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#but when f characters are badly written it's usually contained to f characters only. and we should interrogate that and question it!
v-arbellanaris · 11 months
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tbd later but i keep seeing people just try to go on and on abt how ppl are morally reprehensible or whatever for Not Liking f characters and i just wanna say there's definitely. ABSOLUTELY. some people in fandom that need to fuckign check their misogyny. there absolutely is and ive been talking abt it on various different blogs and things like that since '09.
but.... idk is that constructive? or helpful? to attach morality to the gender of the characters that you like? idk! this shit fucked me up bc i would like... deny that i liked m characters. like i used 2 feel soooo guilty for liking m characters???? for YEARS??? and i rly felt it was my moral obligation to Like f characters and it was SO forced... and the truth is that a lot of the time ppl write f characters with v little depth and v little intrigue bc they dont want to make Statements abt women overall bc every f character written is somehow supposed to Represent multiple someones and even when theyre """"problematic"""" or """villainous""" or whatever its in a way thats designed more for them to be unlikeable instead of morally complex or morally compelling. ppl who write m characters usually dont bother to think abt the Optics (esp when theyre white m characters) and so all of the lovely complexities come through and its clear from the story n narrative that its unrelated to their identity, or if it is related to their identity, its because of how they relate to it (rather than the relation between identity and action being that being x means you do y or that BECAUSE you're x you do y). in all honesty there's v few f canon characters that have that kind of complexity (part of the reason im always writing my own - ive been writing ofc x canon character fics for actual decades, long before i joined this fandom) and the v few f characters that do have tht complexity are probably side characters or characters not directly relevant to the plotline. and bc theyre so preoccupied w writing these characters as like... a stand-in for Minorities or whatever, they're so careful to strip any potential conflict or moral ambiguity from them in a way that leaves me feeling not v compelled to care - compared to, lets say, m villains who almost always still have that shred of humanity left to compel me to care so much about them bc i can see myself in them, f villains usually dont get that. there's exceptions to this - i can think of a lot of comics characters for e.g. - and i love those exceptions, but they're exceptions.
and idk i feel like we should also acknowledge that like... ignoring that these f characters are badly written or lack compelling (notice i specify COMPELLING here like its not rly enough for them to have a husband or a kid or whatever that's not compelling???) humanising moments because ppl treat f characters like they're supposed to Represent All Womens and 2. this makes them less compelling than m characters like 80% of the time and 3. that these critiques should be anchored in "FUCKING DO BETTER". what could we change abt how we write and engage with f characters? talk about that as much as the critiques or whatever that we have for f characters in the first place bc people are much more willing to give up on trying to write f characters if theyre told "this was shit" vs "this could use with some improvement - what abt this? or that?"
like idk i think there's a more productive way we could be talking abt this
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michael-aftonz · 5 months
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guess who got back into writing omg... i finally finished this but bear with me, this was the first thing i've written that wasn't academic in literal years but Phew boy. this all stemmed from one single idea and my brain kinda exploded.
DISCLAIMERS:
* vanessa is NOT an afton in this fic. if you believe/hc that she is, this is not the fic for you.
* i DO NOT ship michael and vanessa, anything that happens between them in this fic is platonic + helps to further the plot.
* i am a GAY MALE and can reclaim the f slur.
* this fic contains homophobia and several mentions of the F slur, if this makes you uncomfortable, please skip over this fic or read at your own risk.
* there are descriptions of parental abuse and manipulation. there are also descriptions of anxiety attacks. if these topics make you uncomfortable, please do not read or read at your own risk!
* this is supposed to be set in the early 1980s so i tried to fill it with pop culture from that time, if it seems inaccurate please let me know and i'll find an alternative!
word count: 10,333 words 😦
name: i honestly hadn't thought of one Whoops. if you have any ideas let me know!
characters: michael afton, jeremy fitzgerald, vanessa shelly, william afton and mrs. fitzgerald.
ships: michael afton x jeremy fitzgerald
The three childhood friends were hanging out as usual, playing a very intense game of “truth or dare.” However, things were not turning out the way Michael had hoped. It was his turn once again and his friend Vanessa had an evil grin that spread from ear to ear.
“Okay, Mikey,” she started, practically erupting with excitement, “truth or dare.”
Now, Michael was never one to turn down a dare. However, he felt that this would only end badly. But then again, when was he known to listen to his instincts?
“Dare.”
Vanessa pretended to think for a moment before spouting out, “I've got it! You have to kiss everyone in this room.”
“Seriously, Van?” Michael rolled his eyes, but noticing that Vanessa was, indeed, serious he let out an exasperated groan. “Ugh, fine. But I better not find a polaroid of this on your wall later.”
Easy enough: all he had to do was kiss both Jeremy and Vanessa. No big deal. Besides, it wouldn't mean anything, right?
Michael scooted towards Vanessa first, who made quite a dramatic show of poking her lips out and pointing at them with her index finger. He leaned in and it was over without much further thought.
Now, he turned to his best friend - Jeremy Fitzgerald - and gave a little awkward smile.
“If this is too weird, Mike, I can have her give you another dare. I'm pretty sure she just wanted you to kiss her, anyway,” Jeremy spoke. He was always so considerate.
“It's only weird if you make it weird, man. Besides, a dare’s a dare.”
Michael took a deep breath and pressed a kiss onto Jeremy’s lips. However, this one was different than the previous one. While he felt nothing with Vanessa, his entire body felt like it had gotten set on fire. His heart rate quickened and suddenly the walls felt like they were close in around him. He couldn't breathe.
The only thing that jolted him back to reality was a familiar British voice going “Michael? Your siblings and I are back from the workshop.”
Michael quickly came back to his senses and backed away from Jeremy. He wiped his lips and made a show of being remotely disgusted.
“Ew, Jer, what did you eat? I swear, your breath smelled like salt and vinegar chips.” Michael teased, trying his hardest to make sure no one else noticed his racing heart. What he couldn't figure out, though, is why he had such a different reaction to Jeremy’s kiss than Vanessa's. Maybe, he thought, it's because it wasn't right. Yeah, I'm supposed to kiss girls - not boys. That's the only reasonable explanation; my brain is trying to rationalize why I'd kiss Jeremy of all people.
The night continued semi-peacefully, no other heart racing dares occurred - which Michael appreciated.
The day ended and Michael’s friends went home, leaving him to his thoughts. No matter how hard he tried, he kept thinking about the events from earlier in the day - more specifically, the kiss between Jeremy and himself. He grabbed his walkman, rewound the tape, and put the headphones over his ears. If he couldn't hear how loud his heart was beating, he could ignore the noise inside his head too. All he needed was to melt into the music. And to never confront this problem. Ever.
Michael drifted off into a fitful sleep - tossing and turning every second. His mind kept returning to his best friend’s kiss; the warmth he felt throughout his entire body, the loud beating of his heart, and the short moment where he could swear he felt Jeremy kiss back. It was all too much for him to handle right now. He needed to talk to someone. Normally, he'd call Jeremy and invite him over, but these circumstances were very different.
He sighed and walked to the landline before imputing the all too familiar number.
She picked up right away, which wasn't surprising.
“Mikey? Is something wrong?” Vanessa's voice sounded through the speaker, full of concern. Michael never called her this late.
“Hey, Ness.. I- uh.. Can you meet me at the park?” Michael whispered, trying his best not to worry his friend any more than he already had.
“Sure thing. But, Mikey, you need to tell me if something is wrong.”
“Yeah, yeah. I'll tell you when we get there, okay? It's… hard to explain.”
He didn't even wait on her reply before he hung up the phone and ran to grab his windbreaker. Carefully, he slid open the window and climbed through - making sure not to make any noise. Once he made it through, he silently closed the window all but a crack. He'd need to get back in somehow.
He noticed Vanessa's brightly colored sweater and walked over.
“Thanks for coming. I really needed someone to talk to.” He smiled slightly and pulled her into a hug.
“Of course. You can always talk to me, Mike.” Vanessa smiled back and motioned for the two of them to sit on the bench.
The two sat down and Michael exhaled.
“Vanessa, have you ever… Ugh. I don't know how to word this.” Michael started, slowly hiding his face in his hands.
Vanessa placed a reassuring hand on Michael’s shoulders and made a “go on” gesture.
“When you kiss someone, right, you're supposed to… I don't know. Feel something?” Michael continued - growing increasingly more frustrated.
“Typically, yes. If you like that person.” Vanessa replied, a curious look on her face. Could this be what she had hoped?
Michael took another deep breath.
“Vanessa, this might be a weird request.. But.. I need to know if I'm going crazy or not. I.. I need you to kiss me again.”
Vanessa looked at him like he'd just grown two heads.
“You're right, Mike. That is weird. You're being really weird right now.”
“Ness, I know it's strange. I need to test something. Please just do this one thing for me and I won't ask anything weird of you ever again.” Michael pleaded, looking towards his friend.
Vanessa thought for a moment before nodding. She leaned in and placed a small kiss on his lips. Michael waited patiently for something to happen and… Shit Nothing. No electricity, no loud heart beating. Michael pulled away and shrugged.
“Vanessa… You said you were supposed to feel something if you kissed someone you liked, right?” Michael spoke, pursing his lips together and debating if he should actually tell her what was on his mind.
“Mike, you're a great friend… But I don't see you that way,” Vanessa replied, placing a small hand on Michael’s shoulder in a sort of “let him down easy” gesture.
Michael couldn't help but laugh at this. “Vanessa.. I wasn't talking about our kiss. I.. uh.”
Vanessa looked incredibly confused and if she raised her eyebrow any more it might possibly leave her head.
“When.. when we played truth or dare.. Um.. and you told me to kiss everyone in the room.. Well. uh..” Michael stammered, trying to piece his thoughts together, “something.. Happened when I kissed Jeremy. It felt ‘different’ when we kissed than when I kissed him. It felt.. like lightning was coursing through my body. My heart felt like it was going to explode. It was so loud. And then with you.. There was nothing. I really just felt like you needed some chapstick..” He rambled on, looking down and fidgeting with the zipper on his windbreaker.
Vanessa looked oddly relieved that Mike wasn't confessing his feelings for her.
“Mikey, it sounds to me that you might have yourself a little crush on our friend Jerry.” She smiled and patted her friend on the back.
“That's the problem.. I'm not supposed to,” Michael sighed, placing his head into his hands once again, “do you have any idea how my Dad would react if he found out that I…” He shook his head and trailed off.
Vanessa’s smile slightly dropped, “Well.. Don't tell him. Don't tell your Dad. Have you even thought about telling Jeremy?”
“No! I can't tell Jeremy. What if he laughs at me? What if he never wants to see me again? Vanessa, he's my best friend. I can't have him thinking of me like that…” Michael began to sniffle and he hid his head even further.
His friend moved to pat his back but Michael quickly shot off the bench. All his tears began to turn into anger.
“I already get so much shit for my dorky little sister and my wimpy little brother. Do you know how much more I’d get for being a fucking faggot?” He huffed and began to storm back toward his house.
“Mike, wait!”
“You have it so easy, Vanessa! You don't understand.” And before Vanessa could even utter the first syllable of her next word, Michael had already left the park and trudged back towards his house.
He crept back inside the window and marched toward his room - still making sure to be quiet. However, when he was in to his room, he shut his door and angrily threw this windbreaker towards his bed.
Michael sniffled once again, reaching for his walkman and quickly placing the headphones on his ears. As his tape began to play, Michael tucked his head between his knees and tears began streaming down his cheeks.
He had never quite mastered the act of silent crying, but he wasn't as dramatic as his younger brother, either. Michael hated how weak he felt when crying, he also hated how imaginary words from William could ruin his evening.
Michael, himself, didn't even understand why he felt this way about Jeremy. He only knew two things: one, for some reason, he desperately wanted to kiss Jeremy again and two, his father would most likely kill him if he found out. Oh, and three, he hated himself for feeling like this - especially about his friend.
After a few more minutes of quietly sobbing against his bedroom door, Michael had finally stopped crying. He sniffled once again and wiped off his face.
Michael looked up at the flashing alarm clock on his nightstand. 6:00 am. He realized he hadn't slept much the night before - and the guilt of snapping at Vanessa was weighing on him. I should apologize, Michael thought to himself, she was only trying to help, after all.
He took off his headphones and neatly placed his walkman back on the nightstand. He walked outside his bedroom door and noted a small plush fox sitting there with a note that read: Heard you crying. I left my friend because they make me feel better.
Upon reading the note, Michael’s anger slightly returned from the night before. The Crybaby is making fun of me? He picked up the plush toy and ripped apart the seems before throwing it down the hallway.
He scoffed and walked out the door, intent on seeing Vanessa first and apologizing. While on his way towards his friends house, he noticed Jeremy heading the same way. Had Vanessa invited Jeremy here? Did Vanessa tell him what happened between herself and Michael last night? He really hoped not. Yes, Michael had snapped at Vanessa, but he told her everything in confidence.
He tried his best to avoid Jeremy, but something about hm seemed different. Michael couldn't stop noticing little details about him: The way his hair swayed when he walked, the clink of all the patches on his bag, the ever present smile on his face. All of these things were just distracting Michael. He came to apologize to Vanessa, not stare at his best friend.
Michael shook himself out of his stupor and he gave a small wave to Jeremy before going to Vanessa’s door and knocking.
As soon as the door opened, Michael was already rambling.
“Ness, I'm so sorry about last night. I didn't mean to snap at you.. I was just… you know. Overwhelmed.” He pushed himself inside the doorframe and wrapped his friend into a hug.
Vanessa simply nodded and hugged Michael back, “Mikey, I knew you'd be here to apologize so… I invited Jeremy, too. I think you two need to talk.”
A look of shock crosses over Michael's face, but before he could say anything, Jeremy walked in to the room.
“Van? You said you wanted to see me?” Jeremy asked, his voice causing the hair on the back of Michael's neck to stand up.
“Actually, Jerry, Mike has something he needs to talk to you about.” Vanessa responded, smiling from ear to ear. “I'll just be in the other room. You two can talk.”
Michael gave her a subtle “I am going to murder you later” look as Vanessa left the room. Soon, it was just him and Jeremy standing in the walkway of Vanessa's home.
Jeremy gave his typical reassuring smile, which caused Michael's heart to do jumping jacks.
“What's up? Is.. is your dad being weird again?” Jeremy asked, genuine concern filling his voice, and he moved to place a caring hand on Michael’s shoulder.
“That's.. that's the thing, Jer. You’re always so thoughtful and.. you care so much about Vanessa and I. It's really sweet,” Michael started, his nerves being to bubble in his stomach.
“Okay…? I don't really understand what this has to do with anything.. Am I too nice?” Jeremy looked utterly confused (and concerned). He honestly had no idea where this was going but he wanted to be supportive of his friend.
Michael smiled at Jeremy’s response, shaking his head lightly. “No, you're not too nice. You're.. the right amount of nice. I always appreciate everything you do for me. However, I didn't realize that until recently.” He was silent for a moment, weighing how to proceed next. “Jeremy, can I ask you a serious question?”
“Of course, Mike, You can ask me whatever you want. I'll try my best to answer.” Jeremy nodded and sent another reassuring smile at Michael.
Michael took a deep breath and nodded. I'm going to do this. I'm actually going to do this. “Did you… feel.. uh.. feel anything when,” his cheeks flushed a light pink and he began speaking again, much quieter this time, “when we kissed…?”
“I'm sorry? I didn't hear that last part, Mike. Can you repeat that?” Jeremy furrowed his brows, turning his head to his right side – as he is partially deaf in his left ear and hears better on his right side.
Michael closed his eyes and began repeating what he just said, “Did you feel anything… when we kissed?”
Jeremy’s eyes widened slightly and he raised an eyebrow, “Well.. nothing I don't usually feel when I'm around you. What, exactly, do you mean by that?”
Michael was slightly disappointed and then he realized Jeremy asked for clarification. “I mean like.. I don't know. When- when we kissed.. It felt like my body was on fire. My heartbeat was so fast and.. to be honest, I.. I can't stop thinking about it. I'm sorry if this was weir-” He was quickly interrupted by the soft press of Jeremy’s lips against his own. Michael's eyes widened but, once he got his bearings, he leaned into the other.
Jeremy pulled away after a few seconds - but not being the all too familiar shutter-click of Vanessa's polaroid camera went off - and smiled brightly up at Michael.
“I hope that answers your question, Mike.” Jeremy laughed, his own cheeks. “I was really wondering when you'd notice. I.. uh.. I've liked you for a very long time.”
Michael's eyes were still wide and he couldn't quite believe what had just happened. His cheeks were now a bright red. However, he soon snapped out of his daze and realized he heard the camera click.
“Vanessa, PLEASE tell me you didn't take a picture of that!” Michael moved away from Jeremy and pratically sprinted towards the other room.
“Mike, wait!” Jeremy called out as he followed after his two friends.
Vanessa was busy trying to hide and dodge underneath several pieces of furniture while Michael chased her.
“Ness, please give me that picture. You don't know what will happen if my Dad find that. And you know how often he visits your dad. They literally work together.” Michael pleaded, crouching down to try and yank Vanessa out from underneath her bed.
“Fine, fine. Only because you're my friend, Michael. But you owe me film!” Vanessa caved, crawling out from underneath the bed and reluctantly handing over the polaroid.
Michael made a small movement of triumph, however, he quickly turned embarrassed when he took a closer look at the picture (which had almost fully developed by now). Apparently, Michael had placed his hand on the base of Jeremy's neck without noticing and the photo made it look as if he was pulling him in closer.
“So..,” Vanessa started as she took her two friends by their wrists and plopped them down on her bed, “did you two decide what you're going to call.. this?” She motioned to the two of them and raised her eyebrow. “I mean, if you decide to call it anything, that is.”
The boys shrugged and looked at each other. They were both silent for a moment and Jeremy finally spoke. “I know that your dad is.. kinda weird about this type of stuff, but my parents are cool with it. And.. if you're comfortable with it, I'd like to call myself your boyfriend, Mike. At.. at least to my parents.”
Michael remained silent for a moment, thinking over the options. After a few seconds, he nodded and placed his hand inside of Jeremy’s.
“I'd really like that, Jer. I'm just sorry that I can't tell my family. I mean, if my Mom was still here, she'd be supportive.” Michael replied as a small smile spread across his lips. Jeremy nodded and simply pulled him into a side hug. However, the cute moment was soon interrupted by Vanessa throwing herself in between the two and snapping another picture before they could protest.
“At least let me keep this one! It's just the three of us, so it's not incriminating!” Vanessa asked, already moving to make a sprint if she needed.
“Fine, fine. I have no objections there.”
The rest of the evening continued in much of the normal fashion: the three of them playing various games and making fun of each other. However, Michael caught himself glancing over at Jeremy more frequently. Soon, Michael knew it was time to head home.
“Hey, Mike, do you mind if I tag along on your walk home? I live a few minutes away from your place.” Jeremy asked, jogging up beside Michael after he walked out of Vanessa’s house.
Michael nodded with a smile. He'd secretly been hoping that Jeremy would suggest this. He loves Vanessa and all, but he wanted a few moments of just himself and Jeremy.
The lanky boy walked next to Michael and reached for his hand. Michael hesitated for a moment, looking around the neighborhood for any sign of his father, before taking Jeremy’s hand.
They continued on their walk until they were at Michael's doorstep. He said his goodbyes and - even though it hurt his heart - waved instead of sending Jeremy off with something more affectionate.
He fumbled with the door knob, the door then swung open and the creaky hinges alerted anyone within a 1,200 mile radius. Michael physically recoiled at the sound and entered the house - hoping for less noise.
He had made it less than a foot from the door before the trouble began. He noticed it instantly: the disappointed look in his father’s eyes. What did I do now? Michael thought, bracing himself for the worst possible outcome.
“Michael,” the agitating voice stated.
Well. Better get this over with.
“Father,” Michael replied, trying not to make the grit in his teeth obvious with his speech. He hated called William anything formal, especially since he was the only one of his siblings who had to.
“Do you have ANY idea of the distress you caused?”
“No, sir.”
“You know exactly what you did. Your poor brother came into my workshop crying. Do you know why that was?”
“Isn't the little shit always crying?”
“Don't get smart with me, boy. And, you will not use that kind of language when speaking to me, or this will get a whole lot worse for you. Understand?”
“Yes, sir.” Michael grits his teeth even harder.
“Now, your brother comes to me, and in his hands are the pieces of a prototype product for my new animatronic line. The fox plush.”
Shit.
“Michael, I will ask you one time. What did you do to the product?”
“I didn't know it was important, Father. He was making fun of me and I thought - Hey, he has enough toys. He won't miss this one. I destroyed it... to teach him a lesson.”
“Destroyed it to teach him a lesson? Fascinating. And how would you feel if something like that happened to your precious walkman? Or.. those.. cassette tapes with those grotesque songs you seem to enjoy? Hmm?”
Michael's face fell and he reared back in horror.
“You wouldn't.”
“Oh, believe me, Michael. I would. As a matter of fact, go pick out your favorites and bring them to me. Along with the scissors.”
This completely ruined his good mood from today, but he knew that there was no getting out of this. Michael begrudgingly went into his bedroom, crouched down, and riffled through his box of cassette tapes. Of course, he was smart enough not to choose his actual favorites. He chose some he wouldn't mind losing (probably those he was recommended and didn't like as well as the others) and stashed his favorites inside of his sock drawer - along with the polaroid of himself and Jeremy.
Michael hesitated before handing several tapes and a pair of sharp scissors to his father. He cringed as his father opened the latch that concealed the tape and began unwinding - cutting each segment until all that was left was a pile of tape shreddings and several plastic cases.
“I hope you've learned your lesson, Michael. If this happens again, I will fish around for every single tape you've hidden. Now, clean this up.”
Michael gulped in surprise; how did his father know he had hidden several tapes? His mouth remained agape as he bent down and began cleaning up the remains of his music taste.
The staleness of the room only dimmed his mood: the too dark carpet with mysterious stains, the uneven curtains with several moth-eaten holes, the overall greyness of the place. It wasn't a mystery why William had destroyed his tapes, the man clearly had a love of all things boring and soulless.
Once he had finished, Michael knew he couldn't stay here. He entered his bedroom, making sure to lock the door the from inside. He looked around for a bit before grabbing a draw-string bag from his closet and began stuffing clothes inside of it. All packed, Michael once again cracked open his window and crept outside - leaving it open enough for him to enter once he got back. If he came back, of course.
He really only had one place to go - and the fact that there was only one person he wanted to see.
The gloomy atmosphere from his apartment seemed to drift out into the streets: the skies were much darker than before and there was a certain musk that meant it was going to rain soon. Because of Michael's quick packing, he was ill-prepared for the rain.
Better walk fast, I guess. I've still got three blocks to go. Michael thought to himself, tugging on the strings on his bag to ensure it was secured. However, the rain came much faster than he could walk and soon he was drenched - with still a block and a half to go. There looked to be no end in sight for the sudden monsune of rain. Just my luck. Just my fucking luck.
He began sprinting, his brightly colored sneakers squeaking against the pavement and his body getting continuously soaked. By the time he arrived at Jeremy’s, he looked like a kitten someone had just given a bath - completely soaked and fuming. He hesitated for a moment before knocking on the door.
Who answered, however, was not who he expected. A polite, older woman (who he knew as Mrs. Fitzgerald) answered the door with a look of utter concern.
“Michael, honey! You're soaking wet.” Her smooth voice radiated with motherly concern and the slight southern twang made everything feel more homey.
“I apologize for showing up uninvited, Mrs. Fitzgerald.” Michael replied sheepishly, “I.. I can leave if it's too much of a bother.”
“Nonsense! You get in here and dry off. I'll let Jeremy know you're here. It's a wonder you didn't get swept away in this terrible storm,” Mrs. Fitzgerald replied, opening the door wide enough to let Michael in before closing it to prevent any more cool air from seeping in.
Michael thanked the woman once again and politely wiped his feet on the mat. Mrs. Fitzgerald turned around and looked at his clothes once more.
“Oh dear.. You're completely soaked through. Don't worry, I'm sure either Jeremy or my husband have something you can borrow. I'll get those washed and dried for you soon, sweetheart. You stay right here. I'll go find you something nice.”
Michael nodded, having really no other option than to wait for Mrs. Fitzgerald to come back. Soon the woman returned with a large pile of clothing - from t-shirts with interesting tie-dye patterns to large, oversized sweaters that Michael was pretty sure he could use as a blanket if he needed to. He was soon completely dried and dressed from head to toe in the warmest clothes Jeremy’s mother could stuff him in. He quickly handed his sopping wet clothing to Mrs. Fitzgerald and gave her another round of thanks.
As he did this, Jeremy practically ran down the stairs.
“Mike? Is something wrong?” The blonde asked, concern filling his voice. He moved closer and began checking Michael’s hands and arms for any sign of injuries.
“I'm fine, Jer, seriously.” Michael gave him a reassuring smile and placed a caring hand onto his shoulder, “can we just go talk in your room? I.. I couldn't stay at home tonight.”
Jeremy nodded and motioned for Michael to follow him up the stairs. Once upstairs, Michael was simply blown away. This room was basically identical to the person who lived in it: colorful, full of life, and it had a sort of “I'm at home” feeling. Jeremy’s room at everything - from too many blankets to count to the newest NES system. Michael had only been in here once before, as the three of them usually went to his house or Vanessa's, but it still amazed him how much it replicated Jeremy’s personality.
Jeremy sat on the edge of his bed and motioned for Michael to join him, to which he quickly obliged. The two talked for a while - mostly just Michael avoiding the topic he originally intended to talk about - and eventually Michael grew restless of sitting and laid himself across Jeremy’s lap. Jeremy smiled down at him and absentmindedly began twirling a strand of Michael's long hair around his finger.
“Mike, can you please tell me what happened? I know when you're avoiding talking about something.” Jeremy scolded, a small pout forming on his lips. He had been Michael’s best friend for year, of course he was going to pick up on the little things - especially when Michael wasn't being entirely truthful.
“Fine, fine. I did something stupid, okay? That brat of a brother I have heard something he shouldn't have and I decided he needed a little payback,” Michael started, slightly embarrassed that he'd have to tell this to Jeremy - of all people - because Jeremy was part of the reason he did this, “anyway, so.. I took one of his plush toys that he left in my doorway and I.. ripped it up.”
Jeremy raised his eyebrow, as if to question why this meant he was not able to stay home, but he didn't interrupt Michael.
“Well, it turns out that it didn't actually belong to the little shit. It was something Father was working on. A prototype, I don't know,” Michael made a shrugging gesture and continued with his explanation, “Either way, let's just say he wasn't too thrilled about the damage done to it. And uh.. several of my tapes got the axe. I managed to hide the best ones, but I doubt they'll last for long.”
“That's.. awful. Mike, I'm so sorry.” Jeremy’s frown deepened and he brushed a small strand of Michael’s hair away from his face.
“Nah, I probably had it coming. He just.. he makes me so angry sometimes, Jeremy. I fight so hard for his attention and yet some snot nosed crybaby gets it for free? How is that fair?” Michael's face morphed into a frown and he crossed his arms over his chest.
“Aw, Mike. I'm sure he doesn't mean to ignore you. Look, you're wonderful. If he doesn't see that, than it's his problem.” Jeremy leaned over, making his face a few inches away from Michael's, and placing a hand on his chin.
Seeing that Michael’s frown still remained, Jeremy pressed a small kiss against his lips. And another. And another. Until Michael finally smiled and playfully pushed him off.
“Jer, you're going to suffocate me,” Michael teased, laughing as he kept his hand up to prevent any further kiss attacks.
“Well, it's not my fault! I couldn't just let you be sad.”
Michael rolled his eyes and gave Jeremy one more playful shove, “Jeremy Fitzgerald, you are insufferable.” However, Michael was glad for the distraction. He moved from his position on Jeremy's lap and laid down across the end of the blonde’s bed - spreading out like a starfish. Tonight was just perfect; absolutely nothing could ruin Michael's night.
Or so he thought.
Back at Michael’s house, everything was not as peaceful as the Fitzgeralds’. William was knocking on Michael's door - but he received no response, obviously.
“Michael? I told you not to lock your door.”
Silence.
“Michael?”
More silence.
William tried the handle one more time, getting increasingly more angry when it continued not to open.
William walked outside, retracing what little footsteps hadn't been washed away in the rainstorm. However, Michael's “sneaky escape” hadn't been as sneaky as he had hoped. William instantly noticed the trampled flowers which Michael had climbed down onto. This caused him to look up and notice the window slightly ajar.
Michael, Michael, Michael.. Oh, I wish I raised you better. William thought to himself, shaking his head with a loud “tsk-tsk.” He quickly hoisted himself onto the ledge and opened the window - making sure to close it at just the right height to make it seem unnoticeable in case Michael returned sooner than he expected.
You've brought this on yourself, Michael. William tsk’d once again before he began rummaging through Michael’s drawers - taking any tape he could find. When he got to the last drawer, however, he noticed something that wasn't.. quite a tape. It was flipped upside down, but it was evident that it was a polaroid of some kind.
William pondered for a moment before picking it up and flipping it over to check the contents. He reared back in horror upon seeing what it was: a picture of his son and some blonde boy together.
William was seething as he crumpled the photo in his palm and he began searching faster for the remaining tapes. Once he had them, William placed all the tapes into a bag and - after unlocking the door - took them outside and grabbed one of his favorite instruments: the hammer.
Smash!
Crunch!
Crack!
William hefted the hammer over his shoulder again and again until there was nothing left but shards of plastic and several unwound tapes. His breathing grew ragged as his anger continued to overtake him. Eventually, he placed the hammer down and stood up - dusting off his pants and walking back inside.
Now, he needed to wait for Michael to return. And where else than his son’s bedroom.
Michael had closed his eyes and was listening to the sounds of Jeremy’s room, which were all incredibly calming. He could hear the faint rain against Jeremy's window, the sound of his own breathing, the emptiness in his mind. Everything was quiet, just as it should be. He heard the creak of the steps and the following soft click of the door opening. Jeremy had stepped out a while ago to find them some snacks, and apparently, he had succeeded. The sound of rustling chip bags (and Jeremy struggling to get inside the door) shook Michael out of his stupor and he quickly went to help, opening the door wide enough for Jeremy and his armful of prizes to enter.
“My knight in shining armor,” Jeremy joked, sending a bright smile towards Michael. “I was wondering when you'd open the door.”
“Oh, really? Did I not move fast enough for you, your highness?” Michael teased back and sent and eyeroll towards the blonde. “Here, let me help you.” He grabbed a few of the spoils from Jeremy’s arms and arranged them in a makeshift pile - it wasn't neat, but it was the best he could do without putting them on the floor.
Jeremy thanked him before placing the remaining spoils into the pile - they had enough snacks to last for weeks. Michael sat down and scooped out a handful of chips, popping one into his mouth and occasionally trying to catch them. Jeremy plopped himself down next to Michael and leaned his head against his shoulder. This caused Michael to widen his eyes in surprise. He really didn't know what to do in this situation. He hadn't been in a relationship before - let alone with someone like Jeremy. He hesitated and then placed his hand on Jeremy's lower back.
A soft knock on the door caused Michael to look up. Michael felt his pace quicken: this would be one of Jeremy's parents, which worried him. He knew they were more accepting than his own Father, but he also didn't know what they would be willing to accept. Plus, Jeremy was currently laying against him - which would be hard to explain if they weren't accepting.
Before he could think, the door slowly opened and Mrs Fitzgerald stuck her head inside.
“Oh! Sorry, boys. I didn't realize you were busy! I made some cookies and I.. I wanted to share some with you,” She spoke, slightly embarrassed that they already had so many snacks.
“No thanks, Mom. We’re good,” Jeremy spoke, smiling at his mother. He thought for a moment before adding, “Hey.. Mom?”
“Yes, honey?”
“Come in here.. Uh. Mike and I want to tell you something,” Jeremy spoke, briefly standing up to open the door and motion for his mother in.
Michael locked eyes with his boyfriend as if telepathically saying “are we really doing this??” Jeremy simply laughed in response and walked back over to Michael, offering the brown haired boy his hand. Michael hesitated before taking Jeremy's hand and standing up next to him.
Jeremy took a deep breath and wrapped his arm around Michael's shoulders. “Mom.. Michael and I.. are,” he begun shaking a little and Michael quickly turned his head towards Jeremy and gave a reassuring squeeze to his shoulder. He quietly whispered something encouraging to the blonde and turned back towards Jeremy’s mother.
“Mom. Michael and I are.. dating. He's my boyfriend,” Jeremy finally managed to speak the words (and release the breath he didn't know he was holding) and then he looked towards his mother, awaiting her response.
Jeremy's mother was silent for a while and then she broke out into a big grin. She moved closer to the two boys and wrapped them into a hug.
“Oh, sweetheart, I'm so happy for you. Thank you so much for telling me,” Mrs. Fitzgerald spoke softly, moving her hands and gently cupping Jeremy’s face.
“Mooom, you're embarrassing me,” Jeremy complained, trying to wriggle out of his mother’s grasp. Michael couldn't help but smile at the scene, however, something inside him hurt. He realized he could never experience this situation. To be honest, it made him jealous. But he'd never tell Jeremy that, of course. Just because Michael's family had not been the best didn't mean he needed to ruin someone else’s happiness.
“Oh, Michael, get in here! Let me give you a big hug. You have no idea how happy my Jeremy-Bear is when he talks about you,” Mrs. Fitzgerald spoke, quickly moving to drag Michael into the hug once again before he could protest. “I'm very proud of both of you boys. I know it's tough to tell someone something like this.”
She gave them each one more tender, motherly arm squeeze before exiting back down the stairs.
“Your mom is so sweet, Jer,” Michael spoke once Mrs. Fitzgerald had left, though he didn't seem to notice the sadness that had seeped into his voice. But Jeremy did. He always did. He felt Jeremy's arms wrapped around him before he heard him move.
“She loves you, Mike.” Jeremy spoke softly, his grip tightening slightly around the shorter boy.
Michael smiled sadly and nodded before burying his head in the crook of Jeremy's neck. “I'm glad someone does, at least.”
“Don’t you dare say shit like that again, Michael Afton. You have so many people who care about you - my parents, Vanessa, Vanessa’s parents, me! Your dad can go to hell.”
Michael sort of shrugged, but made no effort to respond. Jeremy moved back a bit, gripping Michael by both shoulders, and shook him.
“I’m serious. You're so important to everyone around you. Who cares what your father thinks?”
“Sorry-”
“No. You have nothing to apologize for. None of this is your fault. Life dealt you a bad hand - but, Mike, you're the strongest person I know. Most people would've crumbled by now.” Jeremy cut him off before Michael could apologize any more, cupping the sides of his face so Michael was looking him in the eye.
“I'm so tired, Jeremy. Everyday he gets worse, I never know when he’ll snap next.”
“Yes, but you shouldn't have to! That's the thing.”
“Please.. can we just drop it?” Michael avoided Jeremy’s gaze and began fidgeting with the sleeves of his borrowed sweater.
“You're right, I'm sorry,” Jeremy apologized and released Michael's face. Then, he realized that Michael probably was physically tired, too. “C'mon, let's head to bed. It's been a wild day. Plus, the rain doesn't seem to be letting up anytime soon. I'm sure my Mom wouldn't mind you staying the night.”
Before Michael could respond, Jeremy had moved away and began untucking the layers of blankets that seemed to hide his bed.
Jeremy grabbed Michael's wrist and gently pulled him towards the bed and sat him down.
“You can use as many blankets as you want, I don't mind!” Jeremy beamed. He then preceded to have an “oh!” moment and disappeared inside his closet. Michael heard lots of rummaging and his curiosity continued to grow. Soon, Jeremy emerged once again. This time, he was holding a pair of pajamas with various pictures of E.T. littered across them.
“They might be a little big, but you can borrow them for the night,” Jeremy spoke as he walked over and placed them in Michael’s hands, “unless you want to sleep in old jeans..?” He raised an eyebrow, though it was nothing more than teasing.
Michael rolled his eyes, thanked Jeremy, and quickly went to change into the pajamas. Once he returned, he nearly folded his borrowed clothing and placed them on the nearest flat surface. He hesitated a bit - unsure of where he should lay down. However, Jeremy quickly patted the spot next to him on his bed.
“I don't mind sharing, really. And! I don't bite. Mostly,” Jeremy reassured the shorter as he scooted over to make room. “Besides, we did this at plenty of sleep overs before. Just think of it like that!”
Michael nodded and laid down next to Jeremy, who gave him another reassuring smile. “Thanks. I'm sorry for imposing myself on you, especially without calling first.” He whispered while pulling some blankets over the two of them.
“Nah, don't worry about it. You're welcome any time you like.”
The two sat in silence for a while and eventually Jeremy began to drift off. Michael hesitated, thinking over his next decision carefully, and then impulsively turned and rested his head against Jeremy's chest.
Jeremy let out a sleepy “huh?” at the feeling of weight on his chest and then smiled when he realized what Michael had done. He let his arms naturally fall and land on Michael's upper back, however one moved to its earlier position of twirling a few strands of Michael's hair around his fingers.
A few more minutes of silence pass and Jeremy begins to drift off once again, however he is quickly interrupted.
“Jeremy?” Michael asked quietly, waiting a bit to see if Jeremy had fully fallen asleep.
“Mm?” Jeremy replied with a sleepy mumble.
“Why is everything in my life so difficult?”
“I don't know, Mike.. I really don't know.”
Michael sighed and decided that would be the best answer he'd get - unless he wanted some sort of religious spiel about certain plans and whatnot. He left Jeremy return to sleep before joining him a few minutes later. He decided he better enjoy this moment while it lasted, despite the bubbling anxiety that was welling up in his stomach. He certainly didn't look forward to returning home tomorrow.
One problem at a time, Mike. One problem at a time. He thought to himself as he was finally able to drift off to sleep.
Turns out it would be several problems at one time.
Michael dressed in his (now clean and dry, thanks to Mrs. Fitzgerald) clothes from the previous day and began his trek back to his own apartment - making sure to pick a time he knew William would be working in the hellscape he called his workshop.
He carefully retraced his usual path and made it to the front lawn. Taking another step, Michael heard a loud crunch. He looked around noticed several objects glinting in the sun and went over to investigate. Michael felt his heart sank when he realized it was pieces of plastic. He knelt down and took a closer look, finding the pieces of all his favorite tapes. And, he was pretty sure he had his favorite songs stuck to the bottom of his shoe.
Damn it, Michael thought as he sighed and moved away from the pile of plastic scraps, I guess he noticed I was gone.
He shook his head and continued toward his bedroom window - which looked exactly the same as he had left it the night before.
Not thinking anything of it, and with the rain having washed away any evidence of William’s entrance, Michael pushed open his window and hoisted himself inside. He landed with a small “oomph” and dusted his pants off. While dusting his pants, however, he noticed another shadow present in the room. He slowly looked up and locked eyes with none other than William himself.
“William Michael Afton, where have you been?” William spoke, his arms crossed over his chest and he stood in a powerful stance. However, Michael noticed there was something crumpled in his left fist.
“Don't fucking call me that. My name is Michael,” Michael spat back, absolutely seething at being called his legal name - no one EVER called him by that, he'd probably punch them if they did.
“I wouldn't be so sure, Junior. You see, I was the one who named you. I think I know what your name is.” There he went again, dismissing Michael's entire personhood. Well, it wasn't anything he wasn't used to. Michael used to cry every night until his Mother finally agreed to let him go by Michael instead.
“Anyway, you haven't answered my question. Where. The. Hell. Have. You. Been?” William spoke again, moving closer and jabbing a finger harshly into Michael's ribs with every word. “Answer me.”
“Nowhere, sir.”
“Are you sure that's the answer you want to go with?” William narrows his eyes, leaning over his son in an attempt to make him cave in; shrink himself down and disappear. After all, that's what he wants. For Michael to disappear.
Michael briefly glanced at his father's eyes, noting the only emotions present were anger and boredom. That's how he always looked at Michael, though sometimes there was a sprinkle of disappointment. He looked back at the floor and gulped. Just tell him, Egghead. He already knows you left. He mentally scolded himself before speaking.
“A friend’s. I was at a friend’s house, Father.”
“Hmm,” William pursed his lips and scrutinized Michael’s body language and tone for any hint of dishonesty. “Which friend, exactly?”
Michael gulped once again. If he told him, he risked putting Jeremy in danger. But if he didn't, then he put himself in danger. No big deal, he could handle that. But he desperately wanted to protect Jeremy, so he remained silent.
“Answer me, goddamn it!” William raised his voice, his hand flying to the collar of Michael's shirt. Michael still remained silent, even as William had slammed him into the bookshelf and sent several personal objects (some of them glass) cascading to the floor with a loud crash.
Michael had to bite his lip to avoid crying out in pain - he was sure that he would have a few bruises, most likely cuts too, since the glasses broke on the impact and gashed through his windbreaker, managing to hit skin. Another large glass photo frame crashed into his face and left a large gash across his left eye and a bruise across his cheekbone.
“Your silence is not his protection, you know,” William whispered, setting Michael back on the ground and releasing his collar.
“W.. what are you talking about?” Michael spoke, straightening his jacket and still refusing to look at William.
“Don't play dumb with me,” William finally unfurled his left fist and revealed a crumpled up polaroid. Michael's heart sank once again; he knew exactly what that was. “If that faggot Fitzgerald is making you think you're one of those queers, I will never let you see him again.”
“N-no.. that's not.. He's not.. Uh.. I'm not-” Michael shook his head furiously, scrambling to come up with an excuse.
“I don't care what he does in his own home, but he will not infect mine. Not with this.. disease,” William scoffed and shoved the polaroid into Michael’s face - trying to emphasize what exactly the ‘disease’ was.
“If you ever pull something like this again, I will destroy more things than you cassette tapes, William Michael Afton.”
“Stop. Stop fucking calling me that,” Michael finally broke out of his stupor and began shaking uncontrollably. His anger was beginning to take control of him and he hated how much it made him look like William.
“Just.. leave me alone. I'm not gay, alright! It was just some stupid dare. It didn't mean anything. Vanessa took the picture as a joke, okay? It's all one big fucking joke!” The words felt like poison leaving Michael's mouth, they burned as they bubbled through his throat. He felt awful for not being able to defend himself or Jeremy. He felt awful that William was his father. He just felt awful.
“Good. Then you won't be needing this, will you?” William asked, the hatred evident in his voice. Michael looked up just as he heard the first rip - right through Jeremy’s face on the polaroid. He felt a pang in his heart but simply shook his head “no.” William continued until the entire thing was no more than a few paper scraps with what remained of Jeremy and Michael’s facial features.
“Oh, and clean up this room.” And with that, William stormed out once again. Michael slid down the backside of his door and crumpled to his knees. He had never felt so empty and alone in his life. He desperately wanted to cry but he would not give William the satisfaction over controlling his emotions. He would not cry. He would not cry. He would not cry.
A single tear began trailing down his cheek. He would cry.
Brrng Brrrng
The phone rang for what felt like the seventeenth time. It was getting on William’s nerves. He started to call out for someone else to answer it, but he couldn't exactly say “hey, Michael, I know we had a little argument yesterday but can you answer the phone? Pretty please??” and bat his eyelids. He groaned and rolled up his oil-covered sleeves, grabbing the nearest cloth like object and wiping off his hands.
William begrudgingly answered the phone with a slightly annoyed sounding “'Ello?”
“Mr. Afton! I'm sorry. I was trying to reach Michael.. we were supposed to hang out today,” the voice spoke through the speaker. It sounded very embarrassed to have called the wrong person.
“Who is this?”
“Oh! Umm.. It’s Jeremy, sir. Jeremy Fitzgerald?... Michael's.. best friend..?”
“Ah. Fitzgerald, yes. I remember… Michael is not available right now. He seems to.. have come down with a cold. He was complaining about.. cold rain and having to walk through it earlier.” William scrambled to come up with an excuse. This was the boy who was fond of his son? Now was the perfect chance to ruin whatever budding relationship they might've had.
“Actually, Johnny,”
“Jeremy.”
“Whatever. Let me see if Michael will be willing to take your call.”
William had the perfect plan, and it involved his newest prototype: the Hand Unit, now with built in voice synthesizer and voice capture abilities. Of course, William who was always plotting, and had recorded his argument with Michael the night before. He fiddled around with the buttons on the Hand Unit and switched it to the “angsty teen” setting - one he designed specifically to sound like Michael. Once he had it set up, he took his hand off of the receiver and made a test ‘hello?’
“Mike? Oh, thank God! I was worried you'd never pick up.” Jeremy's voice sounded through the speaker once again and William scowled at the relief he heard. Teenagers are so gullible these days.
“Jeremy?” William typed into the touchpad on the Hand Unit, amazed at his own handiwork and how clear it came out.
“Are you still able to come over today?”
William pressed a few more buttons, spewing out the first of the pre-recorded messages: “What are you talking about?”
“Don't you remember? You said you'd try to come over later today.”
William rolled his eyes and began flipping a few switches. It's now or never, I guess. He thought to himself as he searched through the messages for the real zinger: “Just.. leave me alone.”
“What..?”
“I'm not gay, alright! It was just some stupid dare. It didn't mean anything. Vanessa took the picture as a joke, okay? It's all one big fucking joke!” William’s lips moved into an evil smile as he awaited Jeremy’s response. This is more fun than I imagined. He thought to himself, giving him an imaginary pat on the back.
“Mike? You.. you don't mean that, right?” The hurt in the boy’s voice almost made William feel bad. Almost.
He had one final phrase to say and loaded it in as fast as he could: “Stop fucking calling me.”
Just as the Hand Unit finished the last sentence, it began to short out. William groaned in frustration and accidentally took his hand off the receiver, “Blasted thing. I thought I fixed that.” However, William did not realize that Jeremy very clearly heard that. William quickly hung up the phone and returned to his work, which now included fixing the Hand Unit.
Jeremy was a mixture of hurt and confused, had Michael actually said those things? And what was that strange thing Mr. Afton had said? “Blasted thing?” Something seemed fishy here, and he was going to figure out what happened.
Jeremy practically stormed out of his house, sprinting down the sidewalk as fast as his lanky build could carry him. By the time he arrived at the Afton’s doorstep, he was out of breath. He quickly knocked on the front door before hunching over to regain control of his breathing.
No answer. That's odd. They always answer on the first knock. Jeremy thought to himself. How else could he get in? And then it hit him; Michael's window. He grabbed a few pebbles (in case the window wasn't already open) and trekked around the side of the building.
Just his luck, the window was firmly shut. Jeremy selected a medium sized pebble, said a silent prayer that this glass was reinforced, and gently threw the pebble towards the small window. It landed against the glass with a small thump. Jeremy thanked whatever higher being that it hadn't shattered instantly
Seeing that there was no response to the first pebble, Jeremy picked up another and threw it much harder.
Michael glanced over at the sudden noise, just in time to see a small object land against his window. He pushed himself off the floor - wincing slightly as his injuries were still fresh (and had been left untreated). He shuffled over and glanced outside. Seeing that someone was outside (and actively throwing pebbles), Michael opened his window and tried to get a better look.
“Jeremy? What are you doing here?” Michael asked - confusion and a headache swarmed around his skull.
“Mike! I tried the front door but no one answered. I needed to talk to you in person.” Jeremy looked relieved when Michael had actually opened the doors. He placed down his handful of pebbles and began climbing in through the window.
Once he was inside, he dusted himself off and then finally looked at Michael.
“Oh.. Mike, what happened?” Jeremy walked over and gently grabbed Michael's chin, turning his head towards the light so he could better see the damage. The entire left side of Michael's face was swollen and slightly purple from the new bruising. Jeremy subconsciously ran his thumb over Michael's swollen lip, though he quickly moved his hand back when Michael flinched.
Jeremy took a closer look at the room and quickly noticed the large amount of broken glass that little Michael's bedroom floor.
“I'm fine, Jeremy. I.. tripped… into the bookshelf. And took a picture frame right to the face,” Michael quickly lied, even adding a chuckle to make it seem more accident like.
“We need to get you to a doctor, Michael. This could be seriously infected!” Jeremy moved back over to Michael and motioned to his injured face.
“No!” Michael snapped, then realized his tone and softened his words as he continued speaking, “No doctors. They'll.. they'll ask questions I'm not prepared to answer, okay? I'm fine.”
“Fine, but at least let me use a first aid kit, okay? I don't want there to be an infection,” Jeremy didn't even wait on a reply before fishing around in his bag full of necessary items, that he ALWAYS carried with him, and pulling out a small, travel sized first aid kit.
Jeremy sat down on Michael's bed and motioned for him to sit down as well. Michael obliged, though he was hesitant to let Jeremy doctor his wounds.
“By the way, Mike,” Jeremy began speaking in between Michael's winces as the cold antiseptic touched his face, “did you answer the phone earlier?”
“No..? I haven't left my room all day,” Michael shrugged and motioned to the state he was currently in, “Besides, Father banned me from using the phones.”
“Then.. who did I speak to earlier? It sounded just like you.. and you said some really mean things.” Jeremy's brow furrowed as he thought back to the earlier phone conversation.
Michael's eyes widened. Someone had spoken to Jeremy and pretended to be him? Not only that, but they apparently said something awful?
“If.. you don't mind me asking, what sort of things were said?” Michael asked, glancing up at Jeremy - who was still in deep thought.
“Well, first of all, you acted like you had no idea about our plans. Then, you started saying that.. that everything was just a joke and that you only did this because it was a dare. And that it meant nothing.. It really hurt to hear you say that,” Jeremy frowned, scanning Michael's face for any recognition for the words.
“Did the person say anything else?”
“Well, you said.. ‘stop fucking calling me’. And then the phone hung up.” Jeremy shrugged and searched his own memory for anything else that happened.
Michael's own expression was one of horror, he had recalled all of those things - but he distinctly remembered saying them to his father, not Jeremy.
“Jeremy, all those things.. They were part of an argument with my Father. He.. I was just trying to protect you. I didn't mean anything I said to him. I don't know how you heard it, but none of it was true,” Michael spoke softly, reaching over and gently squeezing Jeremy's hand.
“And that last part?”
“He kept calling me by my legal name - not Michael. The full context was ‘stop fucking calling me that'. I would never tell you to stop calling me.” Michael noticed how hurt Jeremy had seemed and placed a gentle hand on his cheek, “Please believe me, Jer. I'm sorry if my image was used to hurt you.”
Jeremy leaned into Michael's hand before placing his own on top of it. “I do believe you. But there was something else. Something weird.”
“What?”
“After the last sentence, it didn't instantly hang up. It sounded like wires shortcircuiting - oh, and I heard someone say ‘Blasted thing’,” Jeremy recalled, trying to give Michael as much detail as possible to help solve this mystery, “any ideas?”
Michael's expression dropped: he knew exactly what this was. “My father.”
Jeremy cocked his head to the side, clearly confused by this statement, “What do you mean by that?”
“My father. He's the one behind it. He.. he threatened that I would never be able to talk to you again. I.. I didn't know he'd do something like this, though.” Michael shook his head as the dots all seemed to connect in his brain.
Jeremy made another sort of ‘okay he's lost his mind’ gesture and his confusion continued to grow.
“Jeremy, he makes things. It's not impossible he could make something that captured the argument he and I had. What if.. what if he used that to try and dissuade you from.. from seeing me.” Michael placed his hand on Jeremy's shoulder and continued to gesture with his other. His eyes were wild as he realized just how far his father planned ahead. His breathing grew faster and his chest felt tight. How much had his father known? What else would he know?
Everything was too loud. Michael felt as if the walls were closing in around him. He began shaking once again. He didn't even seem to notice Jeremy calling his name. He was having an anxiety attack. Michael hadn't experienced one this bad since after his mother had passed away. Everything felt distant and like it was too close at the same time.
“Mike? Mike?” Jeremy's concerned voice couldn't reach him. “Michael?” The concern grew even louder.
Jeremy hesitated before placing his hands on both sides of Michael's face. “Mike, look at me. You're okay. It's okay.”
Michael remained frozen in place for a few more seconds until he felt the warmth of Jeremy’s hands against his cheeks. He slowly came back to reality, focusing on Jeremy's face instead of his overwhelming thoughts.
Jeremy stayed like that until Michael had calmed down enough to speak.
“I'm sorry for scaring you, Jer..” He trailed off, still worked up from the moments before.
Jeremy simply shook his head and wrapped his arms around Michael, pulling him as close as he could and hugging him as tightly as he dared - he was still unsure where else the injuries had spread and didn't want to harm Michael even more. Jeremy kept repeating “it's okay, you're okay” while gently rubbing his hand up and down Michael's back.
Michael sank into Jeremy’s arms and sniffled slightly. Jeremy placed a gentle kiss onto the top of Michael's hair.
“We’ll figure this out, Mike. Together.” Jeremy spoke before resting his chin on the top of his head. “We don't have to do anything right now, okay?”
Michael nodded and remained in this position until he completely calmed down.
“Jeremy, can we leave? Tonight? I don't want to be around him anymore.” Michael asked as he finally removed his head off of Jeremy's shoulder. He looked up at him hopefully, eagerly awaiting his response.
“Okay. If you want to,” Jeremy spoke, gently tucking a loose strand of hair behind Michael's ear, “I'm sure my mom won't mind.”
So the two packed until Michael's room was completely empty. They carried as much as their backpacks could hold. Then they ran as fast as their legs could carry them. They ran until they were gasping for air.
The two of them soon arrived at the Fitzgerald household - where Mrs. Fitzgerald let them in without any questions. She was familiar with William's harsh parenting styles and knew that questions made Michael uncomfortable.
She quickly hugged Michael and agreed to let him stay as long as he wanted. Michael felt the burning of tears well up in his eyes. It's been a long time since he had a place where he felt wanted. It was quite nice.
15 notes · View notes
h2bakugou · 4 years
Note
Katsuki trapped and tied up (like how the LOV has him tied up in a chair) all while S/O is teasing him like crazy and fucks the shit out of him. You think Katsuki would enjoy it?
a/n: i haven’t written smut in a minute eye- yes! thank you for the request love! i tried to keep this as gender-neutral as possible!
all characters aged up 18+ au!!
summary: wanting to try something new, you convince katsuki to trust you and you end up being the dom this time around.
key: (y/n) - your name / (f/n) - first name / (l/n) - last name / (e/c) - eye color / (h/c) - hair color / (y/q) - your quirk
warnings: swearing, smut
wordcount: 1.4k
nsfw under the cut!!
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It was hard trying to convince Bakugou to let you have full control. Don’t get me wrong, Bakugou being in control was amazing, it was everything and more. But you wanted to switch things up.
“Babe-”
“Why should I let you?” Bakugou glared at you. He was cocky, and always wanted to have the situation in his hands. He was pulling the reigns all the time, and it was never a bad thing, you just wanted to see how he would react to what you had planned.
“Just this once. It’s all I’m asking, just trust me and let me lead.” You smiled, wrapping your arms around his neck, your lips awfully close to his.
“Who knows, you might just love it.” You whispered, pulling your mouth back to his ear, biting it in a teasing manner.
Bakugou’s hands gripped your hips harshly, sure to leave a small bruise. It wouldn’t be the first time he’s bruised you from gripping you tightly, it wasn’t like he was doing it on purpose.
Bakugou let out a growl, forcing his lips onto your neck. You smiled, letting out a mewl of pleasure as he sucked on your sweet spot.
“Katsuki.” You purr, pulling away as you snake the piece of fabric out of your pocket. He eyes you as you drape it over his eyes, leaving him completely blinding him for the moment.
Dragging Katsuki back to the bedroom was difficult. He was hesitant, but you reassured him everything was going to be okay.
“And if at any point, you want to stop, use the safe word okay?” You make sure to speak clearly.
“Just get on with it.” Bakugou grumbled. He wouldn’t admit it, but seeing you all dominant was hot. 
When you finally reached the bedroom, you pulled the chair you’d be using over and made sure to grab the restraints you’d purchased. Being blindfolded, Bakugou could only use a few of his sense to try and figure out what was happening.
“I’ve got to admit, you’re never usually this quiet.” You begin running your hand down his chest, your fingers diligently gripping at the hem of his shirt, pulling it off of him within seconds. 
“Yeah and you’d usually be screaming for me to-”
“Shhh. Katsuki, I never said the silence was a bad thing.” You cut him off, kissing down his abs. Your fingers moved to play with the hem of his pants, teasing him ever so slightly.  He was tired of waiting.
He moved his hands and forcefully undid his pants, dropping them down to the floor along with his boxers.
That’s when he felt it. Cold metal against his wrist. A handcuff?
“Hey what the-”
“I’m in control Katsuki.” Your tone had changed. You were in control tonight, and he’d already taken one step into his hands. Cheeky little shit.
Pulling him over to the chair you sat him down and pulled his wrists behind the chair, connecting the remaining handcuff to his free wrist. He’d successfully been restrained. But you weren’t finished.
You removed the blindfold and allowed him to see you. Bakugou’s eyes fell on you as he admired you. You were still wearing what you’d been in previously before you blindfolded him.
You began to strip, taking your time with everything. When you’d finally taken off your top, Bakugou was surprised.
“Should’ve expected that.” He commented, a smirk resting on his lips.
You took a few steps forward and gripped his chin with your hand. You tilted his head up and smiled down at him, bringing your lips dauntingly close to his.
“You got so hard just by looking at me? I’m flattered.” You pulled away. You allowed him to watch as you took your pants off, leaving him shocked by the lack of underwear. 
Finally, you sat down on his knees, your hands travelling down his abdomen toward his now erect cock.
Bakugou let out a grunt of pleasure as your hands connected to his cock, pumping him between your hands. He tilted his head back, allowing you access to attack his neck with hickeys.
“You’ve got such a big cock, I can’t wait for it to fill me up.” You praise him, knowing it hits all the right spots for him.
As if on cue, his hips bucked up into your hands as you jerked him off, earning a satisfied groan from Katsuki.
You edged him on, getting him to the point just before he unraveled before stopping. His head shot up.
“Hey!” He growled, but your hand under his chin stopped him. You looked into his eyes before leaning in to whisper in his ear.
“You get to cum when I say too.”
Bakugou couldn’t tell you how many times he’d used that line on you, but he figured it was about time for payback. He was going to make sure you couldn’t walk for a week after this little stunt was all over.
You crawled off of his lap, slinking to the floor, resting on your knees in between his legs. From your position, you grabbed the restraints that were attached to the legs of the chair, restraining his legs further.
You looked up before strapping one of his legs in, making sure he was still okay with this. You heard the clicking of the lock as it snapped in place, securely keeping one leg restrained.
You did so with his other leg, leaving him almost completely immobile. 
Pulling yourself closer in between his legs, you licked a stripe up the underside of his cock, his hands fighting against the handcuffs. He so badly wanted to tangle his hands in your hair and have you choke on his dick.
You ignored the obvious thrust of his hips as you sucked on his pink tip. Opening your mouth wider to take him fully in, another rogue thrust sent his cock down your throat, causing you to gag, tears pricking your eyes.
Lewd sucking noises filled Bakugou’s ears as he felt himself get riled up again. The sound alone was enough to send him over the edge. He wanted to cum. 
“Fuck!” Bakugou called out, the metal handcuffs clinking as his hands fought at the metal keeping him contained. You pulled your mouth off of his cock, licking precum from your lips.
“You’re doing so well baby.” You stroke his cock slowly, rising back to your feet. It’s enough to send Katsuki forward, his head hung on his shoulders as he pants.
“If you want to cum, you have to say please.” You tell him, adjusting yourself on his length.
You slide down on his cock, taking him inside you. You lean your head back, a moan passing past your lips.
Katsuki bites the skin on your shoulder as you do so. You take a minute to adjust to his size before you move.
“Fuck.” Bakugou curses again as you begin to ride him, grinding your hips against his.
He won’t be able to hold out for much longer, but he refuses to beg you to cum. 
Your moans are enticing. They’re addictive. Just knowing his cock alone is enough to derive those beautiful sounds form your throat is sending chills down his spine.
“Katsuki!” You moan his name, knowing how much he loves the sound of it. Unable to do anything, his hands are restless. They long to touch you, to grip your neck, or squeeze your ass.
“S-Shit.” Katsuki stutters. His body was screaming for a release.
“Let me cum!” He yells, his crimson eyes staring into your (e/c) ones. You bite your bottom lip, your moves becoming sporadic and messy. You’re close yourself.
“Beg for it.” Your words are breathy, and followed by a string of curses and moans. 
Fighting everything inside of him, Katsuki finally bucks down. His own hips are thrusting up into you, hitting you in all the right places. He can feel you tighten around him as you cum.
“Please let me cum!” He begs. It was enough for you.
“Cum with me Katsuki!” You lean your head on his shoulder as you ride out your high with him.
His cum fills you up as he bucks his hips into you one last time, a feeling of warmth pooling in your lower body. 
You graciously move your hips against his slowly, riding out that little bit of heaven just a while longer, pleasured moans leaving the both of you.
“Holy shit.” Katsuki pants. You get up slowly, Bakugou admires his cum dripping from you, a sly smirk on your lips.
As you undo the restraints, it’s hard for Bakugou to keep his calm. But as soon as they’re all off, he’s tossing you over his shoulder, carrying you to the bed.
“I get to be in charge now.”
“Round two?” You raise the handcuffs between your fingers and Katsuki is immediately brought back to the reality of it all.
“It’s your turn to be tied up now.”
»»————- ★ ————-««
masterlist
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morningsound15 · 4 years
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For the fic writer ask game: 3, 11, 31, 39
3. Are there any fics that inspired you to write what you do?
actually yes! maybe not to write WHAT i write but definitely HOW i write
i don’t think i’ve ever talked about this but my first real fanfic fandom like the first time i got INTO fanfic in a real way was through skins (uk). do y’all remember skins? i was obsessed in early high school. so it’s not the FIRST fic i read (that was probably harry potter, i finished the books & did not want the story to end & through that desire to continue reading those books found fanfic way back on ff.net in like 2009) but the first time i like sat down and read every fic for a certain show/couple, it was skins.
there was one writer on ff.net called HyperFitched - now this was in like 2011 or so that i found these fics, so keep in mind i was young & haven’t re-read them so i’m not sure how they hold up! - but they would put out these unbelievable multi-chapter skins fics, like hundreds of thousands of words each. and i would gobble these stories up! like i couldn’t stop reading them. i remember sneaking my ipod touch into freshman year gym and reading these stories while i pretended to work out, because i just could not put them down. i will link to some of the ones below that i remember devouring in case anyone is interested, but these stories absolutely were what first got me thinking about things like subtext, shipping non-canon couples, the ability of fans to take source material and expand upon it & (in my mind) improve it, the idea of a slow-burn, of miscommunication, of pining, of sex in stories (oh the way i reacted when i realized people wrote these characters having semi-explicit sex!! what a game-changer). so it kind of was the precursor to pretty much everything about how i write fic! i wonder where this author ended up & if i can ever find them & send them a message... would love to do that lmk if anyone knows
but anyway - i fist came to AO3 because of skins! i ran out of skins fanfic to read on ff.net & wound up at AO3, and that’s how i got into tumblr, etc. etc. etc. but the fic that impacted me the most on AO3 is one i always recommend every time someone asks me for ficrecs because it’s just unbelievable, it was published over a decade ago, almost 100k words, like under 400 kudos (a crime!!) and i still reread it a couple times a year
transatlanticism by thememoriesfire it’s a katie/effy post-skins fic that sends me into the stratosphere like i am obsessed with the way this story is written & the way it unfolds & how the characters interact & how so little happens! the entire story revolves around basically just two characters talking to each other & trying to figure each other out & it’s one of the best things i have ever or will ever read! changed my perspective on fic length, on character development, on dialogue, helped me understand consistent tone of voice & characterizations etc. maybe none of y’all care about this stuff because you don’t care about skins but you don’t need to know that show to love this story! you really really don’t
anyway here are some HyperFitched stories i loved in 2011! fanfic styles have come a long way since the ff.net days so these might seem a little dated but they were very impactful to me. also people don’t write fic like this any more! kind of makes me nostalgic for simpler times
99 Problems - there’s a companion fic to this but basically all the skins characters are part of a circus & effy is losing her mind but katie helps her recover, there’s drugs & sex & sexy circus shenanigans, photography & love & aerial silks?? maybe i will re-read this actually because that’s all i remember of it but again, this consumed every waking moment of my life for as long as it took me to read it (which was probably like 4 or 5 days)
I Hold a Force I Can’t Contain - this is the emily/naomi companion piece to 99 Problems but i always liked katie/effy more tbqh
The Bend In The Wave
The Explosive Heart
11. How do you come up with your fic titles?
lame & not unique but mostly song lyrics / stuff from poems / bits of prose. i have a lot of difficulty coming up with titles, but i like the idea of a song or poem tying a story together it helps me nail down tone & themes a lot more easily.
31. Of the characters you write for, which is your favorite? Has that choice been swayed at all by your followers/readers’ reactions to certain ones?
my favorite character to write for is faith lehane (buffy), & after her lena luthor (supergirl). i like characters who have been hurt in impossibly difficult ways & who are trying to work through that hurt, characters who need to overcome their traumas, & the compelling thing to me about faith particularly (but lena too) is how her base instincts are violence & chaos; she’s been hurt so badly, so when she’s threatened she lashes out & causes more hurt. but she still wants to be good, & it’s just a matter of making herself accept that she is/can be good, that other people CAN see her that way. i am so drawn to that kind of character & it forms most of my writing.
most of my followers who follow me for my writing are bechloe stans! some harry potter folks too (there’s not a ton of really good f/f harry potter stories so people are always asking me for recs & stuff but it’s hard - there definitely are amazing works in that community but there’s not a huge breadth of non-smut fics & weirdly? a lot of them are about pansy parkinson? idk how that happened in fandom how the lesbians just decided pansy was their gal but i don’t like her so i never read those fics :/ sry rip). anyway all that to say is no my followers don’t really influence who my fav characters are to write for, because if it was up to them i would only write for like 1or 2 fandoms lol
lmk if you’re here for other fandoms! might help me in terms of which story i should work on finishing next
39. What’s something about your writing that you pride yourself on?
i think that i don’t (usually) take the easy way out in stories! i like to let the characters breathe & grow, i like to let the story move in the direction it needs to move in, even if that means i have to change or scrap what i previously planned out, even if that means i have to increase the word count from a 6k word one-shot to a 20k word one-shot (aka that korra story i just posted). perdition was originally supposed to be a 4-6 chapter story that only took place over their college years! but then it turned into a monster
thank you so much for these questions!
Fic Writer Ask Game!
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leahazel · 4 years
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7KPP MBTI - over-long and completely unedited meta
I’m just copy/pasting this from my notes software with no editing. If you’re brave enough to read the whole thing, more power to you. It’s about 3K words all in all.
I was in a doctor's waiting room this morning (I have the flu and I was waiting for a chest x-ray) and while I waited, I was thinking about some recent thoughts I had about D&F, and how they've changed my mind on some MBTI typings I've had for the 7KPP NPCs. I've been musing on the MBTI subject on and off for as long as I've been playing the game (first post here: https://leahazel.tumblr.com/post/126655090075/congratulations-on-the-kickstarter-also-if), and I've typed most of my own MCs and other OCs. In fact, for some of them, their MBTI and enneagram types are pretty central to their character arc.
But some characters are more well-developed than others, and some are quite difficult to type. And, of course, impressions are subjective. Since I'm fluish and too tired to actually write any fanfic (I have several unfinished), I might as well do a proper post of all my typings.
If I were at full strength, I'd so a whole resources section with links about what MBTI is and how it works. Since I'm not, I'll give the bare minimum background. MBTI is a personality typing system based on Jungian cognitive function theory. You can find everything from official descriptions written by professionals, to jokey quizzes and Tumblr memes, all over the internet. My favorite fannish MBTI account is @funkymbtifiction. I love their character typings and I rely on them for nuanced takes on the different types.
Without getting too much into my typing philosophy, here are the 7KPP NPCs, grouped somewhat arbitrarily.
Introverted sensing types
The four types marked SJ use the introverted sensing function as either their primary or auxiliary cognitive function. Stereotypically, Si-using types are hidebound, dutiful and traditional, reliable but also stubborn and rigid. Certainly unhealthy SJ types act like this a lot of the time. More mature, healthier people of the same types have access to all of Si's strengths -- an eye for detail, conscientious work ethic, a strong sense of honor -- while being aware of their weaknesses, and compensating for them.
ISTJ - Cordelia and Jasper are both ISTJ types. They share some of the same strengths and vulnerabilities. Both are very emotionally contained, but have difficulty expressing affection openly. At the same time, they have a strong moral compass and inner sense of right and wrong. This is typical of the Te/Fi function pair in the secondary/tertiary positions. Both of them have personal dilemmas and character journeys revolving around the tension between tradition and novelty. When frustrated or at a loss, they're prone to retreating into loops of rumination (Si-Fi loop), or spiraling into anxiety about future possibilities and everything that can possibly go wrong (inferior Ne). Cordelia is the more stable of the two. When we meet Jasper, he's already in the midst of a personal crisis. I suspect Sayra is also an ISTJ and generally write her with this type in mind, but not enough is known of her to pin her type down.
ISFJ - Penelope and Ria are both ISFJ types. Both of them are kind, gentle and helpful as ISFJs often (stereotypically) are, and are prone to putting other people's needs ahead of their own, as Fe-users often are. ISFJs thrive on the power of friendship and community, and excel at promoting harmony for the benefit of all. Disharmony, cruelty and rudeness make them anxious and upset, but they also possess hidden reservoirs of both fortitude and courage, especially in defense of others. As Si-users, they have a keen appreciation for the aesthetics of small, everyday details, and as Fe-users, they feel a strong need to put up a persona that reflects what others expect of them. When their desires are at odds with group harmony, they can struggle to assert themselves. Both Penelope and Ria have character arcs that show them to be strongly motivated by a sense of justice and fairness, being stronger than they initially appear to be, and willing to come into conflict with established mores when necessary.
ESTJ - General Falon is an ESTJ, and I believe he's the only one out of the characters I've named here (there are some characters that I don't feel I know enough about to type). As Falon is a minor character and not very well-developed, he adheres closely to ESTJ stereotypes and doesn't provide much nuance. He's driven by duty and honor and values tradition, hierarchy and efficiency. When driven out of his comfort zone he becomes easily flustered. He has a hard time seeing things from other people's point of view, is weak at diplomacy, and his discourse style lacks tact. Many traits that are typical of the extroverted thinking function.
ESFJ - Emmett and Lisle are both ESFJ types, and both pretty typical, although in slightly different ways. Here's the controversial part: I now think Jarrod is also an ESFJ, and I'll explain why, but I want to start with the simpler, more linear characterization.
ESFJ types use extroverted feeling as their leading cognitive function. It's a powerful emotional function that excels at both reading people's behavior and intentions, and reflecting that behavior back at them. Fe-dom types, when healthy, switch handily between personas appropriate to their surroundings, they know how to read the room's mood, and when they want to influence people, they know how to form an argument that's tailored to their conversation partner. On the downside, Fe-users can get lost in their masks or lose sight of their own goals, because they read other people's desires so readily. When supported by Si, introverted sensing, their desire for stability and continuity can hinder them from considering the possibilities of positive change. They can be cautious to a fault. Lisle is a typical ESFJ and his difficulty in opening up about negative emotions can be attributed his the Fe-driven desire to promote social harmony above all. Emmett does not initially seem like an SJ type or a J type at all, because judging types are not usually perceived as being as open-minded and easy-going as he is. This however is more of an adaptation to the circumstances his family life thrust him into, not by his own decision, and Emmett several times expresses a desire for a more stable home and family life.
Now, about Jarrod. On the face of it, his behavior is more consistent with a thinking type than a feeling type. He has no patience for anything soft or tender, he's quite aggressive and demanding, comfortable handing out orders. These are behaviors associated especially with extroverted thinking, which would make one think he should be an ESTJ or ENTJ. Likely ESTJ, since he shows a clear preference for a stable subjective sensory environment, typical of an Si-user. In fact, I'd initially typed him as ESTJ and I was comfortable with that typing until recently. However! You can't type a character based only on a type's weaknesses. If he's really an ESTJ, he should have an ESTJ's strengths, too. Looking at General Falon, he might be hidebound and inflexible, but he's also hard-working, efficient, and has the kind of natural air of authority that's so useful to a general. Jarrod yells at servants, but struggles to get them to obey his orders. He's not very organized or efficient, and can't manage to wake up on time even with a battery of servants at his disposal. The only sphere he shows any discipline in at all is his physical training. He's... not very smart, and his week one dialogue shows a lack of basic strategic understanding, quite aside from being tragically ill-informed. Jarrod doesn't act like an ESTJ, he acts like someone trying to be an ESTJ and failing, badly.
In MBTI circles, a lot is made of statistics that show that thinking types are disproportionately men, and feeling types are disproportionately female. This affects a lot of people's self-typing, because it introduces bias. Gender norms in the 7KPP universe are based on our own, and while we haven't seen a lot of direct evidence of the idea that men are inherently more logical and less emotional than women... it's not implausible that this belief is just as common in the Seven Kingdoms as it is in reality. Jarrod's particular flavor of "rationality" looks a lot more like the rationalization of a feeling type, in the grip of his inferior thinking function. The Si/Ne function pair still fits, and so ESFJ is my conclusion. I would elaborate and say that the mimicking abilities  of extroverted feeling as a dominant function are especially suited to a young person attempting to emulate a stronger personality in order to gain acceptance and social cachet.
...Wow. That was long.
Extroverted sensing types:
SPs, sensing perceiving types, are very different from sensing judging types. The sensory cognitive function they use is extroverted, less subjective and personal than Si, more grounded in external reality. This makes them more flexible but also more disorganized. Part of the reason why so many cast members are Si-users is because the Summit itself is such a socially rigid environment, where perceiving types in general are less likely to fit in. Se-users especially are more impulsive and that's reflected well in the two main SP types in the cast, Hamin and Anaele. Both of them struggle with the strictures of the Summit's schedule and rigid behavioral codes, and are constantly seeking outlets for their enormous physical and social energy.
Aly has said explicitly that Hamin is an ESFP, and that tracks. His superficial behavior is driven overwhelmingly by the demands of the energetic Se function, which demands a lot of attention and forms most of his public persona, his reputation. His quieter, more hidden side is emotionally driven and has a strong moral core looking for an outlet, both in terms of his desire to do right in the world, and in terms of his strong interpersonal relationships. Subtler still, you can see the signs of his tertiary function, Te, in his leadership ability and his efficiency in accomplishing tasks -- as long as he deems them important enough to be worth his attention (Fi-Te). Thinking about the future makes him anxious, because his future-oriented inferior Ni function is weak and under-developed. That's the main thrust of his personal character arc.
I went back and forth on Anaele, but eventually typed her as an ESTP. ESTP and ESFP types can appear similar some of the time, simply because the leading function is so extroverted it can overwhelm the expression of the auxiliary function, especially in public. Ana's Ti function isn't always super obvious, but her tertiary Fe is evident in her constantly struggling with the idea of social consensus and social responsibility. Her reputation and the reputation of her warriors is important to her, as is Skalt's standing among the kingdoms and her standing with her mother. At the same time, she resents the need to fit in and to conform herself to other people's ideas about who she is and how she should behave. She also has some of the positive aspects of tertiary Fe, she can be charming and reassuring and supportive, and generally has a good grasp of how to influence the mood of the room, when she's willing to put in the effort. Her insistence on speaking with Skaltic cadences even though she knows they sound wrong to the speakers of the common language is exactly the kind of stubborn oppositional behavior typical of ESTPs who like to provoke a reaction, without necessarily thinking through what they're provoking.
Jaslen and Blain are also probably ESP types, but I'm not confident about their typing, at least not enough to pin a specific type.
Introverted intuition types:
NJ types are targets for all sorts of stereotypes and mystification in MBTI communities. In fiction, they often appear as extraordinary characters, world-changing types, great heroes or villains or even mentors. The Ni function is described as being big picture oriented, very abstract, intuitive and futuristic. Judging intuitives sometimes seem to be reaching for "a target no one else can see", which is probably why they're often seen as being intellectual or artistic geniuses. Or, at least, really good at faking it. NJ types in the 7KPP universe are usually characters who are hiding important secrets, mostly about things bigger than themselves. They're driven by great conviction and not easily derailed from their plans.
ENFJ: Aly has stated that this is her type and also Clarmont's type, and in fact a significant part of his characterization seems to revolve around it. Feeling types are more ethically-driven than thinking types, at least stereotypically, and Clarmont is not an exception. He has a vision for the future that he's willing to sacrifice for. He has deep convictions, but he's also able to dine and dance with his mortal enemies, without betraying his true thoughts or feelings. In fact, he so excels at hiding his intentions that the Matchmaker makes a point of remarking on it.
INFJ: Look, I know I just said that feeling types are ethical, but the prototypical INFJ in the 7KPP verse is Gisette. It's easiest to explain by contrasting her with Avalie. Both Gisette and Avalie show certain common traits: they are contained, composed, ambitious, manipulative, and unscrupulous. They both know how to pull people's strings and like peeking inside people's heads to see through to their true intentions. The difference is, the way they do it is different. Avalie is a thinking type, and she operates like a chess player. She sets people in scenarios that cause them to reveal themselves. Gisette is an INFJ, and her auxiliary function is extroverted feeling. To execute her grand vision (Ni), she manipulates people through social convention, using gossip to tear down reputations and carefully curating her own public image. Gisette's weak one event is absolutely typical of an amoral FE-user. She doesn't hesitate to use the power of social convention to position people according to her needs. He tertiary Ti function shines through in her tactical thinking skills, and her inferior Se function is apparent in her love of fashion, as well as her ability to pounce on opportunities when her carefully laid plans go awry.
As a side note, I believe that Countess Yvette is also an INFJ, but it's harder to gather evidence for it, since she has a fairly minor role, all in all.
INTJ: Avalie and Woodly are both INTJs. INTJ is often touted as the chessmaster type, and it makes perfect sense as a type for people who prefer pulling strings in the background, as opposed to openly passing out orders, like General Falon. Not much more to be said about that, except that the manifestation of INTJ functions can be affected by social convention. Avalie is an attractive young woman and Woodly is an older man who is much more socially established, and naturally this affects how agreeably they interact with others. Thinking types are not stereotypically known as being particularly polite or graceful, in the social sense. But, the introverted intuition function is very calculating, and the extroverted thinking function is results-driven. With time, a woman with a TJ type can learn to mimic behaviors that create the illusion of the feminine softness that's expected of her. Avalie in particular does this very well.
ENTJ: My second controversial typing, I insist that Zarad is an ENTJ. The persona he puts up is that of an ESFP, like Hamin, but as his opening narration says, no one whose reputation is that consistent can be exactly what he seems. Zarad's public persona, that of the careless flirt and black sheep, is a bit too much of a textbook description of an ESFP. It lacks the depth and nuance of Hamin's internal conflict. Putting up an elaborate facade for years on end is not something that an Fi-user, like an ESFP, is typically proficient in. A judging type is more likely to succeed at this, specifically either an Fe-dom or a Te-dom. The reason why I zeroed in on ENTJ for his true type, is that ENTJs and ESFPs have the same cognitive functions, but in a different stacking. This commonality would allow Zarad to more effectively access the thought process that would be typical of the type he's assuming -- it's all there under the surface, it's just not his natural, instinctual behavior. I also think part of the reason that he and Hamin collaborate so well is that they're not the same type, but rather they complement each other's strengths and weaknesses. The confounding factor is that the difference between Hamin and Zarad is not just in type, but in environment. Hamin definitely couldn't maintain the type of long-term deceit that Zarad engages in, but maybe an ESFP who was raised in the secretive and backstabbing Corvali imperial court could.
Extroverted intuitive function:
The only NP type in the cast, as far as I can tell, is Lyon. He is canonically an INTP, which Aly has confirmed is based on several of her family members. His introverted thinking function fixates on the idea of an internal, consistent and logical inner world, at the cost of interacting with the messy and subjective outer world. This causes him to rationalize emotional behavior patterns and close himself off. As part of his character arc, the auxiliary function of extroverted intuition opens up possibilities for him, because what Ne excels at most is offering up lots of alternative explanations based on existing parameters. For example, "what if not everyone hates me?" or, "what if sometimes things actually go right?" I'm being sarcastic about this because I'm an Ne-user myself, so I'm allowed.
Odds and ends:
Minor characters like Imogen and Mrs. White don't have types, because we don't know them well enough. Specifically, we don't get to contrast their typical, healthy behavior with their behavior under stress. Kade, Leala and Greer don't yet have types or enough characterization for typing, but based on my intuition and what I've learned about Aly's writing, I have preliminary predictions. Leala is probably an ESFP like Hamin. Greer is most likely an INTP, or else possibly an ISTJ or even ESTJ. I would guess that she's an introvert, but as her leading function is definitely a thinking one (as her blunt speaking style reveals), Te-dom is also a possibility. Kade is a bit of a wild card, but I'm placing bets on either ISTP or ENTP, just for the sake of novelty.
Among my own problem princesses, I have an assortment of at least three quarters of the types. Least represented are the FP types, excepting Princess Felicity, who's an ENFP, and widow Selene, who's an ISFP. If you add in the supporting OCs, they really run the gamut.
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miguel-manbemel · 5 years
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Aspects & Fanfics Ep. 7: The Dungeon and the Dragon Witch: The Sides' Team Adventure
Seventh entry of the “Aspects & Fanfics” fanfic blog inspired on “Sanders Sides” by Thomas Sanders and Joan. And it’s the first one since the magnificent “Selfishness v. Selflessness”. I had it almost finished yesterday, but I prefered to wait some time to publish it in order not to be bothersome to those commenting the new episode. Fun fact, I was writing one of the last paragraphs when the YouTube notification kicked in. I had my headphones a little loud, I was so concentrated in the writing... I got the scare of my lifetime and I jumped on my chair like if it had been an air horn... xD.
Luckily enough, for the time being there’s nothing in the new episode that contradicts badly what I had written in previous entries, the new episode could perfectly have happened between “Embarrasing Phases” and my first entry, but anyway, remember that this fanfic has its own alternate continuity after “Embarrasing Phases”, even though I was pleasantly surprised to see that I coincidentally guessed some minor details from the real episode that I had mentioned in previous installments of mine, like my episode where Logan wanted Thomas not to have a candy party and eat healthy instead, and then in the end card of the real episode Logan remarked that Thomas needed the nutrients from the salsa verde enchiladas and shouldn’t eat the butterfinger. The coincidence made me chuckle. Should any major changes come to the canon series (and they will certainly come sooner or later, it’s only a matter of time and the Team Foster Dawg’s expertise), I would try to add them into the fanfic respecting my continuity if I can. The alternative would be starting from scratch after each real episode is released, but that would be impractical if I want to tell a coherent story, wouldn’t it?
For this entry, that took me longer than I expected, again because of a couple of blockings during the process, I had the idea of incorporating tabletop roleplaying into the story. I used to play it for a little amounts of time years ago. I’ve forgotten almost everything but the basics, and I never played “Dungeons & Dragons” or similar games (I think I played the “Lord of the Rings” role playing game, and also briefly “Vampire the Masquerade”), so I decided not to stick to any particular gaming rules and make up my own rules to make them fit into the story. Also, I didn’t want to put too many gaming details, as the story is already long enough as it is. As usual, references will be made to previous entries, so if you want to read them beforehand, you can find them right here. And thank you so much to each and everyone who has liked any of the entries, reblogged or written comments. I really appreciate them and feel honored for your words. I already said in the first entry that nothing I could write could get even closer to the original, and that’s not my intention, but I hope I can do justice to your praises. And now after this too long introduction, let’s get cracking with the fic already.
SYNOPSIS: Thomas has been invited to participate in a stage show where he’ll be role-playing in front of an audience. As it’s been ages since the last time he role played, he doesn’t remember how to play anymore and feels insecure, thinking he’s gonna mess up in front of hundreds of people. The Sides appear and suggest to have a session of role-playing all together, so that they can help Thomas freshen up his game.
WARNINGS: Inside the game, there will be encounters with monsters, fighting and everything that comes with it, including the death of one of the main Sides’ characters. But it is made clear all the time that nothing’s real and it’s just a game, so it shouldn’t be a bad trigger to anyone. But it’s better too much warning than not enough, so there it is. In general, apart of these in-game moments, there’s not much more I can think of, except in the ending segment, where some mild angst will make an appearance.
EPISODE INDEX
THOMAS: Good evening, everyone! My name is Thomas Sanders and… I have no clue of how to get out of this situation! That’s a constant in my life, though.
[intro sequence]
THOMAS: What is up, everybody? You guys, I’m really excited for this weekend. One of my friends has invited me to a convention about tabletop Role Playing. I really liked Role Playing long ago when I was younger, and I still like it. I mean, it was true acting at home with friends, all mixed up with a really fun game. Who wouldn’t love it? In the con, we’re gonna play a game of RPG with other people to see who’s the best, all on-stage in front of hundreds of people who are gonna watch the show. I mean, I haven’t played RPG in ages, but… [suddenly shows a serious slightly terrified face of realization] Wait a minute… I haven’t played in ages. I don’t remember how to play anymore! [terrified squealing] Oh, my gosh, I’m gonna make a fool of myself in front of hundreds of people!
VIRGIL: [appearing] Seriously? You have to get me to work at full cap even for a game? Isn’t a game supposed to be done for fun?
THOMAS: Yes, Virgil, it is, but this game is going to be seen live by so many people… and I don’t remember how to play! It will be like going on-stage without rehearsing! Nothing would make me more anxious than that!
HONESTY: [rising up] But Thomas, you said it was on the weekend. You still have plenty of time to rehearse your game, don’t you?
THOMAS: I wouldn’t even know where to start, Honesty. I don’t even have the materials, like papers, dices, books…
LOGAN: [rising up, over-excited yelling] Did someone say BOOKS?
VIRGIL: [startled] What the f…! Not again, Logan!
LOGAN: Apologies. Thomas, what books are you talking about?
THOMAS: I mean, the basics for a good game of role-playing are contained in books, where there are the rules, the mechanics, examples of characters and basic adventures…
ROMAN: [rising up] But Thomas, to play a game of these there’s one thing among others that you already have. Me! Your creativity is the most important part of the game and you already have it with you. Cheer up!
THOMAS: Yes, but this is not like writing something for myself and then acting it. If it was that easy, I’d have full creative freedom and that would be my home ground. But when you have to subject your creativity to the constraints of some rules… that’s a tall order, especially if you don’t remember those rules.
PATTON: [rising up] Then why don’t we play ourselves?
LOGAN: What?
PATTON: Think about it. If we have a game of role-playing all of us together with Thomas, it would work like a rehearsal for him, and it would help him remember the rules. Besides, I would love to play with all of you, guys! I’m tired of playing solitaire in my room…
ROMAN: Well, at least it would be safer than Patton-cake… I had stiffness in my arms for a week after so much swimming running away from the piranhas, and I still haven’t recovered full sensitivity in my fingers after the hot candle wax…
THOMAS: I love that idea, Patton!
HONESTY: Mmm… that’s not my cup of tea, however. I’m not much into something where everything is out of reality. I find it… [yawns] ...boring. Excuse me.
LOGAN: I would agree, but if it works to help Thomas, I will sacrifice myself. Wouldn’t you, Hon?
HONESTY: [reluctantly] I…
DECEIT: [through Honesty’s body] Well, I love this kind of game, where everybody pretends to be someone they’re not. If Honesty doesn’t want to participate, may I in his place?
THOMAS: Of course, Deceit, join us.
[Honesty transforms into Deceit]
DECEIT: [grinning] Cool.
HONESTY: [through Deceit’s body] Well, that settles it then. If you don’t mind, I’m a little tired, so I’m gonna use your game time to take a nap, okay? [yawns] Have fun, Deceit.
DECEIT: Bye, Honesty, but don’t start snoring in the middle of the game, okay?
HONESTY: Hey, I don’t snore! It’s just strong breathing!
DECEIT: Of course it is… And then I’m the deceitful one of the fam…
PATTON: You two are such good friends now, Deceit.
DECEIT: Nah, we’re just roommates, only that we’re sharing a body instead of a house.
THOMAS: Okay, so, if we’re gonna role-play today, we’re gonna need a table and materials… I think I’m gonna need your help, Roman, are you following me?
ROMAN: Sure, Thomas. I’m following you… [confused] Where do you want me to follow you?
LOGAN: [facepalms while mumbling] Oh, my goodness, el príncipe es mucho estúpido…
ROMAN: [offended] Logan, that’s not right! [beat] It is “muy estúpido”, not “mucho estúpido”.
LOGAN: Whatever, it’s true…
THOMAS: Roman, I meant that I need a room in the Mind Palace for role-playing, with a table and all the materials we need.
ROMAN: Oh, you could have said it earlier, Thomas! All right, let’s get playing now!
[Roman snaps his finger and Thomas and the Sides appear in a room with a large round table. Thomas is sitting down in the middle and the Sides are sitting around the table, in the order they usually stand in the living-room.]
THOMAS: This is so cool. Look, here are the tools for doing an adventure. I’ll be the Dungeon Master.
VIRGIL: Wait a minute, if there’s a dungeon, I should be its master! It suits me more than you!
THOMAS: You guys are saying all the time that I am the boss of this, or the master or that… I’d say I’m fitting for the role, am I not?
VIRGIL: Touche, Thomas… Okay, but I hope to get a good dark character at least…
THOMAS: You will all play the characters you want in the end. But, I thought it would be more fun if we played characters that are the complete opposite of us. It would make it more challenging. What do you think?
PATTON: Yayyy!
ROMAN: Why not? I love challenges…
LOGAN: It really doesn’t matter what we choose because nothing is real anyway, so count me in.
DECEIT: [low fake voice] I’m feeling quite confident, but let’s try it anyway.
VIRGIL: Ummm…
PATTON: Come on, Virgil, this is just for fun! Don’t hesitate!
VIRGIL: Okay, okay. I hope this doesn’t turn into a mess.
THOMAS: That’s the spirit, you won’t regret it! Okay, I have the character sheets ready, then. Virgil, you’re gonna be the bard. Specialized in singing and dancing that can buff the rest of the team’s power in their attacks…
VIRGIL: [picking up the sheet Thomas is giving him] I’m already regretting it…
THOMAS: Roman, you’re gonna be… the wizard.
ROMAN: Oh…
THOMAS: Specialized in the studying of spells and the casting of magic attacks.
ROMAN: Okay… [to himself, trying to cheer himself up] Challenge, challenge, challenge…
THOMAS: Logan, you’re gonna be… the knight. Master of sword, armor and melee combat.
ROMAN: What? He is gonna be the knight? [starts laughing]
LOGAN: And why couldn’t I be the knight?
ROMAN: May I bring up a list of reasons or are we short on time?
LOGAN: Well, at least I’d be a more competent knight with better strategy ideas. You, on the contrary, are always more preoccupied of having your sword clean to delight in your own face reflected on it, rather than learning how to wield it!
ROMAN: Well, at least I wield a sword for real! If you had to grab my sword I’m sure you’d cut yourself even without taking it out of the sheath!
LOGAN: And I wonder if you’ll be able to learn any kind of spell with your wizard! You weren’t able even to memorize your washing machine manual!
ROMAN: I’m a prince, I’ve got servants for that! I memorize only the things that are useful for me! You instead have memorized lots of things that are worth for nothing and utterly stupid, you Fact Hoarder!
LOGAN: FALSEHOOD!
[Roman and Logan start arguing]
VIRGIL: [covering his ear with a little dash of pain] Why do I always have to be next to Logan when he screeches like that?
DECEIT: You’re always next to Logan, Virgil.
VIRGIL: True… May we switch places?
DECEIT: I’d be delighted… No.
THOMAS: [to Logan and Roman] Guys, guys! Relax! This is a game of teamwork, you’re not supposed to fight against each other!
[Roman and Logan stop arguing and give a dirty look to each other]
DECEIT: Okay, what will be my part, then?
THOMAS: Yes, Deceit… [searching between the sheets] You’re gonna be… [finding the sheet and giving it to Deceit] … the priest!
DECEIT: [grabbing the sheet, with a sarcastic fake low voice and a face of disgust] Wee… My heart is filled with joy…
THOMAS: You’ll have the power of truth and faith in your hands so you can heal your allies’ wounds and repel the darkest creatures.
PATTON: [excited] And now it’s my turn!
THOMAS: Yes, Patton, and you’re gonna be… the Dark Warlock! You get your powers from evil and use them for your own benefit. You are helping your team, but only for as long as they’re useful to you.
PATTON: [happy] Yaayyyy!
THOMAS: See? Learn from Patton, you guys! He has taken it much better than all of you!
PATTON: [threatening low evil voice] Call me Supreme Lord of Evil Patton, you slaves! I’m ready to win this adventure and I won’t tolerate any failures! It is either victory or death for you!
ROMAN: [in shock] Wow… He’s got into character really fast… Okay, guys, let’s dress into character to make the adventure more realistic.
[They all suddenly change their outfits. Roman is wearing a white and red robe with a red wizard hat. Patton is wearing a black robe with a blood red hood and a light blue medal over his chest with a gargoyle carved on it. He’s still wearing his glasses. Logan is wearing a medieval armor with an indigo sash on the chest and an open helmet exposes his face, which shows he’s also still wearing his glasses. Virgil is wearing purple peasant garments, including tights and a hood. He still has his usual eyeshadow and he’s holding Thomas’ ukulele. And Deceit is wearing a yellow priest’s tunic, wearing on the head what resembles a miter, those tall hats that Catholic bishops wear, only a little smaller and also in yellow.]
THOMAS: Wow, nice cosplay, you guys, this will really help getting into action! Okay, it’s time to let the adventure begin… And I’ll read the beginning. [with his trademark narrator voice] Story time! You are in front of the door of a huge dungeon. A king has hired you to retrieve a talisman that can save his kingdom. To do so, you must take it off the cold hands of the evil ruler of the dungeon. It won’t be an easy task, as lots of enemies, traps and other dangers are blocking your way, but nothing worse than all the perils you’ve already gone through in the past. The first obstacle is the door that lies in front of you, which of course is locked. What will you do?
LOGAN: Easy… [with robotic voice doing a gesture of typing text with his hands, sound of typing is heard and a little beep when he enters] “Unlock door with picklock. Enter”.
THOMAS: [confused] … what…? [realizing] Oh! Logan, this is not one of those old school text adventure games from the ancient computers of the eighties… You have to act your actions convincingly… and besides you’re not carrying any picklock with you.
LOGAN: Okay, I’ll try… I’ll hit the lock with my sword to break it.
THOMAS: Okay… throw a 20 sided dice for aim.
[Logan throws a dice]
LOGAN: 1!? 20 sides and I get only a 1!? What are the odds!?
THOMAS: Fumble. You miss the lock and you hit your own foot. You can be lucky that your armor absorbs the damage to your body. Not so much to your ego, though, and the armor loses one point of durability.
[Roman chuckles]
LOGAN: [angry] Shut up!
ROMAN: [confident] Make way, I’ll do it. I’ll throw a spell to swiftly unlock the door.
THOMAS: Throw a dice for magic expertise.
[Roman throws the dice, he gets another 1]
LOGAN: [laughs lively, then ironic] Make way for the prince of experts!
THOMAS: Fumble. The spell not only does not unlock the door. It makes the lock even stronger and more difficult to break than it was before. Further tries will need three more points than normal to be successful.
ROMAN: [angry] These dices are loaded!
THOMAS: Hey, don’t blame me. You created this room and all its materials, including these dices.
[Roman shows a sudden mischievous smile]
THOMAS: [firm voice] Don’t you dare! Don’t manipulate the dices! The game must be fair!
ROMAN: [sighs] Fine…
PATTON: [evil voice] Step aside, you amateur fools! This will be no problem for my magic! I’ll throw a curse to destroy the door altogether!
THOMAS: Okay, throw a dice for evil strength.
PATTON: [after throwing the dice] Eleven!
THOMAS: Your curse is partially successful. The door isn’t completely destroyed, but the lock itself is, leaving a hole. Now you can open it and enter the dungeon. Behind the door there’s a long dark corridor.
VIRGIL: Shouldn’t we have some torches? Because the corridor is dark and full of terrors…
DECEIT: As a matter of fact, apparently I carry a bag of torches with me.
THOMAS: Yes, you have torches… but no means to light them.
ROMAN: I’ll make some magic fire to light the torches.
THOMAS: Okay, throw a dice for magic expertise.
LOGAN: Don’t screw it up.
[Logan throws the dice, he gets a 20]
ROMAN: [happy] Yes, baby! [to Logan, sarcastic] What were you saying about screwing up…?
LOGAN: Let me see that dice…
THOMAS: Critical hit! The torches don’t light up, but all the existing sources of light in the corridor and in all the dungeon do light up. You’re no longer in need of light for the rest of your adventure.
ROMAN: That’s more like it.
VIRGIL: [groans] He’s gonna be boasting about it all week long, I can see it…
ROMAN: Did you doubt it…? You better write a good song about my talents, bard.
VIRGIL: At least it’s gonna be a short song then.
ROMAN: [offended noises] Ugh!?
DECEIT: Shouldn’t we get cracking? We’ve taken two centuries to get the front door open. Let’s come in already.
LOGAN: Yeah, let’s go.
THOMAS: All right, you enter into the corridor. You advance a few steps until you reach some stairs that go down. There’s also a door next to the stairs.
VIRGIL: I’ll examine the door.
THOMAS: Throw a dice for perception.
[Virgil throws a dice and he gets an 8]
THOMAS: You see there’s some bright oily substance on the latch, but you can’t quite identify what it is.
VIRGIL: That looks suspicious. I’m not gonna touch it. Let’s examine the stairs instead.
THOMAS: Okay, throw another dice.
[Virgil throws a dice and he gets a 14]
THOMAS: You see a secret mechanism on the edge of the stairs. It looks like a trap, and you find no way of disabling it.
LOGAN: Fine, so now we’re stuck between a weird oily substance and a most than probable trap. Fantastic. Although… I’m wearing an armor, with gauntlets and all. I don’t have to touch that substance to open the door, do I? It makes all the sense that I open it. I’ll do it.
THOMAS: You open the door. The oily substance happens to be a powerful acid that corrodes your gauntlet. You have to quickly take the gauntlet off so it doesn’t reach your skin. In a matter of a couple of minutes, only a viscous smoky slime remains of your gauntlet.
LOGAN: Not fair!
THOMAS: Give thanks that it’s not your hand what has suffered that destiny.
LOGAN: Lucky me that I’m carrying a spare gauntlet in my bag.
THOMAS: Yes, but the spare gauntlet is less durable than the original. So now you have two points less of durability, and that makes three points less.
LOGAN: Well, at least the door is open.
THOMAS: And you won’t like it, cause behind the door there’s a monster. A vicious indescribable entity that attacks your team.
PATTON: [cold voice] I’ll throw a curse on it. It’ll regret messing up with me!
THOMAS: Throw a dice for magic strength.
[Patton gets a 20]
THOMAS: Wow! It’s a critical hit! The creature bursts into flames!
PATTON: [evil sadistic laughter and yelling] Yes… muahahaha! Burn! BURN! B-U-U-U-U-R-N!
ROMAN: Did I already say that I’m a little scared of how much Patton has got into character?
THOMAS: In a matter of seconds, only a pile of ashes remains of the monster.
PATTON: I’ll grab the ashes. They may come in useful for my spells.
THOMAS: I presume you want to enter the next room, right?
LOGAN: Allons-y!
THOMAS: Where did I hear that before…? Okay. The next room has a spiral staircase in the center. There is also a little chest in a corner.
VIRGIL: I’ll examine the coffin, it could be another trap.
THOMAS: Throw for perception.
[Virgil throws and he gets a 16]
THOMAS: You find no kind of traps in the chest. It is safe to open, and it’s full of gold coins.
VIRGIL: Cool, at last, something good.
DECEIT: Now, let’s go downstairs.
THOMAS: All right, you go down the stairs. The stairs are long… really long… It looks as if you were descending to the depths of the earth, or even as if you were right on your way to the underworld. When you’ve lost notion of time and it seems like you’ve been going on for forever this way, you finally reach the bottom. There’s a corridor right in front of the stairs.
VIRGIL: I search for traps in the corridor.
THOMAS: Throw for perception then.
[Virgil throws and he gets a 9]
THOMAS: You discover that there’s a trap in the middle of the corridor, but can’t find the way to disable it.
LOGAN: Oh, great, now we know there’s a trap and we can’t disable it. We’re trapped between going up those stairs again or falling to our doom.
ROMAN: Well, perhaps I could throw a spell of divination to search how to unlock the trap.
THOMAS: Okay, throw for magic expertise.
[Roman throws and he gets a 19]
ROMAN: Good one!
THOMAS: Almost a critical, but not quite yet. However, your spell is entirely successful and you see an almost hidden lever right at the entrance of the corridor. If you push that lever, the trap will be disabled.
ROMAN: Of course, I’ll push it.
THOMAS: Uh-oh. It is too hard. You’re gonna need to throw a dice for physical strength.
[Roman throws and he gets a 3]
ROMAN: Cursed dragon witches!
THOMAS: You can’t move the lever, not even an inch.
LOGAN: I guess I’ll have to try again. My character is specialized in physical strength after all. Give me that dice.
[Logan throws the dice and he gets a 14]
THOMAS: Well done. You manage to push the lever. You hear muffled cracking sounds behind the walls and feel a smooth shaking on the floor. The trap is disabled and you can keep going.
DECEIT: Well, let’s go, then.
THOMAS: You advance through the corridor, until you cross a door to a huge room. There is a crystal ball on the top of a cane that is fixed on the floor.
VIRGIL: I don’t like the look of this…
THOMAS: And you’re right, Virgil, because as you all come into the room, the door slams behind you and an evil laugh is heard. “This will be your tomb, adventurers!” you can hear.
PATTON: [confident evil voice] Wanna bet?
THOMAS: From the crystal ball a lightning surges and three ominous hooded creatures are created from the crystal. They start attacking you. The first creature aims at Logan. She throws a ray at you. I throw for aim…
[Thomas throws and he gets a 13]
THOMAS: I hit you. Now you must throw for defense.
[Logan throws and he gets a 9]
THOMAS: The armor absorbs part of the damage but it’s not enough to avoid it making you a wound in your hand, your less protected part. You lose 2 points of health, and have 16 left.
PATTON: [suddenly breaking out of character, squealing angry] Don’t touch my Teach Boy, you monster! I throw a curse to the creature!
THOMAS: The curse has no effect.
PATTON: Don’t I get to throw a dice?
THOMAS: Nope. No matter what you try, you can’t do any damage to them.
PATTON: [squealing angry] Not fair!
VIRGIL: [thinking] Hmm…
DECEIT: I had the power to repel dark creatures, right? I’m gonna use it.
THOMAS: Very well, throw for faith.
[Virgil throws and he gets a 16]
THOMAS: You create a force field around the three creatures. They can’t get out of it, and that gives you three turns to think and apply your strategy, even though Deceit cannot throw any other spells while he’s holding the force field. You better hurry.
ROMAN: Virgil, you said a significant “Hmm” earlier. Have you got any ideas?
VIRGIL: I was thinking about how Thomas didn’t let us throw any dices. That means these creatures are invincible. However each creature in a role-playing game should have a weak point or else there would be no chance to beat the game, and I doubt that such an impossible game would appear as a basic adventure in a book of the game.
THOMAS: Guys… I would have preferred if you’d reached that conclusion without having to get so meta, that breaks the mood of the story.
VIRGIL: Our aim should not be the creatures. These creatures appeared from a ray that came from that crystal ball. I suggest that we destroy the crystal ball and see what happens next.
LOGAN: Good idea. It’s payment time! I’ll hit the ball with my sword!
THOMAS: Throw for aim.
ROMAN: And don’t stab your foot this time!
[Logan throws and he gets an 11]
THOMAS: You hit the ball, but not hard enough to destroy it. However, you crack it, which makes the creatures flicker back and forth.
ROMAN: [singing to the tune of “It’s My Time” by Jade Ewen] It’s my time, it’s my time, my moment! [stops singing] I throw a spell to pulverize the ball!
THOMAS: Throw for magic expertise.
LOGAN: And try not to fix the crack, please.
[Logan throws and he gets a 16]
THOMAS: The ball gets broken to pieces. The creatures disappear and so does Deceit’s force field, just in time.
ROMAN: Yes, I did it!
VIRGIL: We did it, Roman. This was done with the effort of all of us.
ROMAN: Oh, yeah, yeah, of course.
THOMAS: He’s right. Nice teamwork, guys.
DECEIT: Now I’ll heal Logan’s wounds, he needs it.
LOGAN: Thanks, Deceit.
THOMAS: Throw for faith.
[Deceit throws and he gets a 20]
THOMAS: Critical hit! Not only all his wounds are healed, and with that all his points of health are restored. You also fix all of his armor, and he recovers all the lost points of durability.
DECEIT: Nice!
LOGAN: Good job!
THOMAS: You started with awful luck with the dices, but now it’s a chain of criticals from all of you. Roman, are you sure you didn’t bribe the dices?
ROMAN: I give my royal word that I didn’t manipulate the dices, Thomas!
[Deceit gives a mischievous smile to Virgil, and he silently chuckles without Thomas noticing]
THOMAS: Okay… Now that the room is empty, you notice a huge chest next to a door in the background.
VIRGIL: Let’s examine it.
THOMAS: Throw for perception.
[Virgil throws and he gets a 16]
THOMAS: There are no traps in the chest. Inside it, you find it’s full of diamonds.
VIRGIL: Let’s share it all, we’ve all earned it in equal parts.
PATTON: [normal Patton voice] Agreed… [clears throat, then with low evil voice] Agreed for the time being…
ROMAN: The fact that you broke out of character earlier and now has calmed me down, Patton. For a moment I thought you were Wrath in disguise…
DECEIT: Please, Roman. There’s only one master of disguise in this Mind Palace, and he’s in front of you. I have never seen a worse shape-shifter than Wrath, you should see him…
VIRGIL: Yeah, he’s right. Remember when he tried to impersonate me and he put the eyeshadow over the eyebrows? He looked like an emo version of Groucho Marx.
[Deceit laughs]
THOMAS: Okay, back to the game, guys… The door opens and you enter in what looks like a throne room.
DECEIT: Ooh… There’s a smell of final battle in the atmosphere…
THOMAS: The dungeon ruler is in front of you. They’re wearing a golden armor that covers their face, but that doesn’t diminish their threatening aura. They don’t say a word. They just stand up from their throne and shows the talisman. It is a golden necklace with strange symbols carved on the brightest ruby. A magic glows from it. Then, they throw it to a chest that closes itself and is then protected with a bright force field. You know what you have to do. Only by defeating them the force field will be gone and the talisman will be yours.
VIRGIL: Okay, it’s time to start singing to boost your abilities, I guess… [clears throat, then singing] “Woords fail… woords fail… there’s nothing I can say...”
ROMAN: Um… Virgil, your supposed to lift our spirits, not to send us into deep sadness. Sing a happy cheery song!
VIRGIL: Nobody appreciates real art… Okay, how about this…?
[Virgil starts singing “Friday I’m in Love” by The Cure while playing the ukulele]
ROMAN: It’s not “Whistle while you work”, but it’s not bad either.
THOMAS: Okay, thanks to Virgil’s singing, you get a bonus boost of all of your abilities of +5.
LOGAN: Good, keep singing, Virgil. I’ll go attack them on melee mode. You, Deceit, heal me, and anyone who needs healing too. You, Patton, attack them with curses. You, Roman, throw all the offensive spells on them and defensive spells on us, but try not to get the aggro on you…
THOMAS: Logan… Logan, stop. This is tabletop role playing, not “World of Warcraft”. There’s no aggro in here.
LOGAN: Apologies. Forget about the aggro. All the rest still applies. You guys ready?
DECEIT: Ready.
ROMAN: Let’s go get them!
PATTON: He’s gonna feel our rage!
VIRGIL: [still singing] “…it’s Friday, I’m in love”… [threatening voice] If you ever tell that I’ve been singing solo for so long I’m gonna kill you… [resumes singing] “Monday, you can fall apart...”
LOGAN: Okay, team Sanders Sides, let’s go! Geronimoooo!
[The battle begins. As we see shots of the Sides and Thomas throwing dices and silently acting, that is combined with background images of the battle that we see behind them, with the characters actually fighting the creature, while epic music sounds. We see the battle advance, with Logan attacking with his sword, Roman and Patton casting spells, Deceit magically healing everyone and Virgil still singing and playing the ukulele. That until Logan throws a gash onto the armored enemy and knocks him down. At that moment, the armor shakes and a black smoke emerges from it. The smoke turns into a dragon-witch. The battle then resumes, but the dragon-witch’s first attack against Logan knocks him down. Upon seeing this, Patton enters berserk mode and throws a huge stream of fire against the dragon. She responds throwing fire from her mouth and the two streams of fire collide. Virgil plays his song more intensely and Roman supports Patton’s spell with his magic, until the combined forces finally overcome the Dragon’s Witch power and she explodes in a fireball. The scene fades out and we return to the Sides on the table]
PATTON: [dramatic] Logan, are you all right? Talk to me! Deceit, do something!
DECEIT: [dramatic] I’m sorry, guys, his wounds have been too much. He’s gone.
PATTON: [over the top crying] Logan, oh, Logan, why did it have to be you!?
LOGAN: Dag nabbit. We were about to win, and I lost on the finish line.
ROMAN: [angry low voice] Shut up, you’re dead, don’t ruin the mood of the ending!
THOMAS: [epic narrator voice] But his sacrifice wasn’t in vain. The force field in the chest is gone and the talisman is yours. You can be proud of your teamwork guys, you’ve saved the kingdom and you will always be remembered as heroes of legend. Congratulations!
PATTON: [over dramatic] We will never forget you, Logan! Poems will be written honoring your name, the gods will rearrange the stars to forge a constellation with your shape and everyone will get emotional upon seeing it in the sky up until the end of time!
LOGAN: Umm… Patton, that’s not how constellations work…
ROMAN: [waving his hands quickly] Sssshhhhhh! I’m enjoying this…!
[Logan silently sighs and rolls his eyes]
THOMAS: ...aaaand… The End. Well done, guys!
LOGAN: Can I speak now?
ROMAN: Yes.
PATTON: [over the top emotional happiness] Logan! You’re alive, thank God, I thought we had lost you!
LOGAN: Um… Patton, you knew this was all a game of pretend, didn’t you?
PATTON: [surprised] Oh… Was it?
ROMAN: [sighs] No wonder why he got into character so much, he thought everything was real…
THOMAS: Okay, guys, let’s go back.
ROMAN: Agreed.
[Roman snaps his finger and they all get back to the apartment with their habitual outfits]
PATTON: This was really fun, kiddos!
THOMAS: Yeah, it really was. But you almost got a syncope, Patton. Listen, role-playing is good, but don’t get so much into character that you cease to distinguish between fiction and reality. This is just a game and you got too much into it.
PATTON: I’m sorry… But it was fun. And the end was happy for everyone…
LOGAN: ...well, almost for everyone.
THOMAS: It’s okay, Logan. We can repeat this some other day and maybe next time you’ll win too.
LOGAN: The most important thing is… did all this gaming help you for your con?
THOMAS: I think it did. Now I remember all of the rules as if my last game had been yesterday. Thank you so much. And apart of that I also remembered a really important lesson.
LOGAN: Oh, really? What is it?
THOMAS: You reminded me the important value of teamwork. At first when each of you was on your own it looked as if you wouldn’t pass even from the front door, and then you started working as a team and defeating dangers all together as if you were one person.
DECEIT: Well, technically we’re all one person...
THOMAS: I’m proud of all of you, guys.
LOGAN: Thank you. At least my sacrifice has worked for something. [sinking down] Next time, give me an alchemist or something more of my style.
THOMAS: All right, Logan.
PATTON: [sinking down] I’m gonna go get a nice cup of calming tea. I need it after the scary ending we’ve gone through.
THOMAS: Okay, Patton, and sorry.
DECEIT: [sinking down] Well, I’m gonna go wake up Honesty. It is my turn to take a nap, I’m exhausted. See ya.
THOMAS: Bye, Deceit!
VIRGIL: I’ll remind you, just in case, if you ever tell that I was singing solo all of the time, you’re not gonna sleep in a couple of weeks, and it will not be because of your usual habit of not sleeping when editing a video. [sinking down] Be warned.
THOMAS: Okay, Virgil, relax…
ROMAN: Ah… A good old battle. And I’ve had the chance to fight it with all of my friends. Victory tastes sweet, but it tastes to glory when you share it with the people you love. [sinking down] I’m gonna spend my part of the treasure on Fairy Godmother’s, I desperately need a beauty treatment. Bye, Thomas.
THOMAS: Bye, Roman… Well… Life can put lots of challenges of many kinds in front of us. Some of them, we’ll have to face them on our own and in those cases we must be brave, trust ourselves, and give our best. But other times we’ll have the chance to face them in company. In those cases, remember that the value of teamwork will multiply the possibilities of success. Learn about your project partners. Take the time to know your own pros and cons and investigate your pals’. If you work to support each other in your cons and to boost each other in your pros, no one will be able to stop your team. You will be the best of the best and I’ll be even more proud of you than I already am. Until next time, take it easy, guys, gals and non binary pals. Peace out!
[end card]
[Deceit is in the Light Realm, talking to Honesty inside his body]
DECEIT: ...and then Patton threw a ray of fire that destroyed that dragon witch! You should have seen it!
HONESTY: I’m glad that you had fun, Deceit. You really deserved some spare time for a change.
DECEIT: You should have seen it. You should have stayed awaken over there. I was playing a priest of truth, I could have used some help from you.
HONESTY: I’m sorry… But lately, I’ve been feeling… I don’t know how to explain it, like wearing a little thin.
DECEIT: [alarmed] Are you okay? Do you feel sick or something?
HONESTY: No, it’s not that… It’s just that I feel tired, more than tired, exhausted… Don’t worry, Decey. It will pass if I rest.
DECEIT: Oh, I’m not worrying at all…
HONESTY: You’re lying, Deceit, I can see in your mind. I appreciate your concern over me, but I…
[Honesty suddenly stops talking through Deceit’s body. Deceit stays silent for a few seconds. He shows a face of fear]
DECEIT: Honesty? Honesty!? Can you hear me? I’m not feeling you anymore! Honesty!
HONESTY: Oh… Sorry… for a moment I felt like… out of it.
DECEIT: This isn’t normal, Honesty. For a moment I lost all contact with you, as if you had been gone completely.
HONESTY: It just felt as if I’d fallen asleep. Don’t know how to describe it.
DECEIT: Maybe we should talk to Logan, he’s Thomas’ knowledge. He might know what’s going on.
HONESTY: Only if we have no choice. I don’t want Thomas or the Sides to worry unnecessarily.
DECEIT: Let me try something, okay?
HONESTY: What?
DECEIT: Try to get out.
HONESTY: If you insist…
[Deceit is covered by the yellow cloud. It flickers between yellow and orange for a couple of second, then goes back to yellow, dissolves, and Deceit is still there]
HONESTY: I can’t get out…
DECEIT: [scared] Don’t tell me this is normal, Honesty!
HONESTY: I know it isn’t, but let’s wait, all right?
DECEIT: But…
HONESTY: [firm voice] I said let’s wait.
DECEIT: Okay, I hope you know what you’re doing…
HONESTY: Me too, Deceit, me too…
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aikainkauna · 6 years
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Fic mehm
This was shortish, so might as well post it here. Snurched from the lovely @trelobita .
-What is your total word count on AO3?
-1 421 808. That little?!? I thought I would've gone past the 2 million mark a long time ago. What with Connie whipping me on the way he does.
-How often do you write?
-When the right mood/inspiration comes, and when I'm healthy enough (both mentally and physically) to be in writing condition. Which is not often enough; I hate it when I do want to write, but brain fog and/or physical fatigue mean I can't keep my brain going or my body upright. That's mostly for fiction, though. I can type bloggity waffle like this, and could just about proofread a sex toy review today despite it being a brainfog/tireded day. The deadline for the review was today, so I did it under duress and must've left something out or fucked up some grammar as consequence. Finnish conjugations are hell when your memory is shot to pieces; English is much easier to write because you don't have to remember how to conjugate a word to denote it's in the past tense for a plural with a conditional towards place A, signifying inclusion. No, I'm not joking. Sauvallanikinkos? ("Also with my wand, too, maybe?")
-Do you have a routine for writing?
-My body isn't good with routines and schedules, so no. The only pattern I have is to try and get 1000 words done at least and then to email myself the latest draft after I've finished writing.
-What are your favourite tropes?
-Have you got a month? (This question foolishly asked about your favourite kinks and tropes and pairing types all in the same question, BTW, so I split it up into three questions, because... c'mon.)
Tropes:
-Flawed characters who are still somehow understandable and appealing; not the typical Asshole Protagonist or antihero thing so much but more of an... well, I guess it's just good characterisation I prefer, in the end. Not that kind of squickily obvious macho power fantasy sold as "grittiness" just for the sake of being an asshole (funnily enough, that kind of crap usually comes from the kinds of people who have too much privilege in the first place). So, yeah, good characterisation that's still got some shreds of humanity left is my jam.
-Telepathic lovers. Exactly because it hurts so much when the person who's supposed to love you the most and to understand you the best doesn't, and vice versa. So that's a big RL trauma and squick I prefer to fix, because in fic, I CAN.
-That's a major one, actually. Fix-its not so much on a plot level but on a human level. Especially sexism/gender bullshit-breaking fixes. Fix-its get a bad rap, but that kind of thing, just like the bashing of romance and fanfic, sets off my "ah, this wouldn't be the devaluing of something considered empathic and female/feminine again, now would it?" alarms.
-This overlaps with the pairing thingy, but the Depraved Bisexual is my favourite character type to write. All the Connies, Tennant!Peter Vincent, Captain Renault, Zainab, Laura, etc... YES.
-Male character gives up some masculine privilege he doesn't fancy anyway for the sake of love and empathy/female character gives up stereotypical female things she doesn't fancy anyway in order to be herself and free herself as much as she can from society's chains. Give Torsten all the pwetty dwezzez he wants and for Falcon!Yassamin to remain childfree, dammit!
-Man cuddles and medicates woman during her period and actually empathises/feels how awful it is. As I was saying about the fix-its...
-Funny banter, even if I can't write it as hilariously as I'd want to.
Favourite kinks?
-Poetic prose and Romanticism. It's word porn or nothing, baby.
-Historical detail, accuracy preferred but depends on how the story wants to go (the Barmakids DON'T get butchered horribly by Harun al-Rashid in 803, TYVM).
-Anal! That's almost too obvious to mention.
-Androgynous, genderbending, sex-bending, femme men. Why do you think Connie is the love of my life?
-Lots of arousal-drippage.
-Some way for the bottom to see themselves being banged. Mirrors or telepathy or magic or video camera projecting it before their eyes or whatever. Unfff.
-Orgasms. Always orgasms to complete satisfaction. Orgasm denying or writing it badly or so vaguely that characters/readers can't get any catharsis/release for the arousal is a huge squick. That's a hard limit. Fuck characters who tease and don't let someone get off.
-Psychological/emotional depth. That's such a no-brainer it shouldn't even be necessary to mention (although in these days, it seems to be, because apparently wanting that is now a repressed sexual minority instead of normal human, especially female, sexuality. Oh, fuck off). Yeah, these memes do bring out the pet peeves about internalised misogyny, don't they? Especially the sort that manifests itself in sputter-inducing ignorance. Even my medieval characters and their somewhat dated and essentialist ideas of sex and gender are ahead of Tumblr in the very basics, FFS.
-BDSM that's based very much on extreme care and healing, the sort that uses the intense sexual activities/sensory overload as a kind of way to heal the sub's anxieties and to help the sub let go, achieve catharsis and release. And for the top's love to be the guiding, ravishing, then healing and comforting force that contains the sub and the sub's anxieties in a fiercely loving and protective way and absolutely, so that not a drop spills over. So, yep, BDSM as therapy is my kink in both RL and in fic. Not so much a desire to humiliate or to be humiliated, but on the contrary, to value and to honour the other half. The top finds strength and validation through being the healer, through their power being able to do something good (instead of tearing someone down and having power over them through that). Yes, I know that's not everyone's idea of BDSM, but it's mine and that's what you'll get if it's a healthy relationship I'm trying to portray. (The Barrings and Zainab and Fadl don't have the healthiest ideas of sex, anyhow; Jaffar/Pwinzezz usually do.)
And I'm leaving out so many. You only have to look at my Ao3 pages to see the recurring themes:p
Favourite pairing types?
-Experienced Depraved Bisexual Character/Less Experienced and/or Repressed Character, GIMMIE. Fucking love that shit.
-Similar: Older, More Experienced Man/Younger, Horny Woman.
-Horny couple, usually M/F, seduce someone into a threesome. The Rosesverse and Devilry are full of this, so might as well admit it.
-Do you have a favourite fic of yours?
-I do have a soft spot for the first two fics in the Falconverse. As if you didn't all know that already! They do have some noticeable flaws here and there, especially the first one (I still insist that weird lube choice was HIS and not mine; I do know better and yelled at him at the time), but they still contain my deepest and most profound writing both erotically (and I mean that in the widest sense of the word, encompassing all things Love) and spiritually and character-wise. Defy Not The Stars also turned out better than I expected, considering I had never attempted so much plot and a traditional historical romance novel before. But I guess that Roses, what with its length, has allowed me to explore more aspects of the characters and their lives than anything else I've written. And of course, considering Devilry is my most-read saga ever, I do have a soft spot for that pile-up of a car crash. If only for the sheer intensity of the ride; I was just thinking yesterday how it really was aghori sadhana done through writing. Meditating in a graveyard is for wimps; try spending months in Torsten Barring's fragrant boypussy.
-Your fic with the most kudos?
To no one's surprise, Because The World Belongs To The Devil, at 234 kudos.
-Anything you don’t like about your writing?
-I suck at pacing sometimes. The sex scenes tend to run overlong if I write them in several sessions instead of just one go. It's not that the characters want to try different sex acts and shag more than once during a night, but more that the tension is spread out unevenly ("JFC, why did they change position again? I want them to just fucking come already, damnit!") This is obviously a result of how many things *I* see in my mind's eye during a wank; it's always more of a clipshow of different sex acts and pairings and orientations than one straightforward scenario. I'll be more mindful of that in the future and have been watching out for it in the past few fics already; I don't think the shags in The Guardians of Samarkand overran, for example.
-And sometimes my kinks get too obvious and repetitive for me, too, the way any porn gets tedious and repetitive. But on the other hand, I know very well that fanfic *is* about us imposing our kinks on our darlings, no matter how much we may go on about our dedication to characterisation and such. I've said it before, and I'll say it again: what's key is to get away with your kinks *but* in such a way that they can also engage the reader and that they become interesting and enjoyable not just for you, but for the readers, too. And you need good characterisation for that, and it's a really delicate balance to juggle your kinks and believable characterisation.
-Something you *do* like about your writing?
-I can write immersively and deeply and engage all the senses (sight, touch, scent...) in rich detail, as well as go deeply and profoundly into the emotions. And write some fucking hot porn ;) Those are the things I've had praise for, at least. Maybe my spiritual bits aren't as relatable or something, because people hardly ever remark on those (interestingly, my mum is the only one to have taken up those bits! But I skim over the sex scenes when I read the fics to her, so she only gets the gen). Or then it's the fact that most of the time it's Thief of Bagdad fic, and thus in an Islamic context, and most readers aren't familiar enough with, say, Sufism, to feel like they're qualified to comment without making arses out of themselves. But of course I like my spiritual bits; I'm an ex-religions major!
This had a taggity thing at the end, but I hate doing those because it always puts pressure on them even if you say they don't have to (come, now. The pressure is there, the moment you mention someone by name). I don't own the meme or you, so, as always: do what thou wilt.
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bitchinparty · 6 years
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Panel Voting is open!
Since we only got 7 more panel submissions than there are slots for panels, we decided not to do two rounds of voting as planned. Instead, voting will be open from now until February 18th. The voting form contains all the panels and descriptions along with mod names--please let me know ASAP if I missed any of the co-mod arrangements flying around! Voting closes at 11:59pm on Sunday, February 18th. VOTE HERE! (Voting instructions are in the form. You must be registered for the con for your vote to count. Side effects may include increased heart rate, shortness of breath, uncontrollable gigglefits, and inability to can. Do not taunt Happy Fun Ball.) Panel Descriptions SINGLE FANDOM Women of the Marvel Cinematic Universe (mod: Minim Calibre) Natasha Romanoff, Peggy & Sharon Carter, Jessica Jones, Shuri, Gamora, Valkyrie, Maria Hill, and many, many more! Let's talk about the wonderful women of the MCU and why we love them. Avengers Reassemble (mods: Lucifuge5, mizface) MCU's been kicking it for 10 years and counting. Where is it going and where would we want it to go next? Captain America: The Star Spangled Man With a Plan* (*for certain values of plan) (mods: Minim Calibre, Gwyneth) From a kid from Brooklyn to a bearded outlaw, come talk about Captain America and Cap fandom as it stands on the eve of Infinity War. Pacific Rim: Uprising - Next Gen Heroes Yay? (mod: Raine Wynd) Pacific Rim Uprising gave us another apocalypse and a set of new heroes to like. Let's talk - and maybe discuss where Raleigh and Herc were doing while this was going on. :-) The Real Bad Place Is The Friends We Made All Along (mods: SDWolfpup, Brynn, Minim Calibre) The Good Place started with a straight-forward premise and became one of the most complicated, delightful, and philosophy-loving shows on TV. Let's talk about why we love it (so many reasons!), how it manages to keep turning its own premise with such skill, and what we hope for next season. The State of Bandom: 2018 (mods: aethel, Lucifuge5) Bandom in 2018 is a different beast from Bandom in 2007. We'll chat about how the fandom has changed (and how it hasn't) and what the musicians are up to now. Come reminisce about your time in Bandom! A short time ago, in a fandom not so far away... (mods: bessyboo, exmanhater) Let’s talk STAR WARS! Originals, Prequels, Sequels, Rogue One, Clone Wars, Rebels, EU—which parts are you really feeling, and why? Which parts that you’re not already into should you check out? What did you think of The Last Jedi? Everything from the galaxy far, far away is on the table! Miss Fisher's Intersectional Feminism (mod: krytella) The adaptation of MFMM from books to the screen aged Phryne up into a rare portrayal of a glamorous heroine over 40 surrounded by a broad range of supporting female characters. The show tackles social issues around gender and class and occasionally attempts to grapple with racism and Australia’s colonial history. What do we love about it, what do we wince at about it, what do we wish we had fanworks about for it? Visit Themyscira (mods: cyborganize, metatxt) Share your Wonder Woman story, whether you're a movie lover, a Lynda Carter devotée, or a long-suffering comics fan. A conversation about the conversation about Wonder Woman: why we feel how we feel about her, what she represents, how she has been represented. Explore Diana's origin in the early 1940s (see: Professor Marston and the Wonder Women) and her fictional origin in the Amazon culture of Paradise Island / Themyscira, and why the character and her worlds are still relevant. Will involve the F word – feminism! (And the other F word – femslash!) META AND MULTIFANDOM Sometimes we pay for it (mod: rivers_bend) come talk about queer romance novels, fannish tropes in pro fiction, and finding the perfect book for you. It's the End of the World As We Know It, And I Feel Fannish (mods: SDWolfpup, cyborganize) Post-apocalypse shows & fic are plentiful, and have plenty of fans, even though they're (usually!) very dark. What draws us to these worlds? What are your favorite post-apocalyptic media and why? What do we learn about ourselves from watching others struggle with the destruction of everything they knew? Where Do We Go From Here? (mods: Minim_Calibre, cyborganize) As the Internet changes and sites rise and fall, how do we stay connected as a community? Can we? Explore the state of fandom in 2018 and how has it changed since the first Bitchin' Party ten years ago! Fandoms That Won't Die (mods: aethel, Lucifuge5) Come talk about the fandoms you love that surprised you with their longevity! Why do some fandoms last and others don't? Fannish Osmosis Fic Exchange (mod: Scribe) Write a stranger the fic of their dreams...for a canon you only know about via hearsay! Other types of fanworks welcome, as long as they can be completed in about fifteen minutes; reading/sharing with the room is encouraged for maximum hilarity, but not mandatory. You Like My Thing Wrong (mod: bessyboo) You know that moment when you’re really into a popular thing, but you hate the popular pairing, or character, or fanon characterization? Or maybe you’ve been into something for a million years and suddenly everyone else is on board too, but everything they’re saying and creating is just…WRONG? Friends, let us get together and discuss strategies for taking a breath, chilling out, and avoiding feeling like horrible fandom hipsters or Bitter Old Fandom Queens when other people just Like Our Thing Wrong. Cest is Best (mods: bessyboo, metatxt) Incest and step/pseudocest have seen a rise in popularity recently in the mainstream, from Game of Throne to Billy & Billie to The Flash, but they've been popular in fandom for over a decade. What's the continued appeal of incest in fandom? And why do you think it's starting to hit more mainstream popularity now? Do you have limits on what you will or won't read--and has that changed? Are you here for the sitcom fluff, the dirtybadwrong angst, or something in between? Let's talk about fandom's fondness for keepin' it in the family! Feelings Are The Worst (mod: jedusaur) Emotions run high when you care a whole lot, and fandom is all about caring a whole lot. Let's talk about different types and contexts of fannish feelings, what sparks and alters our fannish interests, how and why conflicts arise in fandom, what feelings even are (your mod will make a sincere effort not to derail the conversation too far into the intricacies of the ventromedial prefrontal cortex), and what situations lead to fandom obsession, frustration, gradual indifference, and loving everyone in this whole damn bar. Alphas, Omegas, Doms, & Subs: Alternate Gender System Tropes (mods: krytella, keerawa) Why do A/B/O, BDSM AU, and other AUs that play with alternate gender designation have such strong appeal? Do they provide a safer space to eroticize gendered oppression, create a dystopian critique of gendered oppression, or both at once? Are slash gender system AUs an expression of internalized misogyny or badly written female characters or something else entirely? Do slash and femslash uses if this trope serve to straighten the queer relationships they depict? How about alpha/alpha and omega/omega stories, or D/s AUs centering switches? Wait, we only have 50 minutes? Documenting Fandom (mod: aethel) Fans have been writing down the history of fandom since fandom began. Let's discuss the various ways and reasons that fans document fandom! And also Fanlore. Speed Dating Small Fandoms (mods: metatxt, cyborganize) A semi-structured con-game where we share and explore why we love the small fandoms we love. By generating a creative categorization structure, together we will match-make fans with new small fandoms relevant to their interests. Our goal is for everyone to leave with a new fandom to date and a new fan joining one of their small fandom faves. TECH AND WORKSHOP A Song and a Dream: Now What? (mods: SDWolfpup, scribe) You've got the perfect song for your fandom - what's next? How do you get source? What do you do with mkv files? Square pixels? Frame rates?! To outline or not to outline? Do I really need a clip database? Let's talk about it all! Break on Through: Getting Beyond the Block (mods: Minim Calibre, thewightknight) Come share tips and tricks for defeating a creative block. Why We Write: Fandom Needs You! (mod: keerawa) This panel is aimed at aspiring writers, experienced writers dipping their toes into fanfiction, fanfic writers who've been going through a dry patch, or anyone looking to get the creative juices flowing. Topics will vary based on the participants, but might include how to start, where to find cheerleaders and betas, where to post, how to get over that hump and throw ourselves into writing something we and other fans will love. I'm sure the FBI has a file on me: research and fandom (mod: Minim Calibre) Ever find yourself needing to know the marriage requirements in places you'll never live? In-depth information on weaponry? Best ways to hide a body? And, of course, sex tips you may or may not ever need. Come share your tales of research gone wild and/or pick up research tips and tricks from your fellow fans. Oral Not!Fic (mod: bessyboo) In this workshop, we’ll define what oral not!fic is, talk a little about how to create it, and then finish up by creating an oral not!fic before the panel is over! Cosplay 101 (mod: bessyboo) Have you ever wanted to get into cosplay, but weren’t sure how or where to start? This panel is for you! We’ll discuss strategies for choosing/designing a character & outfit, and putting together a costume (for both DIY & “I am 0% crafty” options!) Makeup Fandom 101 (mods: bessyboo, visionshadows) Do you not wear makeup because you find it intimidating, but would like to start? Are you a total makeup pro who loves to talk brands and share your knowledge? Maybe you're somewhere in between, but want to know how that person on tumblr achieved that super sweet eye look or particular nail art you loved. This panel is for all of you, as well as anyone else who wants to come talk everything from skin care to shadow to nail polish. (There may be a makeup swap at the end of the panel!)
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waitingformargo · 6 years
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~ Facts about Me ~
I’m pretty cute, I have a cute face with a cute nose and do cute things like naming the head made of styrofoam, that I bought to put my hats on, Brian. Or maybe that’s weird, I don’t know.
I have three guinea pigs that I adore and love to cuddle and I love it when they lick my face.
I listen to audio books at night, I barely fall asleep without.
One of my favourite books is called “The whole world in a single sentence” (translated) and contains little tips on writing, like cinquains or also ideas on what you could write about or words you could use, making you observe your surroundings, find adjectives to describe it etc. I don’t think I actually ever used any of the tips but just flicking through it makes me smile and feel warm. If I had to throw away all my books and pick only one that I can keep it’d be this.
I love my guitar that I named Jesse. I love running my hands over it, smelling it and feeling the strings. But I can’t really play it actually. I know the common chords, sure, but that is hardly enough. I barely practise but it isn’t my aim to be good at it anyway. It calms me down to just strum a bit and to badly play a few of my favourite songs while singing to it.
When I think of home I think of sounds more than anything. I think of children playing and shouting and of the sound of a piano in the background. My parents’ flat is next to my former primary school and next to this again is the music school my dad works at. My room used to be directly next to the school yard and I often did my homework listening to the other children play outside and to the students playing their instruments fading into my room. I actually have a certain melody playing in my head when I think of this. It’s a small instrumental part in the song Unstillbare Gier (Confessions of a Vampire or also Endless Appetite) from the musical Tanz der Vampire (Dance of the Vampires). If you want to listen to it it’s 1:06-1:23 in this version (which is my absolute favourite, having Drew Sarich on vocals): Die unstillbare Gier - Drew Sarich als Graf von K…: http://youtu.be/PCqEybPFdpo
I love music in general, mostly British bands, mostly indie rock.
I collect vinyls although I don’t listen to them often. It’s the same with drinking tea: I love it but I need time for it. I like to savour the moment and to do things like these consciously. I don’t have vinyls playing in the background, I sit in front of my record player and watch the vinyl spin while listening closely. I don’t just take sips of my tea every now and then. I warm my hands on the mug, staring into the brown liquid. I don’t do these halfway. I’d never put a record on when I’m not in the room and I’d never drink tea for breakfast when I only have little time before uni.
When I was younger I sewed myself plush toys. I couldn’t sew well and I still can’t and they all look a bit weird but I am proud of them nonetheless. They were pretty weird animals or even objects though- I still have a hand-sewn jellyfish and a plush belly (yeah, I wrote belly) that I gave to my older sister. It even has a belly button.
I collect sand from all the places I’ve been to in little glass bottles and I like to look for special postcards as well.
I love to write. Since I was 10 I knew I wanted to be a writer. I don’t believe that I ever will be now but that doesn’t change a thing. It is still my greatest and probably my only passion. Nothing has ever come this naturally to me. It’s probably my writing talent that prevents me from bringing anything else to perfection because anything else actually requires work that I am not ready to invest as I was good at writing from the start and expect myself to master every new challenge like I did with this. I haven’t written in a while and nothing makes me hate myself more than when I don’t write for a long time. I don’t want to waste my talent and I don’t want to waste my life. I’m sure this is my biggest fear. To waste myself.
Characters and character development is the most important part for me in a story. I don’t care for the plot. Give me a trashy love story between an alien-human hybrid and a cactus that takes place in the 30th century; as long as the characters are complex and interesting it could still become my favourite book.
I love F. Scott Fitzgerald.
I once created a little book with quotes from Fitzgerald novels for one of my favourite musicians because he made a song full of references to his writing. To this day I like to believe that I am the only one who ever got those hints.
I love drinking milk.
I behave like a child when I am around my parents. When I visit them, coming home to my former home, I can forget about the responsibilities of an adult and pretend everything is like it used to be when I was little. I talk differently with them, feeling like an 8-year-old, play games, solve puzzles, watch movies from my childhood, knowing that they’ll always accept me back like I never grew up.
It makes me proud that one of my heroes smiled at me during a concert.
It makes me proud that I once won in a writing competition.
It makes me proud that I didn’t give up school during an impossibly hard phase and am now able to study at university.
It makes me proud to be a good person.
It makes me proud that I can be proud of myself.
Making this list makes me feel like a complex character from a book someone created and characterised like this, with all these little details because they grew very fond of them and it would be sweet and make me feel loved if that was the case.
I can’t keep plants alive.
I have been suffering from depression since I was about 14. I went through two therapies, am still taking antidepressants and I guess I can’t yet go without them but I’m confident that I’ll be alright eventually.
I always dreamed of having a pet chameleon.
When I was little I used to play with marbles on the floor in the corridor. I gave them names and played they were in school.
I like to draw pictures with hidden objects, adding many details to it.
I rather listen to the audio books of Harry Potter than to read the books. I used to listen to them and draw scenes from it.
I did that with different audio books and movies as well and collected all my drawings in a box. I love to get them out from time to time and look through them.
I still have many of my milk teeth as I put them into a tiny box when they fell out or rather when I pulled them out once they were loose.
I like to remember the times when I played and fell onto my knees, having bruises on them. It’s a very child thing having bruises on your knees.
I like the scent of warm tar in summer, of mowed grass and floor polish.
To me lit candles smell like Christmas while freshly blown out candles smell like birthdays.
I’m silent around strangers. Even with my friends I’m often silent during talks and just listen to them. It’s not that I don’t have anything to say, it’s just that I often don’t know how to say it. Maybe that’s why I love to write. I can structure my thoughts.
I love being alone. I can easily entertain myself and being around too many people for too long wears me out. I need to get home and change into my pajamas to recharge then.
I like dimmed lights and soft voices. I like blankets and calmness and feeling cozy.
I love losing me in myself. It often happens at night, it happens when everything becomes slow and fuzzy, when the night swallows reality and I drift off into my thoughts. I especially get inspired and emotional when there are many lights.
Once I was at a city festival and there were hot-air balloons, their lights flickering and I stood there, among many people with horrible music playing loudly, but that kind of moved into the background and I began to cry at the beauty of the moment. And I must have looked weird but I was just happy and overwhelmed by the world.
I usually repress my anger and swallow it down until I explode and say horrible, exaggerated and unreasonable stuff towards those I’m angry at.
I’m loyal and would do anything for my friends and family.
I love drinking cocoa while watching children’s shows.
I like suspenders, bow ties and glasses although I don’t need them.
I would love to own various wigs so I can change my style for each day.
I love food. Yet everyone says I’m a picky eater and I guess I am. But I love the stuff that I actually do eat.
I should go outside more often.
I have the brain of a fly. I can’t remember where I put my notes, when I have an appointment or what I ate yesterday. I also don’t remember much from my childhood. Whenever my parents try to describe an event to me that took place when I was ten or 13 or even 17 I can’t recall it happened. They could tell me anything and I’d believe it.
I don’t have a sense of orientation at all. I could probably get lost three streets away from my home.
I’m a daydreamer. I’m often lost in thought and although I hear someone is talking to me I don’t stop dreaming, not even for a second to tell the other person I can’t concentrate on them right in that moment which leads to them being annoyed.
I love language and what you can do with it.
I am super lazy.
I have no willpower and can’t force myself to do anything that needs to be done. If I have a course in the morning I often don’t go because I can’t bring myself to leave my bed.
Concerning work I worry too much about not being good enough while at the same time only doing the bare minimum.
I don’t believe in god or a higher instance. I also don’t believe that there will be anything happening after I die. I believe that this will be the end.
I am agender. I don’t identify as either male nor female and that’s not a phase, it’s who I am: human.
I like making lists as they help me a lot to structure my thoughts.
I think that my neck is too short and my arms too fat and I’m self-conscious about my belly but all in all I think I look alright.
I’m good at remembering faces, names and voices.
I love my sister to death. She is the most important person in my life.
I can watch a movie once and memorise the best quotes from it. Me and my sister often talk through quotes and make quizzes about who said what in which movie. It’s our thing.
I love writing letters. I think it’s an intimate thing and you think more about what you want to say when you write a letter than a quick text message. I wish I had a pen pal again who I can get to know through letters and who I can tell secrets about me. I want the exciting feeling of waiting for a letter, of opening your mail box to find one.
I’m into freckles and dimples and moles.
When I feel ugly I put on cute dresses, heels and makeup and watch a movie looking bomb.
I like using my typewriter. I love the clicking noise, the font, and that I need more time this way. It makes me think more about what I write. It fuels my creativity.
I’m a procrastinator.
If I had the choice to either go back in time or into the future I'd always choose to go back. I don't want to know what will happen to Society and Earth. This knowledge would burden me too much.
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publishontumb · 7 years
Text
Testing display of HTML elements
This is 2nd level heading
This is a test paragraph.
This is 3rd level heading
This is a test paragraph.
This is 4th level heading
This is a test paragraph.
This is 5th level heading
This is a test paragraph.
This is 6th level heading
This is a test paragraph.
Basic block level elements
This is a normal paragraph (p element). To add some length to it, let us mention that this page was primarily written for testing the effect of user style sheets. You can use it for various other purposes as well, like just checking how your browser displays various HTML elements by default. It can also be useful when testing conversions from HTML format to other formats, since some elements can go wrong then.
This is another paragraph. I think it needs to be added that the set of elements tested is not exhaustive in any sense. I have selected those elements for which it can make sense to write user style sheet rules, in my opionion.
This is a div element. Authors may use such elements instead of paragraph markup for various reasons. (End of div.)
This is a block quotation containing a single paragraph. Well, not quite, since this is not really quoted text, but I hope you understand the point. After all, this page does not use HTML markup very normally anyway.
The following contains address information about the author, in an address element.
Jukka Korpela, [email protected] Päivänsäteenkuja 4 A, Espoo, Finland
Lists
This is a paragraph before an unnumbered list (ul). Note that the spacing between a paragraph and a list before or after that is hard to tune in a user style sheet. You can't guess which paragraphs are logically related to a list, e.g. as a "list header".
One.
Two.
Three. Well, probably this list item should be longer. Note that for short items lists look better if they are compactly presented, whereas for long items, it would be better to have more vertical spacing between items.
Four. This is the last item in this list. Let us terminate the list now without making any more fuss about it.
The following is a menu list:
One.
Two.
Three. Well, probably this list item should be longer so that it will probably wrap to the next line in rendering.
The following is a dir list:
One.
Two.
Three. Well, probably this list item should be longer so that it will probably wrap to the next line in rendering.
This is a paragraph before a numbered list (ol). Note that the spacing between a paragraph and a list before or after that is hard to tune in a user style sheet. You can't guess which paragraphs are logically related to a list, e.g. as a "list header".
One.
Two.
Three. Well, probably this list item should be longer. Note that if items are short, lists look better if they are compactly presented, whereas for long items, it would be better to have more vertical spacing between items.
Four. This is the last item in this list. Let us terminate the list now without making any more fuss about it.
This is a paragraph before a definition list (dl). In principle, such a list should consist of terms and associated definitions. But many authors use dl elements for fancy "layout" things. Usually the effect is not too bad, if you design user style sheet rules for dl which are suitable for real definition lists.
recursion
see recursion
recursion, indirect
see indirect recursion
indirect recursion
see recursion, indirect
term
a word or other expression taken into specific use in a well-defined meaning, which is often defined rather rigorously, even formally, and may differ quite a lot from an everyday meaning
Text-level markup
CSS (an abbreviation; abbr markup used)
radar (an acronym; acronym markup used)
bolded (b markup used - just bolding with unspecified semantics)
big thing (big markup used)
large size (font size=6 markup used)
Courier font (font face=Courier markup used)
red text (font color=red markup used)
Origin of Species (a book title; cite markup used)
a[i] = b[i] + c[i); (computer code; code markup used)
here we have some deleted text (del markup used)
an octet is an entity consisting of eight bits (dfn markup used for the term being defined)
this is very simple (em markup used for emphasizing a word)
Homo sapiens (should appear in italics; i markup used)
here we have some inserted text (ins markup used)
type yes when prompted for an answer (kbd markup used for text indicating keyboard input)
Hello! (q markup used for quotation)
He said: She said Hello! (a quotation inside a quotation)
you may get the message Core dumped at times (samp markup used for sample output)
this is not that important (small markup used)
overstruck (strike markup used; note: s is a nonstandard synonym for strike)
this is highlighted text (strong markup used)
In order to test how subscripts and superscripts (sub and sup markup) work inside running text, we need some dummy text around constructs like x1 and H2O (where subscripts occur). So here is some fill so that you will (hopefully) see whether and how badly the subscripts and superscripts mess up vertical spacing between lines. Now superscripts: Mlle, 1st, and then some mathematical notations: ex, sin2x, and some nested superscripts (exponents) too: ex2 and f(x)g(x)a+b+c (where 2 and a+b+c should appear as exponents of exponents).
text in monospace font (tt markup used)
underlined text (u markup used)
the command cat filename displays the file specified by the filename (var markup used to indicate a word as a variable).
Some of the elements tested above are typically displayed in a monospace font, often using the same presentation for all of them. This tests whether that is the case on your browser:
This is sample text inside code markup
This is sample text inside kbd markup
This is sample text inside samp markup
This is sample text inside tt markup
Links
main page
Unicode Standard, chapter 6
This is a text paragraph that contains some inline links. Generally, inline links (as opposite to e.g. links lists) are problematic from the usability perspective, but they may have use as “incidental”, less relevant links. See the document Links Want To Be Links.
Tables
The following table has a caption. The first row and the first column contain table header cells (th elements) only; other cells are data cells (td elements), with align="right" attributes:
Sample table: Areas of the Nordic countries, in sq km Country Total area Land area Denmark 43,070 42,370Finland 337,030 305,470Iceland 103,000 100,250Norway 324,220 307,860Sweden 449,964 410,928
Character test
The following table has some sample characters with annotations. If the browser’s default font does not contain all of them, they may get displayed using backup fonts. This may cause stylistic differences, but it should not prevent the characters from being displayed at all.
Char. Explanation Notes ê e with circumflex Latin 1 character, should be ok — em dash Windows Latin 1 character, should be ok, too Ā A with macron (line above) Latin Extended-A character, not present in all fonts Ω capital omega A Greek letter − minus sign Unicode minus ⌀ diameter sign relatively rare in fonts
Jukka Korpela
Date of creation: 2000-09-15. Last update: 2013-03-21.
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