on these translations to find out what’s going on with their idols. these fans who do the translations, while i appreciate everything that they do, have a responsibility to relay the correct information to fans. mistranslations can lead to many misunderstandings... and we know when the mistranslations paint the idol in a negative light, it spreads and spreads until it reaches non fans and by then it’s too late to stop it... and i have seen plenty of instances where even when the information has been proven to be untrue, it still the follows the idol around. i know fans want to be the first to share things and this goes with translations too, but i hope fans can appreciate how much responsibility they have when they share this information and take more care with it.....

[rocketfool]

fawks: 16, 46, 58, 64 + kass: 10, 15, 57, 69 (IF THIS IS TOO MANY, feel free to only choose a handful lmaoooo... i am just curious!!!)

FAWKS

16. what are their feelings on the people who raised them?

it’s extremely Complicated!!! I think fawks does love her family, but feels like there’s a lot of baggage there--she never felt like she was good enough for her mom and that a lot of her love was conditional on fawks’ ability to achieve and in particular to meet expectations on how she should act as a member of her well-known family. becoming a professor in the shadow of her parents’ illustrious academic careers only exacerbated that situation. I think some of the tension with her mom is based on the fact they didn’t really understand each other and that they both stopped trying after a certain point, but there is still the possibility they could reconcile someday since none of that distance came out of a place of true anger. 

fawks’ relationship with her dad is more straightforward, as her dad was much more supportive of her interests and made an effort to ensure she could pursue them. at the same time, though, he was always pulled between her and her mom, and I think fawks also never really allowed herself to be super open with him because she was afraid whose side he’d take if she ever did burn bridges permanently. 

46. what do they deprive themself of?

HMMMMM not surprising but she deprives herself of emotional intimacy, and probably even of a connection with her own feelings. she’s become very self-reliant as a coping strategy, but that does also mean she avoids dwelling on her negative emotions and tries to distance herself from them. which is! not neccessarily a healthy way to deal with them! I think she’s getting better at...trying to wrestle with them and being more open/trusting with people on her feelings, but it is still very hard for her. 

58. what do they think their role in the party is? what is their role in actuality?

LMAO I think at her best fawks likes to think of herself as one of the idea people and a leader of sorts for that reason, since she has such a strong perspective and is also more than a little full of herself. in reality though, I think maybe she more contributes to like...spontaneity and a willingness to be curious and inquisitive, to follow your passions and the joy they bring you. idk what exact ~role that is, but she definitely is all about being true to yourself and I think encourages the party to be too just based on her own enthusiasm for it. 

64. do they value mercy or justice more?

JUSTICE FOR SURE. her way of thinking is very black and white. I think she has the capacity to be moved towards mercy/forgiveness, but she’s much more likely to think people deserve the consequences they are given (which has made the whole situation with the black dragon weigh on her more--she thinks she deserves some type of punishment for her mistake). 

KASS

10. how often do they lie? what situations cause them to be dishonest?

why would you ask kass, a spy, this? :) 

LMAO but in seriousness, kass does of course have a more free-wheeling approach to telling the truth than most. he has no problem with lying to achieve his own ends, particularly when he believes it’s for something important/some type of mission. he also does not neccessarily have an issue with telling white lies if he believes it will help someone (or at the very least, not do them any ill). 

THAT ALL BEING SAID, I think he holds himself to a pretty high standard of being truthful with people when he has no reason not to be. kass greatly values honesty given the nature of his profession, and he tries to be genuine with both friends/allies and strangers when he has the luxury of doing so. the only time he’d lie to someone close to him is if he thought it would protect them--he definitely does not have an inherent desire to deceive or manipulate anyone, and I think at his heart definitely prefers to engage openly with people. 

15. do they trust their party? why or why not?

not to get TOO into the weeds about his ~complicated morality since we covered that with the last question, but I don’t think think trust is very straightforward with kass. he’s used to watching his own back and holds most people at arms’ length because true friends in the zhents are hard to come by. he trusts the party insomuch as he doesn’t have any reason to believe they’d betray him at the present moment, or cut and run if things went south (since they very much did the session he almost got killed LOL). but I don’t think he trusts that this will always be the case, even though he likes the party a lot. the one exception is probably pierce, given their history--like obviously he understands pierce wouldn’t stand for him messing with the party for zhent business (like that’s valid lmao), but he trusts implicitly that pierce will stick with him through hell, since pierce already has proven he will.

57. what makes them angry?

kass is very hard to make genuinely angry! his temper has a long fuse, and when he does get upset, it’s usually a burst of emotion that he quickly gets over once the situation has been addressed. one thing that will always make him furious though, given his past, is the issue of wealth disparity (and particularly its effects on children). he generally has no love for nobles for this reason. kass also hates cruel people and bullies, which has definitely made working for the zhentarim...difficult at times. 

69. how would they describe their party members?

gwen: “gwen is one of my very favorite people I’ve met recently! she is very tenacious, to have come to the underdark with us for the first time on this mission and kept going even with everything we’ve faced. I think she does not give herself enough credit for how strong she truly is. she seems to be weighed down by her past, and I hope she can leave it behind with time--she seems freer when she does what she wants to do, rather than what is expected of her. she is also incredibly smart--I stand by the ratapult being a work of true genius.” 

jolene: “jolene is, I think, a bit more than she likes to project. she is definitely bold and a force to be reckoned with when she puts her mind to something, and both a skilled fighter and musician, which is truly enviable! but I think she tries to hide that her passion comes from a place of caring deeply about her friends like pierce...but I suppose I could be wrong, as we have not known each other for too long. what I do know? her leather jacket is far superior to any other I’ve seen, as is much of her style. oh also! I don’t understand her relationship with the void, but I have a healthy respect for it.” 

pierce: “ahhh, it is hard to come up with the best words to describe pierce. he would probably hate to hear me sing his praises, but he is definitely one of the most true men I have ever known--he is the rare breed that tries to always do what’s right for no reason but because it���s the right thing to do, who chooses what is good over what is easy. and he has been that way even since we were kids. I don’t think he values himself enough for that, and I’d like to see him one day really realize his own worth. I do want to know more about what happened to him in the time since we lost contact--he has always been an anxious person, but I wonder if something happened during those years that is still affecting him...also, on a lighter note, he died and came back as a halfling? which I am still wrapping my head around.” 

[bigorangecat]

Not an expert by any means but I saw a post that gave me pause. I didn't want to add on to OPs post bc they are flooded with (shitty) reblogs/responses and I honestly don't wanna be one of them with my *spicy take" or w/e or try to argue with OP bc I actually agree partially.

It was about how we shouldn't defund the police or replace them with social workers for mentally ill. Not trying to give myself a moral pat on the back? But it makes me glad I was on the crisis team I was (whose goal was to AVOID hospitalization as much as possible and empower choice).

OP talked about how their social worker roommate handled their first episode phychosis very poorly. The overall post message was that replacing police with social workers is not a good idea....I have to agree.

It was often the case, that we would get calls from therapists/counselors/etc. That they wanted DCR to come to make their evaluation. Or families who didn't know what to do, whether thatooked like the genuinely wanted to support their loved one and didn't know how and some that just wanted said family member taken away. And a few times that I did not agree with how my own clinician team mates wanted to handle certain situations. I have seen cops and AMR act rude, horrible to participants. I've also seen them be kind and have more patience then a saint.

Our system is overall broken. Our law system. Our mental health system. This history of mental health is...it a bad. I am not listing sources, feel free to look up institutions of the past or read the handy dandy DSM (yes even the DSM-5 is shit imo). But this is the system we've built and put layers and layers of new building bricks on over time. Consider the "Axe Riddle" from John DIes At the End. Anyways, changing or dismantling our systems of health and law are ever going.

Social Workers are along the same systems Cops are. Overall our society needs to reexamine how we view mental illness. I think there is...some sort of "pompousness" about clinicians/social workers. I have worked and am friends with many. Not all have it, but it is...I want to say it's maybe that many social workers look at mental ill as "others". In the field, and suuure many of them might be "woke" but not all them follow being "trauma-informed". Not all use person first language. Or believe in harm reduction . Anyways. What I'm trying to say is they are flawed just as the rest of society is about looking at mental illness. It's not just one section of society we should reform, it's the whole framework . Mentally ill people are still labeled as others and dehumanized. In fact that's been a proven thing with people's recovery. When society doesn't demonize you, or at least the individual views it differently... Recovery is way more possible.

One particular response on OPs post was from a social worker aaannnd ah, reminded me of how silly they can be. Not to shit on said replier/user...but no. A social worker is not obligated to call the police/or w/e if they see their patient as suicidal. Idk said social workers work style but....perhaps Instead of calling to take your patient away to inpatient you....idk work with the person? Like do your job? Help them process the shit they are going through? Look for alternatives and give them hope? N yes I am aware of mandatory reporting, I am one. Frankly I find it a bit disturbing how poster doubled down on their...wrongness. Anyways.

A participant/patient seeking support for their issues shouldn't be afraid to talk about it or have "choose their words carefully".

Overall I will still support social workers in place of police with mental health. They might not be trained well about mental health but better then the violence of cops. I think the Peer Movement is more important then ever. People who live with mental illness just know better about dealing with those things. I am not advocating to throw away social workers but to have that "system" be reformed as well. In no way shape or form does "a master's degree, 3600 hours of training and "wokeness" training" make you more knowledgeable about psychosis/mental illness then someone who lives with it. I hope more people with lived expiriences enter the field as well.

[voicesordoctors]

voices or doctors?

Coolieo its perfectly fine to argue i need the input anyway its how gw made the government so its how im gonna prove him wrong

WanK

ANYWAY

How can you prove mental illness exists?  How do you go about finding it and defining it?  obviously any hallucinations, delusions or paranoia. (all of which tie in together in some cases) and at that point how can you differentiate between the 3. one is more obvious, where the other 2 are more similar and harder to understand, out of a human tendency to want to be right (and should be listened to [self righteousness{non biblical). So these things should always be taken into account when thinking deeply on a topic. (hello hackers) Believe it or not all people to a degree are paranoid.

So in my opinion, the spectrum has already been exhibited with the facist, bigoted, racists & ignorant mindsets, leading to a set of ailments that i’ll get to later. One of the main symptoms include objectification, which  in close to any setting comes from a subconscious (or conscious) sense of superiority in a more “official” setting. Subclasses to this mind set can come in the form of sexisim, transphobia, homophobia, xenophobia or racism(the difference being one is alienation} and the other is just outright hatred or bigotry) or its just an unknown stupidity (ignorance). And with this level of objectifying life, you're probably worrying about this depictions sexual orientation (depending on youre nurture.vs.nature.), but that’s neither here nor there because people like this are in literally ALL WALKS of life. (scattered, with pockets based on a persons nurture). 

This leads to the concept of the roboticism of life {plutocracy}. A persons nature, and the repetition we face as people. It starts in school oddly, but even before that, it starts at home and comes from work on a day to day and is sorted into a classification of wealth with an added life experience, varying from person to person (nature vs nurture & the side effects of each) that being said, im going to talk about the design of a fast food restaurant. 

            All the food in the warmer will last you 4 hours and all the food on the table will last you 2 and get used in 3. So already you’re thinking bad food, and yes) (but no this is just some of the timing you have to take into account for while making the food. the things defrosting will be done in a half hour so you have to know when to; put them in to take them out, to put them in to take them out, to do the dishes, to put it in the food (every shift, everyday for the same ~24 people (at most). (But that's me, that’s my understanding) after this you go home to what is probably the most human activity we indulge… assuming you have a life outside work. DEEEEEEEEEPRESSSION maybe you’re psychotic idfk.

If you’re born in the 20’s, life is all about improvement across the board…. BUT classism (to generalise sexisim racisim(of the time) and essentially ableism, reread if you didn’t catch on). This objectification of the day affects not only the wages but the jobs allowed to A class of people as compared to B class of people. Affecting not only the nature of the problem but what becomes the nurture of the problems solution (the up and coming nurture in order to make progress. But that is gradual and very slow being only 100 years in on this discovery, it's already been cemented in and throughout society and our patterns of thought. So as you can imagine our sciences as well as our laws are and may be racially, sexually, or even mentally biased. But what is that?

           We all know the countless lives dedicated to activism, but even that is left to interpretation: (tomato/tomoto) nature vs nurture can be implemented here too. (in a way, but even that's a psychotic way of classifying people). So instead do you know why they say tomato and you say tomoto? Or are you going to stand strong with tomoto, no matter the weather? Well that can be put on a scale!!!!!! the psychotic scale. ~<<--dilutions--schitoo--psychotic--sociopathic--psychopathic--toxic personality--major depressive-- types of anxiety--retardation-->>~ 

(all with a scale to themselves leading into the next) all of which struggle with empathy, for an opposing opinion. With this i think it can be proven that people are all either retarded or robotic. A good example is psychosis is technically catatonic schizophrenia. (psychosis can be based off a disagreement between the doctor and patient and can come near a catatonic level (where catatonic schizophrenia is catatonic.(and thats it? . That's a little hypocritical if you think about the doctor doing the study but that's widely ignored. (to simplify human classification of class of insanity) {psychotically of course.} 

Here we dip into a few odd controversies.

 For instance a man can never be a woman even if they're trans because of the difference in nurture leading to the chosen nature. (A technical delusion)

Or how S class white people will never fully understand the difference between the 20s and today due to a complete removal from society leading to technical schizoaffective disorder or any level on the psychotic scale.(little has changed) it's a work in progress. But that's ignorance.

Or how black america may not see this existing ignorance causing them to be ignorant to the blatant stupidity. (alquada, black panthers, among PLENTY OF others) being the basis of activism in the 20s starting both a nature and nurture as a reaction to the existing nature and nurture. Or you're a sociopath. (you dirty animals)

To understand that, let's go back to objectification, and add an extremist point of view to it. So scientifically all ailments cause these 2 things on different levels and with different emotional responses. But, who's to say emotionally and mentally manipulating people is how you decipher their psychotic behavior? (that's hypocritical) so, the ableist thing to say would be to say that retards don't have emotions (shown in this scale). But in reality we don't all have down syndrome…. So in the case the person is unable (due to human self righteousness) or are unwilling to see the other opinion, then either they don't care or are <-objectifying--biggoted--ignorant-> (applies to: ableism, racism, sexisim). 

Indicating either a near robotic hate or zombie like stupidity. Causing mainstream thinking of tomato vs. tomato. Ultimately being insanity, because that level of objectification applies to any one of these things. Both in behavior and treatment received so is it normal to react “psychopathic-ly” to a doctor? (entailing manipulation… (technically)... See you can't walk into a doctor’s office and expect them to call you normal. No. first they want to know your anxieties, to best sort you for a proscribed doctor (specialist). Thus a type of treatment entailing how you're spoken to what you get to eat, see, hear, feel, ect. Because depending on who you are you might do what they do to you… to them. That's scary, more for the patient than the doctor{if you ask me}… but that depends on the person's nature vs nurture) If they have that emotional response to it, that disproves the existence of a psychotic level but its considered manipulative.

Ideally thats how it works but the problem is not all physicians specialize, and the way its taught is all comparison work (rather than behavioural analysis)

~<-dilutions--schitoo--phycotic--sociopathic--phycopathic--toxic.personality--major.depressive--types of anxiety--retarded->~

{objectification is still the topic}

Id love to go on and talk about the prohibition or the end of slavery or begining of womens rights but thats all old news at this point in time. All we can do as a people is remove this ignorance of nature vs nurture. (Any black lined information the government holds from the people is being left unincluded)...idk what tags i need

[missjanjie]

Brooke and Vanjie are broken up during the S11 tour. They are still flirty and cute with each other but nothing really going on. Management makes them do a number together. Just fluff of them rehearsing and maybe some dirty dancing style choreo?? Idk ill leave it up to your genius brain! Love ya 💘

i have been looking forward to this one for a while lol

-

“So, I think you should take my hand and twirl yourselfinwards when the first chorus starts,” Brooke suggested, pausing the music. “Then,you can kind of like, circle around me on the next line, and walk away pointingback to end it out.”

Vanessa tilted his head to one side while listening. “Okay,so…’take me for what I am…who I was meant to be…and if you give a damn, take mebaby, or leave me’…yeah, okay, that works,” he nodded, going through themovements as he recited the lyrics.

For time and ease, the next two verses were skipped. “So,for the solo bridge I’m gonna go towards the front of the stage, have my lilmoment, then make my way back so I’m next to you at ‘kiss, pookie’, and puckerup,” Vanessa added, staging his steps as he spoke.

Brooke smiled as he watched Vanessa make up his choreographyas he went. He found it cute, the way his face would scrunch up when he gotfocused. “I like that, then I could like, start to lean in before doing amisdirect and going into my verse,” he mused.

“Yeah, yeah and then you can do your thing,” Vanessa agreed,stepping to the side so he could watch Brooke Lynn block out his verse. He knewoftentimes he improvised numbers until they naturally formed into a routine, sohe appreciated Brooke being willing to dedicate the day to create and rehearsethe number from scratch.

“Okay, now the part we do together,” Brook pursed his lipsas the visualized the moves in his mind. The song didn’t really lend itself toa lot of dancing – they would have to rely mainly on camping it up in theirfacial expressions and how they interacted with each other. So, each step wascalculated, scripted, even. But it was in instructions only the two of them wouldunderstand, sometimes completely nonverbal.

“Hey guys,” Nina hummed as he ambled into the auditorium. “How’srehearsal going? Mind if I get a sneak peek?” he asked as he sat down in thefront row.

Vanessa flashed a toothy smile and nodded. “Yeah! We just finishedour first run through. Could use a pair of fresh eyes,” he said and went toturn the music on, the familiar piano tune filling the room before they beganthe routine that started with his part.

Brooke Lynn and Vanessa had a natural chemistry – that wassomething well known to everyone – and to see them lip sync with each other asopposed to against was a sight to be seen. They were able to capture and communicateeach line of the song, playing the role of a couple fighting through an upbeattune almost too perfectly.

The number ended with them on opposite sides of the stagewith their backs to each other and arms crossed. Nina stood up and applauded. “Thatwas fantastic, you guys,” he beamed. “Oh my god, the fans are going to losetheir minds when they see this, it’s gonna be great.”

“And you would know about saying things that make the fanslose their minds,” Brooke added pointedly, undoubtedly referencing the commentNina had made where he speculated that the two of them were still having sex.

Nina, knowing neither of them actually had any anger towardshim rolled his eyes and laughed. “I’ve yet to be proven wrong,” he retorted,then paused for a moment. “You know how the show ends for them, right?”silence. “They get back together. I’m just saying.”

Then, Nina made some half-assed excuse as to why he had toleave, letting Brooke Lynn and Vanessa stand in the aftermath.

“It’s just a show, right?” Brooke tried to sounddisinterested.

“Exactly,” Vanessa nodded, “Let’s take it from the top.”

[suits-of-woe]

Hi! Multiples of 4 for Edmund on the headcanon ask??? Thank you so much!❤️

Thank you!!! I know I never shut up about my boy, thank you for continuing to enable me. This is gonna be really, really long I can’t wait…

I’ll tag @princess-of-france too :)

4. What would they do if they needed to make dinner but the kitchen was busy?

I don’t really feel like Edmund cooks. He’s practical but he’s also rich and has better things to do, so I imagine his diet is like 50% black coffee and energy bars he keeps stashed around the house and 50% super expensive meals he manages to make other people pay for. So in that case he’d probably just eat one of the aforementioned energy bars (or ask some even-richer woman out to dinner for the night, cause he’s like that).

8. Favorite indulgence and feelings surrounding indulging

Oh man. Sex. SO much sex. To the point where it’s a legitimate problem, even though he doesn’t see it as one. The thing is, I don’t think he’s super pro-indulgence as a rule – in fact, he probably looks down on people who don’t have good self-control, especially when it comes to things that are proven to be bad, like over-eating or smoking or things like that. But sex doesn’t fall into that category for him, all the reasons he’s been told to avoid it he sees as moralist bullshit, and it’s fun and it’s not hurting anyone so fuck you, why shouldn’t he do it? The issue is deep down sex is also a huge coping mechanism for him, and the only way he knows how to deal with his intense obsession with affection without just 100% repressing it all the time or, worse, being emotionally vulnerable. But I don’t think he realizes how much it’s become a psychological need for him, and how hard it would be to stop. It’s not that he couldn’t stop, he’d say. It’s just that stopping is exactly what all those moralist assholes he hates would want him to do, so why should he?

12. Favorite book genre?

Edgy social commentary probs. I don’t picture Edmund really being the type to read much fiction, but at the same time, I think certain books mean a lot to him. He’s spent his whole life concealing his controversial views on religion, fate, society, sex, basically everything from Gloucester (and to a lesser extent Edgar) in favor of putting on the guise of a perfect traditionally moral son so I think being able to deal with all those hidden ideas through reading about then would really help. He’s probably got a whole hidden stash somewhere in his room he knows his father will never find.

16. Biggest and smallest long term goal?

His biggest long term goal is just to rise to the top as much as he can. I don’t think he’s the kind of person who likes to set limits on his own ambition – he looks at opportunities one step at a time, but if the doors keep opening, who is he to stop? If he can be Gloucester’s heir? Great. If he can overthrow Gloucester entirely? Better. If he can become king? Best of all, but hell, even then he might not stop. Smallest? Ummm idk maybe get his space totally organized. I feel like he’s the kind of person whose organization never quite catches up with his work, and he always says he’s got better things to do than shuffle papers around, but it secretly kind of drives him crazy so he’d like to be totally neat someday.

20. Childhood illnesses? Any interesting stories behind them?

I imagine Edmund has always been pretty robust and healthy (unlike Edgar, probably) and never really got sick that often, even as a kid. That said, on the rare occasion that he did, I think it was a really bad time for him. Cause like I’ve talked about a million times I think Edmund is very driven by his constant deep need for affection, but it’s the kind of thing he can usually repress on a day-to-day basis as long as all his inhibitions are intact. When they aren’t intact, 9 times out of 10 it’s because he’s drunk/high, which is almost always in some kind of party setting, which means he’s pretty much guaranteed to be able to find someone to at least make out with for a bit to make those feelings go away. But if he’s sick enough to be feverish, it’s pretty much the only time he’s both emotionally uninhibited and unable to use sex as a coping mechanism, and it doesn’t go well. Plus with Edgar being more fragile (and, in my headcanon, his mother dying from sickness at an early age too) Gloucester pretty much keeps all members of the family away from him for fear of anything spreading, so he’s pretty much all alone and left with all that unadulterated loneliness he’s not used to feeling half this much and it’s bad. It’s really bad. He tries not to think about it.

24. Is there one subject of study that they excel at? Or do they even care about intellectual pursuits at all?

He’s honestly ahead of the curve in pretty much every subject. He’s a brilliant silver-tongued wordsmith, he’s a super logic and evidence-driven thinker which I think would make him great at math and science, he’s athletic too, and just generally sharp and good at picking up new things. The only thing I think he’d be bad at is any interpretation of art (and to a lesser extent literature) because I think he’d get too frustratingly literal about it – it’s just lines on a page, dammit, it doesn’t mean anything, people will try to find patterns out of anything but the real world is meaningless and there’s nothing really there. In terms of what interests him the most though, it’s politics, which is what drives him insane because that’s the one thing he’ll never be allowed to pursue.

28. Who do they see as their best friend? Their worst enemy?

Depends on the era of his life. I don’t think he has anyone he considers even a real friend, let alone a best friend, when we see him in the play. When he was younger he would have said Edgar, but that ship sailed a long time ago. Now, he doesn’t really do genuine friendship. There are people he likes, but no one he wouldn’t throw under the bus in a heartbeat if that’s what it took. Similarly, I think he tries not to see anyone as his worst enemy. It’s the world that’s his enemy, and society, and it’s a matter of a lot more than taking down one person to beat that. But really, I think it’s Gloucester he hates more than anyone. That part of the plan is more personal than he’d probably admit.

32. Thoughts on material possessions in general?

He’s not big on them…until they become something he can’t have. Like he’s certainly not the overly-sentimental type to hang onto things he doesn’t need, and I think he sees a lot of material wealth and status symbols as really inherently shallow. But the second those shallow wealth and status symbols are denied him, or used to mark him as lesser, then he’ll be damned if he’s not getting his hands on them if it’s the last thing he does.

36. What makes them feel guilty?

People actually loving and respecting him on their own, not because he manipulated them or did them favors or somehow cheated to get their approval. So much of how he justifies everything he does is the fact that, as a bastard, he thinks he’ll never have half a shot at the advantages everyone else gets, so if he wants anyone to approve of him or admire him or show him affection he has to manipulate the hell out of them (or the situation in general) to get it. He’s convinced himself it’s the only way, so when that’s proven wrong, it rocks his world. There’s a reason “Yet Edmund was belov’d” comes the line before finally changes his mind and tries to do something good.

40. Would you say that they have a superiority-complex? Inferiority-complex? Neither?

Both? One? Or neither? Neither can be en- just kidding it’s BOTH and it’s a problem. He’s been looked down on his entire life for being a bastard and that cuts deep, it always has, no matter how hard he tries to shrug it off. He’ll never really get rid of the idea that he’s lesser, or at least everyone considers him lesser, so he has to claw his way to every bit of advantage and approval he can get. But he also really believes that birth means nothing, that merit and intelligence and survival of the fittest should determine who rises to the top, and in that respect…he maybe overcompensated. Because he also manages to be a raging narcissist who thinks he’s smarter than everyone around him (to be fair, he mostly is) and is entitled to anything he can win for himself.

44. Religion?

MY EDGY ATHEIST KING. I think he’s super anti-religion, and anti-spirituality even more so – just anything that involves people blaming their fates or their decisions on forces out of their control or pretending like anything is just “meant to be” makes him incredibly angry. That does fall under the category of things he won’t admit to preserve his image though, he’ll grit his teeth through whatever religious proceedings are required of him if it’s to his advantage.

48. How do they express love?

Ummm badly? He craves other people’s love constantly, but him actually being the one feeling Real Love isn’t something he’s really prepared to deal with, and it kind of makes him freak out. By the time he’s really headed down the road of executing his plans, I think the main way he expresses love is by trying to get the people he loves far, far away from him and this world and his path of destruction. On a more general note though like I said in that post I made a while ago I think his main love language is physical touch, so when he’s not in such a dark place that either results in lots of hugs or lots of sex depending on the person.