#it was very rare and niche when i started
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girldriveroscar · 2 days ago
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Parasocial Oscar and Landoscar analysis ahead u have been warned.
Contextually, 2020 Oscar was finally pushing open the door to the world of F1 as a potential driver (Mark Webber management, Renault Sport Academy, Eurocup Championship, etc.) and that fact combined with still being a schoolboy, surrounded by mates who actively followed his career and were his personal hypemen definitely made Oscar a bit of a hotshot to gossip about. Sure, he's kinda a nerd who games and races but also he's got great grades and a pretty girlfriend and he's coworkers with max fewtrell, best friend of emerging F1 heartthrob, lando norris, so really the cards were lining up in his favor. And yet none of that success (both socially, as it appeared to his peers, and personally, career-wise) went to Oscars head. Rather, he oozed this dorky endearing confidence that planted the seed of cool self-certainty that'd follow him into his F1 career. I mean from the very start, we can witness how Oscar took everything in stride, building a strong sense of self over easily inflating his ego.
This got kinda long so the rest goes under the cut for organizing sake!
Then, observing his Prema years, Oscar was newly thrust into a whole new team vibe. And in response, he outwardly tried time and time again to be a team player with the hazing/embarrassing bits (insert multiple clips of him dancing and singing despite initial hesitation, easily accepting very personal race vlogging into his daily regime, making hundreds of silly gifs for every occasion (heavily encourage everyone to take a look bc there's genuinely so many))
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NGL watching Prema vids was what initially helped me understand Oscar better/made me like him bc we get the most clear display of his lack of ego. There seemed to be a general understanding coming out of this content: the media took an exorbitant amount of energy and wasn't at all conducive to developing his racecraft. buuuuuut regardless Oscar maintained an attitude of these people are my closest thing to family out here, they care about my wellbeing and my success and god damn it if they wanna take photos in matching Christmas PJs then hand over the damn PJs. And that was all of course bolstered by his growing success and notoriety on twitter. Just as he'd established a strong sense of self from the very start, now his public identity took it's shape in a way that felt honest and lifelike <Insert Clip of Angelina pointing out his messy clothes and Piastri Shrug>. He managed to carve out a niche amongst the Prema cast and it's not that he needed to be funny but if people memed him and laughed then hey if it gets me popularity I'm all for it. 
Honestly when people dog on Oscar, saying he's got no personality it makes me crazy because it's the total opposite! I think the charm in observing his growth from Renault Academy to Prema to F1 is catching how quickly he established an unchanging confidence in not only his racecraft and wheel knowledge but also in his personality- and how that personality shines through in subtle ways. When Lando does his negging, everyone just heard Oscar sing for the first time in McLaren, am I a funny teammate, Oscar takes it in stride. He doesn't blush, nor take insult, because he has no complex - he's confident about who he is, even if people don't find it amusing. Oscar knows he's not too shy to burst into song, it's just that there isn't anyone who needs him to, so why should he? He knows Lando doesn't think he's funny, but it's not like he was trying to be anyways, so what's it matter? On the flip side too, the rare times we get an outward expression of his confidence are GEMS. The Pool Promo, where he *unprompted* shows off with a trickshot and wins, THIS VIDEO where he eggs on Lando to call lies on his confidence, calling out Carlos/Lance when they interfere with his driving, does it please you greatly that you've won before Lando, is max the best driver on the grid, the whole cricket video, etc etc.
(LOL because I write about fashion outside of this blog and someone might appreciate the connection, in my brain I kinda liken Lando and Oscar's respective confidence to loud/quiet luxury. Lando's a OOAK Hot Pink Birkin and Oscar is a Helmut Lang black slack lolol) (Not a diss btw both items have social connotations/importance that we could unpack for hours but I digress)
I digress I digress I digress. Going back to the Prema assigned humiliation rituals. In a way I think Oscar's ethos regarding embarrassment/lack of ego heavily simplifies down to this story. His mom goes on to explain how after winning an award she gave him a big kiss in front of the whole school and, contrary to how most kids would be embarrassed or angry at the sudden loud affection, Oscar just brushed it off like no matter! "He's just resigned to it" <- literally the most OP81 psychoanalysis of all time thank you Nicole Piastri. For Oscar, the implied embarrassment he should be feeling does not register, as he simply receives love without any grievances, and hasn't the mind to worry how everyone else perceives this exchange. I swear I have a point pls stick with me. So, reiterating, this is the Prema treatment, sitting in front of the camera, Oscar resigns to producing content that's at least moderately enthusing because at the end of the day, the love for his team and the people he's working with is what's worth sacrificing mystery or "cool-ness" for. And even that's a bit of a misstep because I don't think he views it as a sacrifice so much as 'being perceived' doesn't fall on his radar of important things at all. Which! is what makes Oscar SO effortlessly nonchalant in an objectively cool way! (like this is where the more surface-level likening to Kimi Raikkonen <certified Ice Man> comes from) (The real Oscar freaks know he's not any cooler than his indifference and he's actually an incredibly endearingly awkward guy. He just doesn't take himself too serious, idk you get it.)
Now continuing down this timeline, F1 Oscar, who's got exponentially more eyes on him and a humongous team of people who's names he is still learning- comparatively, who is the one guy he can definitely remember the name of. In this transfer of teams and people, all this “I love you even if its kinda objectively embarrassing for me” energy Has to go somewhere and where else would it go than the one guy who’s name he can remember; the one guy in the same exact position as him; the one guy who he’s followed and idolized since 14! YEAH YEAH. And now Lando himself is hardly an extrovert like Oscar’s old prema friends/coworkers, so instead of yes I'll do a stupid dance so you can have good content and make your job easier Oscar -Acts of Service- Piastri has kinda got the most easy job in the world of loving Lando —I just want to make eye contact and know you hate/love this as much as I do— Norris. Like they genuinely match each others freaks in the sweetest introverted mutually beneficial way.
When you really dissect Oscar's Prema content, he’s equally expressive to everyone! He stares holes in the heads of Fred/Logan, doubles over laughing at Arthur/Robert, blushes over Angelina's teasing; it's a sanction of his care and attention divulged to each person in his sphere, one slice of the Oscar cake. Now take Lando? He's been treated to the whole Oscar Cake with a side of ice cream and a cherry on top. Like imagine if you had 10 glasses of water and you poured all of that water into one glass. Suddenly it’s overflowing and there’s water all over the table and the mess is apparent to everyone and the waiter is bringing over towels and someone's grandma just fucking slipped in the puddle and there's a baby crying and- right? right. Oscar’s love language that was distributed across an entire team of people now has nowhere to go but Lando. And not only is it love in respect to the game, it's I've known you years before you knew me, I fell asleep to your voice, watched you grow into the man you are today type love. Oscar is folded at the waist drowning Lando, staring at him with the force of 10x one man's ration of love and we are all god's honest witnesses! Yea no wonder he want that cookie so effing bad tf!!!!!
And it’s such a compelling dynamic because Oscar has been ready to transfer that quiet affection since the very beginning (had old pics of Lando on his phone up through his first year of F1 rightttt right) and since the start of it all, we just get front row seats to Lando reacting to this unconditional respect/love. WHICH IS EVEN GREATER FOR THE FREAKS AND THE WEIRDOS BC LANDO IS SUCH A WEIRDO AND HIS COMPLEXES TOWARDS OSCAR ARE SO COMPLICATED. Basically like. idk. I love when they beef bc Oscar is like I love u I love u I love u and landos like idgaf I’m cheating on u actually no I’m sorry come here I will give u silly nicknames reserved for only me to call u, but actually fuck u and ur talent I’m not spraying u w champange but also oh my god I’m a mess come be freaky w me about it,,,,, the put Lando Norris in a scenario versus his own mind agenda is great. (Bringing back the og tag to just say not ln4 hate, i just like to observe him like a bug in a jar and shake the jar hard bc he is a millionaire and my silly wabbit who I experiment on) anyways. Yea. Lando is complex. Oscar is cool bc he doesn’t care if he is cool and yet simultaneously he's so uncool bc having a crush on a guy for 8 years before being his mclaren arranged failhusband has never been easier nor sexier. OKAY. NO MORE. for now.
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abyssalaerlocke · 3 months ago
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How I feel about this complaint in general. In my corner I see "it's all subby content", and "why is all the ftm stuff small bottoms? It should be more masculine guys topping"
And like — that's what the people creating are interested in. It might not be representative of people or trans guys, but it's representative of the current creators' experiences and interests. They're not doing it wrong. It's not some conspiracy. It's just what they enjoy and feel comfortable with.
If you want a type of content — create it! Encourage others who share your preferences! Share the things you like so more of their target audience can find it, and be inspired, and feel there's a space to make and enjoy that kind of content!
"m/m always drowns out f/f content!!" so engage with f/f the way fujoshis engage with m/m? cultivate a space where people want to actually product fic and art for your ships? be a little bit of a cringe horny freak and don't base your fandom experience off of shame and policing? what's not clicking
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faderifter · 2 years ago
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i know this point has been made exhaustively but being fuck zoned hurts SO BAD. thinking you make a friend only for them to distance themselves when they realise they can’t have sex with you, for that to happen over and over, to feel like the only way you can make some kind of connection is to be sexually available…it’s crushing and extremely isolating. This is an experience I think most people perceived as female can relate to, doubly so for those who are in male dominated spaces and/or autistic
#autism#sexualisation#fadetext#i made a few friends after moving to the city after spending a while in an EXTREMELY weird and bad headspace#they were very involved in the local scene of the niche music i liked#and after meeting them i started feeling more optimistic about finding a community and about life#so when they disappeared after finding out about my relationship it was crushing#it’s still crushing and i lost my in into the scene#one was my fault for being too scared to end a misunderstanding asap#and that still hurts because we got extremely close and i felt a connection which is EXTREMELY rare for me#and i still think about them almost daily lol!!#but the other wasn’t my fault beyond if they didn’t like my personality but it still hurts#it’s hard to feel like i can have a partner OR a larger social life/friends#he doesn’t do anything to isolate me himself it’s all not being able to make friends without sex#both because of men’s dehumanizing interest in me and because i can’t open up without sleeping with someone#and they’re rarely real friends! only 2 have stuck around and one (online) doesn’t want to visit if i’m not single#so i only have about 2 irl friends and the rest are my boyfriends that i would lose if we broke up#this is all to say that i feel extremely isolated and men’s sexualisation is both further isolating and a source of temporary relief#i love tags sm thank you public but effectively invisible personal diary system#if anyone has read all this it’s sin and even if i do a bad job of keeping in touch i love you dearly#and wish you were here
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vanteguccir · 9 months ago
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── ୨୧ ! 𝗧𝗜𝗞𝗧𝗢𝗞 𝗧𝗥𝗘𝗡𝗗𝗦
         𝒎𝒂𝒕𝒕 𝒔𝒕𝒖𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒐𝒍𝒐 x reader
SUMMARY: 4 times that Y/N and Matt made a couple's trend on tiktok.
WARNING: None.
REQUESTED?: Yes, by @paytonthereader
AUTHOR'S NOTE: That is my work, I DON'T authorize any plagiarism! | English isn't my first language, so I'm sorry if there's any grammar error.
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Just like Matt worked with YouTube making videos with his brothers, Y/N worked with TikTok. She created her account on the app in 2019, and from 2020, she lost her camera shyness slowly and started posting her own videos, creating content for her favorite niche: makeup and skincare.
When Matt moved to Los Angeles, the two met in an unexpected and cliché encounter in line at a bakery on a rainy morning. Their friendship grew as quickly as it began, and feelings were gradually cultivated. With both of them working on the Internet and being public figures, it was easy to understand each other and fit in their crazy schedules.
It didn't take much. The two quickly found themselves in a tangle of reciprocal feelings. Matt felt proud that he was brave enough to make the first move, and soon, the two were in a beautiful relationship that blossomed very quickly and lightly.
Because they both work with social networks, they decided not to keep their love a secret, and what surprised them most was how the fans supported them together, it was rare that they encountered comments from haters.
With that, in all of the Sturniolo Triplets' YouTube videos and Y/N's TikToks, there were thousands of people begging them to make more content together, being called "the power couple" by both fandoms.
That's why Y/N always found a way to convince Matt to do some couple trends on TikTok with her, and despite pretending he didn't like it, she knew how much he adored making mini videos with her, showing to the world how much he loved her.
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1.
Y/N fitted her phone on the phone holder attached to the right side of the front windowscreen of Matt's car - which was there precisely because she loved recording herself doing makeup there, being the passenger princess she was -, lowering the brightness of the screen so that the boy couldn't see the TikTok camera open.
She adjusted the position of the device so that it covered the two front seats, pressing the red button to start recording, smiling slightly to the camera before looking away.
Matt didn't notice her movements, too focused on the sight in front of him, driving slowly through the McDonald's drive thru line, waiting for their turn. His left hand held the steering wheel, while his right hand rested on Y/N's thigh, caressing her covered skin gently.
Y/N's calm playlist played softly through the speakers, creating a comfortable atmosphere for both of them.
The girl knew that she was going to make the order that day, knowing that Matt was feeling too anxious to talk to a stranger, so her plan would work.
"Do you already know what you will want, baby?" The girl asked. Her tone was low as she turned her upper body to the left, focusing her eyes on the brunette.
"Just some nuggets, baby. And Coke, please." He asked, looking at her quickly before returning his eyes to the cars in front of them, receiving a nod from the girl.
It didn't take long and soon it was their turn. Matt rolled down the window on the driver's side door, smiling kindly at the attendant before turning to his girlfriend, waiting for her to start the order.
Y/N leaned to her left, getting closer to Matt so the attendant could hear her clearly.
"Hi, good evening! Can I have a cheeseburger with fries and a Diet Coke, please?" She spoke her order, waiting for the attendant to select it before starting Matt's. "And my husband will just have a big portion of nuggets and a Coke, please."
Y/N tried to capture Matt's reaction without letting on that she was expecting something, watching him surreptitiously from the corner of her eye, pressing her lips into a thin line when she saw him smile big, lowering his face to hide the red color that took over his cheeks.
His hand - which was still on the girl's thigh - squeezed the flesh lightly, and Y/N could swear his fingers were shaking.
After receiving confirmation from the attendant and paying for them, Matt rolled up the window and gently accelerated to get back in line.
When the car in front stopped again, he finally turned to Y/N, a huge smile on his face as his eyes glistened with tears.
"I'm your husband?" He asked, his voice coming out weak from the emotions he felt, his cheeks burning with redness while he felt his heart accelerating.
"Not yet, but one day you will be." Y/N said in a low voice, smiling equally big. She brought her left hand to Matt's right, caressing the soft skin, holding herself back from pulling him into a hug and peppering him with kisses.
"I love you so much. So, so much." He muttered, moving closer and sealing his lips over Y/N's, closing his eyes and letting a happy sigh scape through his nose, a smile still on his mouth.
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2.
Y/N placed her phone on the kitchen counter next to the stove so that the front camera was facing her and taking in as much information from the room as possible.
The girl was cutting some vegetables while preparing lunch for herself and the boys, wiping her hands on the dishrag before clicking on the screen, starting the recording.
"Baby!" She called from where she was, smiling quickly to the camera before lifting her chin slightly so that her voice echoed better. "Come here, I need a favor."
The sound of her and Matt's shared bedroom door opening sounded before light footsteps approached. Soon, the boy's image appeared behind Y/N as he walked closer to her.
"Hi honey. What do you need?" He spoke back, wrapping his arms around his girlfriend's waist and resting his chin on Y/N's right shoulder, sealing the area with his lips softly before noticing the phone recording them. "What are you doing?" Matt asked, his brow furrowed as his eyes focused on the image of the two hugging each other that stared back at him.
"I'm just recording a recipe." She lied quickly, lightly biting her bottom lip to hold back her laughter. She really didn't know how to lie to him. "Baby, can you go to the market for me? I need tomatoes to make sauce." Y/N asked, releasing the knife she was holding in her right hand and bringing it to Matt's head still on her shoulder, stroking his hair lightly, receiving a happy sigh in response.
The boy let out a sound of agreement, nodding his head before lifting it up, kissing Y/N's shoulder and her cheek, squeezing her waist one last time before taking some steps back.
"That's it, baby?" He asked as he felt his pants pocket with his right hand, checking if he had his wallet and car keys.
Y/N agreed, picking up the knife again and going back to cutting the vegetables.
"Alright, if you remember anything else, just text me. I love you, bye." Matt asked, turning around and starting to walk towards the stairs.
"Okay, thanks!" Y/N thanked him, smiling small when she heard Matt's footsteps stop abruptly. She looked up at her phone slightly, seeing her boyfriend turn around with a confused expression.
"I love you, bye." He repeated, watching her closely.
"Bye, honey. Drive safe." She added, trying to hide her smile as she turned her attention back to the vegetables.
Matt approached her again, positioning himself behind her body and tilting his head to the side so he could see her profile, his blue eyes running over her features.
"I love you." He repeated it a third time, this time slowly, as if he were speaking to a child.
"Okay." Y/N persisted, keeping her eyes on the vegetables, taking deep breaths to keep from laughing.
"Did I do something?" Matt asked, his right hand lightly grabbing Y/N's right arm and making her release the knife, turning her body so that she was facing him. "I'm sorry." He asked, his eyes scanning his girlfriend's face as a weight took over his gaze; he felt guilty despite not knowing what he had done.
"What? No, you didn't do anything." The girl shook her head, intertwining their fingers and looking at him in false confusion.
"But... that's not how it works, baby. I say, "I love you", and you have to say "I love you" back." Matt insisted, his brow furrowed as he tried to understand what was happening. "Did something happen that I don't know about?"
A sound of laughter escaped Y/N's throat, she couldn't keep pretending when seeing the confusion in her boyfriend's eyes, her heart warmed with the way he was trying to apologize and fix something he didn't do and that, in fact, didn't even exist. Matt remained watching her, feeling even more lost than before.
"I'm sorry, It's just a prank, baby. It's for a TikTok." The girl explained, pointing to her phone that was still recording them.
Matt rolled his eyes, sighing in relief before a smile took over his face.
"You're still going to give me a heart attack." He muttered, shaking his head. "Let's do it again then. I love you, bye." Matt repeated, still holding his girlfriend, who laughed lightly at his reactions.
"I love you more, my love." She finally responded, reaching forward and quickly sealing their lips. "Now go buy my tomatoes."
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3.
Y/N held her phone with her right hand, the screen showing the TikTok camera open, with the audio already selected, just waiting to be started.
She was standing in front of the closet doors in her shared room with Matt. The lights were low, forming a comfortable atmosphere.
Her left hand held her favorite red lipstick from Kylie Cosmetics, with the lid off and the contents showing.
Her right thumb clicked the red button to start recording, the audio echoing through the four walls.
"Stay with me"
She applied one more layer of lipstick to her bottom lip, smudging it a little on purpose.
A masculine hand - Matt's - appeared in the camera view, cupping Y/N's chin firmly and wiping away the smudged lipstick with his thumb gently, pulling her face up so she was looking at him.
"I don't want you to leave..."
Y/N turned her phone slightly so the camera caught the two of them, Matt appearing at her side with his face and neck smeared with lipstick marks.
His face was facing hers, his blue eyes traveling from her eyes to her painted lips, a smirk appearing on his cheeks.
Y/N looked up at him through her eyelashes, feeling her face take on a red color due to the intensity of his gaze, smiling shyly.
Matt pulling her face for a kiss was the last image captured on camera, before the TikTok ended.
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4.
"Baby?" Y/N called out loud, her eyes briefly flicking to her phone, which had the TikTok camera open, already recording herself.
She was sitting on the couch in the living room, the television on in the background as her favorite series played.
"Yes, baby?" Matt responded from their bedroom, leaving the room seconds later and approaching the living room, stopping near the couch as he looked at his girlfriend, waiting.
"Do we have orange?" She asked, turning her face towards him, smiling small when she saw a confused expression appear in his eyes.
"The fruit? Hm, I guess so. We bought it last time we went to the market." Matt replied, resting his hand on the back of the couch, leaning his hips on the armrest.
"I really feel like eating an orange right now." Y/N continued, closely watching her boyfriend's reaction.
"Oh, I'll get you one, hold on." Matt responded quickly, turning around and walking over to the fridge, opening the door and reaching for the fruit from the fruit and vegetable drawer.
Y/N looked at her phone camera wide-eyed, catching her bottom lip between her teeth as she smiled big, a reddish hue taking over her cheeks.
Just under two minutes later, Matt returned with a small bowl in hand, and Y/N quickly recognized it as her favorite bowl that had bee designs on it.
"Here, my love." He handed her the ceramic. Y/N took it and looked inside, seeing her orange not only peeled but cut so that she could eat it slowly and without getting her hands dirty.
Y/N pouted as her eyes filled with tears.
"Thank you." Her voice was broken due to the amount of love she felt at that moment, looking up at her boyfriend.
"What is it?" Matt asked worriedly, sitting down next to her and pulling her close, laying her head on his right shoulder as he brought his head closer to hers, sealing his lips on her hair and exhaling lightly, smelling the soft smell of shampoo. "Why are you crying, baby?"
"I just love you so much."
"I love you more, silly."
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taglist:
@lustfulslxt @ladybunny44 @worldlxvlys @earth2starkey @remussbitch @freshloveforthefit @il0vebeingdelulu
(If you want to be added to the taglist, go to this post)
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am-i-the-asshole-official · 11 months ago
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AITA for scamming my ex out of an extremely valuable virtual pet?
🐓🥤to recognize. This might be a very long post with a lot of added context for a very niche hobby and a very small actual conflict.
I religiously play a virtual pet site called Chicken Smoothie. It's a pretty old site as far as virtual pet games go, starting back in 2008, so there is a pretty solid established site economy. Just for some context, Every pet on the site has a rarity, ranging from "OMG So Common" to "OMG So Rare", being the most common and most rare respectively. But there are rarities within those rarities, where some OMGSRs can be worth more than others based on species and demand. For example, an OMGSR dog from 2008 will be worth more than an OMGSR rat from 2008 despite being the same highest rarity and year, because people prefer the dogs over rats. These pets can get extremely valuable. You can't sell them for real money (according to site rules, but of course there's a black market), but the site has its own virtual currency you can buy (with real money) and trade for called Chicken Dollars, and you can also trade a valuable pet for other valuable pets. It gets very complicated, with the community coming up with its own set of value terms each pet can have. I'm not getting into specifics there, that's not important.
Every year, on December 18th, CS has gift boxes you can adopt from. These gift boxes can contain any rare pet from any previous year, including special "Unreleased pets" that you can only get from these Dec 18th boxes, with a very slim chance. These unreleased pets are some of the most valuable and rarest in the game.
Recently, I had seen my ex posting on the forums. I didn't know he had an account, he had made it within this year, long after I got the fuck away from him, and I only knew it was him because he uses the same username everywhere. This person had groomed me, physically abused me when we were together (we no longer live anywhere near each other, thankfully) and has always been emotionally manipulative. He does not know I play, and he wouldn't recognize my account as me. I took a note of his account and left it be for a while, until December 18th hit and I took a peek at what he had got. And what he got was one of the new Unreleased pets, which currently at the time of writing this only looks like a box of cereal. (Most pets on the site have growth stages.) And even better, all his groups were open for trade, so I took a chance and sent an extremely terrible trade. I told him that this pet would only be a recent rare, and I offered him a "Very Rare" rarity (but not very valuable) pet from 2018, telling him I was overpaying. (In the CS community, this is known as Ninjaing, and it's Not A Good Thing To Do). I didn't expect him to accept it, I at least thought he'd be smart enough to ask in the trade advice thread that is literally pinned on the home page for December 18th, but he didn't. He took my word for it and accepted the trade, and now I own an unreleased pet that will eventually end up as an OMGSR.
What I did was not a bannable offence. He will not get his unreleased pet back. The CS mods are laughable at worst, incompetent at best, and don't do anything to stop scamming. They have an "eh, sucks to be you, sorry, be smarter next time" mentality when people get scammed (Which is insane because there are literal single digit aged children allowed on this site!!!)
After taking a bit to think about it, I do feel a bit guilty because I really would not do this in any other circumstances. I hate scamming. I did what I did out of anger and contempt, and I do feel a bit guilty because in essence, I scammed a new player that didn't have much else and didn't know any better.
I'm still keeping that unreleased cereal box no matter what though
What are these acronyms?
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nknoxe-n · 2 months ago
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ᴺᴼᵂ ᴾᴸᴬᵞᴵᴺᴳ : Babydoll ​— ​🇩​​🇴​​🇲​​🇮​​🇳​​🇮​​🇨​ ​🇫​​🇮​​🇰​​🇪​
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Synopsis: They hear there are rumours of you two dating?
Warnings: [pre established friendship]
w.c 700
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Isagi Yoichi: He is initially shocked when he hears about the rumour, I mean who wouldn't be? He and his close friend, dating? He immediately clears the air because he doesn't want anyone to think he's going along with the rumour, and tries to be respectful about it either way. The rest of the day he's a bit of a mess though, did he do something to make people think that you two were dating? Was he coming off as a creepy friend? Isagi will approach you awkwardly later on, wanting to clarify things, but also secretly hoping to gauge your feelings. He'd be hoping for some clarity, even if it's just to clear up his own feelings.
Bachira Meguru: Bachira would find the rumour hilarious. He'd laugh it off initially, playfully teasing you about it. He'd start acting extra affectionate towards you, leaning into the fake dating rumour just to see how others would react. He'd constantly tease you by calling you cute nicknames in public or platonically holding your hand. Bachira would likely lean into the rumour just for fun, using it as an excuse to be more playful and close. "Since everyone thinks we're dating, we should act the part, right?" His teasing would have no genuine romantic interest, though, just because he doesn't want to risk your friendship.
Nagi Seishiro: He's not surprised one bit, he'll make a few comments on it to Reo kind of asking for advice without directly asking, believe it or not there was a long-winded rumour that he and Reo were dating so that's why he's not very fazed. "So, people think we're dating. What do you think about that?" He says it so casually that it catches you off guard. He wants to know how you feel about it of course, if it makes you uncomfortable he could always ask Reo to clear things up because he can't be bothered but if you don't mind it not much will change, and you might notice him sitting closer to you more often and sharing his sweets.
Chigiri Hyoma: He HATES baseless gossip or drama, he doesn't think you two have been acting like a couple at all, at least not enough for people to assume so. Chigiri loves to gossip, but something like this was tacky for his taste and not really his niche of drama. He would definitely sit down with you and have a private discussion, he expresses how the rumour annoys him, but he mainly wants to make sure you're okay (:
Kunigami Rensuke: Kunigami would deny the rumour without a doubt no matter when or where, not because he dislikes the idea of being with you, but because he likes what you two have and doesn't want you to feel weird in your friendship with him. He would be confused and slightly embarrassed by the rumour. Kunigami values honesty, like I said, so he’d be uncomfortable with people thinking he’s in a relationship when he’s not.
Itoshi Rin: He’d be colder towards you in public to try and kill the rumour, but this only makes people gossip more about how he's being 'tsundere.' Internally, though, he's conflicted and irritated with himself for even caring in the first place when he should be focused on soccer. Rin would ignore the rumour and act like it doesn't exist, hoping it will die down on its own. He'd continue treating you the same way, cold and blunt in front of others, but a bit softer when it's just the two of you. If you seem worried about it, he will begrudgingly tell you "don't worry about it, people are idiots"
Shidou Ryusei: Shidou would find the rumour amusing and wouldn't hesitate to stir the pot of gossip even more. "Oh? We're dating now? Why didn't you tell me, babe?" he'd say with a cheeky grin every single time someone asks. However, if he sees that the rumour genuinely bothers you, he'd surprisingly tone down his antics. Despite his erratic and chaotic personality, he doesn't actually want to make you uncomfortable. In a rare moment of seriousness, he’d ask if you’re okay with everything and, depending on your answer, decide how to proceed, but if you say it's fine expect him to buy into the rumours even more, he'd probably even end up jumping someone for you.
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copperbadge · 4 months ago
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So the Chicago Public Library does "One Book, One Chicago" every year where they encourage everyone to read the same book and discuss it, and I've been invited to the next title reveal. In the invite and on the RSVP page, this is the logo/marketing they're going with and it's...very specific.
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[ID: The email I received for One Book One Chicago, which includes "You're Invited" done in pixels with the O as a heart, on a background of pastel colors that fade from red to yellow to green; below that it reads "Enter into the Unveiling Experience" and some of the text includes the statement that "The announcement and press event will be an immersive and surprise-filled unveiling of the book's title."]
It's giving Ready Player One, it's giving Polybius, it's screaming "Someone really bought into the metaverse briefly". I'm planning to go to the unveiling, I'm excited and intrigued, but also a little wary. It makes me want to start some kind of pool on what the book will be.
It can't be Phillip K. Dick, we just did Do Androids Dream Of Electric Sheep like five years ago. It's tough to get a measure based on the list of past books, because it covers a number of genres both fiction and non, and sometimes they seem really relevant to the historical moment but sometimes not so much. Maybe How The Internet Happened? But that seems slightly too niche. Then again, so did The Sixth Extinction.
The CPL has been going hard on gaming and tech for teens lately (in a good way, but there's been a noticeable bend in the way they market teen programs), so when a colleague said "Maybe a YA novel?" I did a little search. One book came up in both "books about the internet and the 80s" and "YA books about the internet", which is "Fake" by Ele Fountain, so that's a contender.
What do we think? I don't read much cyberpunk, I rarely am in the know on bestsellers and usually we're doing something that's relatively popular but a few years old. Interested to see what people would speculate it could be.
Also I'm somewhat curious about what algo got me on the mailing list for this -- I've never participated in One Book before and while I am a regular library user and live local to the HWLC, so do like a billion other people. Would love to talk to the person who composed their mailing list. (I am somehow categorized as "Press" in a number of databases belonging to Chicago politicians and for-profit consulting firms, I'm not sure how that happened, so it could be they think I'm a journo.)
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spectersgf · 4 months ago
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harvey specter x reader idk they meet in a book store (maybe the reader could run it?) never giving each other last names or smhting. but the reader is mikes sister and mike tells her all about harvey but no one manges to connect teh dots? idk you have free control i just thought something like that where the reader has nothing to do wiht his work life and is really soft and sweat .
— bookstores and brothers 𓏲 ࣪₊♡𓂃
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pairing: harvey specter × reader (+ mike ross & reader are siblings)
summary: a hotshot lawyer walks into a café bookstore and meets a pretty barista. the world is smaller than he thinks.
warnings: none! kinda suggestive but nothing crazy
wordcount: 3.7k (yikes!)
a/n: first request! sorry this was so horrifically late but hopefully the length makes up for it? but also not proofread OOPS. (more rambling at the end <3)
(if you want to be tagged in future fics or if you have any requests, let me know! for my other fics, here's my masterlist!)
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Ever since your brother, Michael, started making the big bucks at his job as a fraud lawyer, he had decided to invest in you — your business, that is. With his investment, you were able to follow your dream of opening a bookstore-meets-café, with a small apartment atop the store. Your store was popular enough that you were able to live comfortably; you had a community of regular readers who came for your books (especially since you’d always fulfil requests) and a hoard of regulars that came for your coffee. Your coffee was easily the best in the area, and people even went out of their way to get coffee from you.
Someone who went out of their way for your coffee, though you didn’t know this, was Harvey. You knew very little about him; he was a very attractive man who came in at 8:30am, like clockwork, for his black coffee with vanilla and sugar. You were rarely able to converse with him for very long or in a lot of detail, but you had assumptions. He was maybe a banker or some kind of lawyer like your brother, but the only thing you knew for sure was his coffee order and the fact that he wore a three-piece suit every day. On particularly warm days, he’d forgo either the jacket or the vest, both of which were welcome options. On particularly cold days, he wore a scarf and gloves, and even a coat. His hair was always styled the exact same and he had the most wonderful crow’s feet and smile lines. 
This morning, Harvey took you by surprise by coming in earlier than normal. He came in at 8:17am exactly. It was a warm day so he was without his vest, but other than that he was in his normal attire. Since you were having a slower morning this morning, you started his coffee as soon as you saw him approach. By the time he was in the door and at your counter, you’d finished making his coffee and his cup was ready on the counter. You were feeling bold and flirty and had drawn a heart next to his name on the cup and it was visible to him when he stood in front of you.
“Good morning, Harvey.” You were feeling very cheery this morning, and even more so after seeing him walk in the door. 
“Good morning, Y/N. That for me?” He was eyeing the cup on the counter that was very obviously for him, typical smirk on his face and a playful glint in his eye.
“No, it’s a black coffee with sugar and vanilla for the other Harvey in my life.” You teasingly rolled your eyes as he picked up the cup. You weren’t sure if your eyes were deceiving you, but it seemed like he was being careful to not smudge your penmanship on the cup.
“Well, it’s a good thing this other Harvey isn’t here so I can have his coffee.” He took a sip of the drink, completely unfazed by the temperature and smiled. “Perfect as always. Crazy how this other Harvey drinks the exact same niche coffee that I do, hm?”
You bared your teeth in a cheeky smile. “So crazy,” you replied. “Did you want a pastry or anything?” You gestured towards the display case of freshly baked goods, pausing at your favourite. “This one goes down a real treat.”
“How about a rain check on the pastry, and you can bring it with you when I make you dinner tomorrow night at my apartment?” he asked, feeling equally as bold and flirty as you were. He supplemented his question with a warm smile, his entire demeanour oozing confidence. 
“Oh? The elusive Harvey idon’tknowyourlastname asking me on a date, I see?” you teased, though internally you were screaming: ‘YES! I would love dinner with you!’ 
“You’re cute. Is that a yes? Maybe I’ll tell you my last name when you come over.” He was reciprocating your teasing, which you thoroughly enjoyed. You always appreciated a man who could keep up with your humour. 
“I have a better idea. Come back after I close up shop and we can have a reading date. The best way to get to know someone is through the books they like to read.” You smiled shyly, nervous to be rejected, though Harvey didn’t seem like the type of man to rudely reject your ideas. 
His warm smile was all the confirmation you needed. “That sounds perfect. I’ve been meaning to check out the other half of your establishment for some time. I need some enrichment in my life.”
“Well, if by enrichment you mean a cheesy romance, I’m your girl. I have a bad habit of stocking my favourites and I am a romantic at heart, so that’ll make up a lot of what you find here. I have other stuff, too, but I just gravitate to a good romance book,” you rambled. You blushed when you finally caught yourself, smiling as you tucked a loose strand of hair behind your ear. 
“Well, clearly I need some romance in my life. I’ll be here this evening.” He didn’t seem put off by your rambling which you were grateful for. Your stomach buzzed with excitement as you nodded.
“See you this evening.”
───────── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ─────────
Harvey had just signed off for the day and was slipping his jacket over his shoulders when Mike Ross walked into his office.
“Haven’t we talked about you not barging in here unannounced?” He asked, only half joking with his associate.
“We both know you don’t care anymore,” Mike replied, rolling his eyes. “And where are you going? It’s only,” he checked his watch, “5:30. Why do you get to leave but I’m stuck here late?”
“First of all, it’s none of your business where I’m going. And second, I did my time working 23 hours a day. And third, it’s none of your business.” Harvey made the decision to take off his tie as he spoke, wanting to feel more comfortable and casual while he was with you.
“Removing your tie, too? You have a hot date tonight. What restaurant are you taking her to?”
“Mike. Shut up.” 
Mike laughed at Harvey’s reaction. “Alright, have fun old man. Use protection!” He shouted as Harvey walked out of his office, no longer entertaining Mike’s discussion. 
───────── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ─────────
He arrived much earlier than close. You were unusually busy this evening and hadn’t even noticed Harvey walk into the store as you finished the line of coffees in front of you. You finally finished and swapped with your employee to take over as cashier when a familiar voice ordered a familiar, but niche, coffee.
“Can I get a large black coffee with vanilla and sugar? But can the pretty barista make it and sign my name with a heart like she did this morning?” he teased, smiling as he saw you.
“Harvey! You’re early, I’m not off yet,” you replied, brow furrowed with concern.
“I was finished for the day and thought I’d come in early and chill here. And by finished for the day, I mean distracted and eager.”
“And by chill here, you mean bug me until I’m done?” you teased, a playful glint in your eye.
“Something like that,” he replied, the look in his eye matching yours. 
“Okay, well, I’m going to hope you meant me when you said ‘pretty barista’ and I’ll bring your coffee over to you in a second.” A warm blush tinted your cheeks as you spoke, swapping places with your confused barista once again.
You quickly made Harvey’s coffee and signed his cup with a heart as he’d requested. After making a mocha for yourself, you spoke to your employees, asking them to take over for you now that the rush had started to slow down for the night. You removed your apron and took your hair out of its loose bun and found Harvey sitting on a sofa in the bookstore portion of your shop.
“Coffee for the gentleman.” You held the coffee cup out for him to take, the side with his name written on it facing towards him. “I would’ve made it in a mug but I had a weird request from the guy ordering it.”
You took a seat next to him and brought your cup to your lips, taking a sip and letting out a quiet hum of appreciation for your drink. He looked at you quizzically as you did so, expecting you to have to get back to work. 
“I managed to get off early. Perks of being the owner.” You smiled over your cup as you slipped off your shoes and got comfortable on the sofa. 
“I don’t think I ever registered that you were the owner here. It’s like, I knew but didn’t know. Does that make sense?” he asked, smiling as he took a sip of his regular coffee.
“It does. Kinda. My brother Michael helped make it happen, he’s a lawyer at some hotshot firm and invested in me and my little dream.” You gestured around the room as you spoke, smiling gratefully at the thought. 
“Did you know I’m also a lawyer at some hotshot firm?” he asked. His tone was light and playful, which you appreciated. 
“I did not. What’s it like, hotshot?” You tucked your feet under you and wrapped both hands around your cup, turning slightly so that your body was completely facing Harvey.
“Well, I’m the best closer in the city. I’m great at what I do and I love doing it. And I have an associate who is determined to become my mini-me. No complaints.” Deep smile lines framed his mouth like a piece of art as you admired him and took in his words.
“A mini Harvey, huh? Sounds like he looks up to you.” Despite your matter-of-fact tone, you were asking a question, curious to know his opinion on the matter.
“It seems like he does. I don’t ever say it but sometimes it feels like pressure. I’ve worked in the grey a lot and I worry about him following in my footsteps. I wouldn’t ever say that to him though.” He opened up to you, though neither of you had expected it. He was surprised by how easy you were to talk to and how quickly he had allowed himself to be vulnerable with you.
“It does sound like a lot, but I’m sure you have nothing to worry about. My brother always tells me about his mentor; he says that despite making some questionable decisions, he’s great at what he does and he looks up to that. It’s probably a similar situation,” you told him sincerely, reaching out to place one hand on his arm in an attempt to comfort him. 
“His mentor sounds like a great lawyer. What’s his name? Maybe I know him,” Harvey asked, obviously wanting to change the subject from his vulnerable state.
“I’m not sure. I can’t remember, I have the worst memory literally ever,” you reply, smiling shyly. “I’m good at remembering books, though! Shall we get stuck in?”
“Is this the part where you bombard me with a million love stories?” he teased, clearly amused but secretly excited. 
“God no. Just one. Or you can pick your own.”
“Do you like to reread books?” 
“Oh, I love to. I’ve reread almost all of my favourites.”
He looked at you smiling, amused once again by your answer. “How about this. Let’s read your favourite book together, and then next time we can read mine?”
“Oh? Next time? You’re that sure it’s going to go well tonight?” you asked teasingly, giggling to yourself. 
You stood up and walked to the shelving, immediately finding your current favourite book and pulling out two copies. You got comfortable on the sofa once again and handed one copy to Harvey. “This is a current favourite, but I haven’t had a chance to reread it yet. It’s a university-based hockey romance and the main character is a PhD student who’s half-Indian and vehemently hates hockey players. I loved it. If you don’t like it, please. Do not tell me. I can’t cope with that much heartbreak.”
You beamed at him and Harvey felt his heart melt at your expression. You were clearly passionate and excited to share this book with him, and he was looking forward to reading it; to seeing into a small piece of your soul.
The pair of you read together for about an hour. You kept to a similar pace and offered casual commentary and anecdotes from time to time. You had to resist the urge to spoil the plot, sometimes only offering quiet hums as opposed to full sentences. You gradually felt yourselves growing physically closer, until you were laying down with your head next to his leg and your hair draped across his lap, legs dangling over the arm of the sofa. He was idly twirling a strand of your hair, only pausing to turn a page when necessary. 
You finished the chapter you were reading and made a mental note of where you were up to before snapping the book closed. “Okay, I think we should call it. I’m starving.” You looked up at him from where your head was resting and watched as he closed the book without his hand leaving your hair.
“Sounds good to me, sweetheart. Since you chose the book, I’ll choose the restaurant. Sound good?” he asked, looking at you with that smile. 
“Sounds great, sweetheart,” you replied, playfully teasing him.
───────── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ─────────
After the success that was reading and dinner that night, the pair of you went on another date. And another. And another. The pair of you got to know each other like the backs of your hands and became unashamedly infatuated with one another. Harvey told you about his brother, Marcus, and you told him about yours. You mostly focussed on childhood stories about your whizz-kid brother with the photographic memory, but you occasionally did update Harvey on your brother’s relationship with his mentor. All positive, but you sometimes did joke that he sounded like he could be a bit of a dickhead. 
After about a month of consistently seeing each other, you discussed meeting the family. You were in his apartment with your head on his lap, the pair of you laying in his big comfy bed.
“Well, I only have Michael. Our parents passed when we were pretty young and my grandma passed almost a year ago. So you only have to deal with my brother and my best friend. Super easy,” you told him, idly tracing his skin with your index finger. 
“I have my brother and his family; he’s got a wife and kids. And then my mother but we don’t talk. So a similar situation for you. Brother and some friends. I’d say you can meet my associate and colleagues but they’d grill me rather than you. So would Marcus, actually.”
You giggled at his words but stopped as the seriousness of your relationship started to set in. Talking about meeting the family was a big step for you considering how little family you had. Letting someone into that trauma felt extremely vulnerable but just as quickly as you felt nervous, you felt calm. You were ready for this. You wanted this with Harvey. You decided to mess with him regardless.
“So… You think you’re ready to meet the family, hm? That’s a pretty big step,” you started, pretending to be deadly serious.
“Oh? Is it now? You don’t want to meet my family?” he asked, tone playful but you could tell there was an undertone of nervousness when he spoke.
“Well, I don’t think two people engaging in a casual fling have any business meeting each other’s families. Don’t you agree?” you continued to tease, though Harvey couldn’t tell you were only teasing.
“Is that what you think this is? A casual fling?” The hurt was starting to show in his voice and you smiled, not at his pain, but at the fact that clearly the pair of you were on the same page with how serious your relationship had become.
“Is that not what you think it is? Do we need to have the what are we conversation?” The teasing lilt to your voice was obvious this time, which immediately eased Harvey’s nerves and put him out of his misery. He smiled at you, smile lines popping and his eyes sparkling once again.
“No conversation necessary, baby. You’re my girl and I’m your man.” He tugged on the piece of your hair that was wrapped around his finger, causing you to smile.
“My man? Too old for the boyfriend title, hm? Old man,” you joked, poking him in the abdomen. 
“I’ll show you old man,” he replied, flipping you so that you were pinned to the mattress under him. The pair of you were a giggly, smiley mess, both excited to have established what you were to each other. Both true romantics at heart.
The next morning Harvey left you in his bed, heading to the office after kissing you goodbye. You watched him get dressed and style his hair, finishing his process by skillfully tying his tie. You watched his hands move the whole time, thinking about how they were all over you the previous night, and you sighed contentedly. Once he left, you flopped back onto his bed, hair fanning out across the pillows as you inhaled your boyfriend’s scent. 
You spent the next few hours reading, gratefully taking advantage of your day off. You made yourself an at-home coffee and easily moved around Harvey’s lavish apartment whenever you wanted a change of scenery, taking full advantage of the space. At around midday, you placed a lunch order to pick up from your and Harvey’s favourite café and got dressed, opting for a pretty white sundress. You left your hair down in its natural form and quickly left Harvey’s building, picked up lunch, and headed in to his office building.
On your way to Harvey’s office you, surprisingly, bumped into your brother. 
“Mike? What are you doing here?” you asked, not expecting to see him today.
“Obviously I’m lawyer-ing, Y/N. What else?” he replied. His sassy tone was an exact mirror image of how yours sometimes was with Harvey, and the fact that you were siblings became extremely obvious if someone focussed on your mannerisms.
“You mean fake lawyer-ing?” you teased, tone matching his perfectly.
“Ha ha. What are you doing here?” he asked, one eyebrow raised as he looked at you, taking in your appearance in his place of work and the bag in your hand.
“Obviously I’m bringing lunch to my boyfriend, Michael. What else?” you mocked playfully, wide smile on your face.
“Boyfriend? Here? Who’s your boyfriend?” he started to ask, but before he could grill you, you spotted Harvey walking towards you.
“Hey, Harvey,” you beamed, greeting him with a warm smile as he walked up to you.
He leaned down to give you a quick peck, completely ignoring Mike’s presence. “Hi, baby,” he mumbled, smiling back at you. He finally turned to look at Mike. “Mike, this is my girlfriend, Y/N. Sweetheart, this is my associate that I’ve been telling you about, Mike-”
“Mike Ross,” you interrupted, smiling as the realisation set in. Harvey’s associate was your brother. Your brother’s mentor was your boyfriend. You threw your head back laughing once you realised, shocked that nobody had put the pieces together sooner. “Harvey, meet my brother. Michael Ross.”
The shared look on both of their faces was priceless. They looked at you as if you’d sprouted another head, which only made you laugh more. Both of them joined in once they realised the situation, with Mike being the first one to break the circle of laughs in the middle of the office.
“So this is the hotshot lawyer you’ve been basically ignoring me for?” he asked you, gesturing towards Harvey. “And this is the barista slash bookworm you’ve been dumping all your work on me for?” he asked Harvey, gesturing towards you. 
You both nodded and agreed with a perfectly in-sync, “Yes.”
Harvey looked between you both in disbelief. “Wait a minute. Your last name isn’t Ross.” He was asking a question without actually asking, as he often did.
“Very good observation, Harvey,” you replied.
“Yeah, thank you, Captain Obvious,” Mike chimed in, causing you to smile. The two of you had always been a sarcastic duo, irritating a lot of your older relatives in your younger years.
“Oh my god,” Harvey mumbled, “There’s two of them. Exactly alike. How did I not realise?”
“To answer your unasked question,” you started pointedly, focussing on your boyfriend and suppressing your giggles, “I took my mother’s maiden name as soon as I was able to. Y/N Ross just sounds ugly, and this way, I get to honour her.”
Both Harvey and Mike visibly softened at your explanation. Harvey snapped out of it after a moment. “You’ve been talking shit about me to your pretty sister?” he asked Mike, punching him lightly on the shoulder.
“She was my sister before she was your girlfriend, man. That’s my right,” he replied, punching Harvey right back. “Speaking of, if you ever hurt her, I’ll-”
“What are you going to do? Fake lawyer him?” you jumped in at Harvey’s defence, keeping your voice quiet since you were still in a communal area.
“No, I was going to say I’d beat his ass.”
“Like you could. Have you seen his arms?”
“Okay, can you stop thirsting over my boss right in front of me? That’s disgusting.” Mike pretended to gag at your behaviour and you rolled your eyes in response.
“I can do so much worse, Michael,” you teased, pulling Harvey down by his tie to meet your mouth in a (relatively tame) kiss. Mike said nothing but walked away, muttering to himself about your ‘disgustingly inappropriate behaviour’. 
“Now that he’s finally gone,” you started after releasing Harvey from your hold and holding up the bag in your hand, “Lunch?”
‧˚₊•┈┈┈┈┈┈୨୧┈┈┈┈┈┈•‧₊˚⊹
oh my lord this was long. i wrote this in multiple sits. nonnie, i hope this was up to your standards. i hope i did your request justice. pls pls pls do give feedback. thank u so much for your request. there are more requests in my inbox which I'll be getting to in the coming days so send them in! for any suits characters, not just harvey! plus characters from other media! (warning, i know nothing about most things but if i can write for you, i will <3)
taglist: @shadowinthedarkknight @strawberriesareprettycool
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yan-lorkai · 2 months ago
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.⁠。⁠*⁠♡ A/N: I'm very normal about Idia, guys. Being his friend would be great, I just know. Yet he is an interesting character to me so at the same time he'd want you to spend all the time by his side, he also idolizes a version of you, smth smth I love him, enjoy this <3
.⁠。⁠*⁠♡ Warning: Yandere content, control and manipulation tendencies, guilt tripping, gn!reader
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.⁠。⁠*⁠♡ Idia becomes intensely possessive when he first make friends with you, something he’s not used to. His loyalty runs deep and he expects the same in return, often feeling jealous and anxious if you spends time with "the normies", as he likes to call them. He tries to monopolize your attention by filling your days with online games, late-night chats and gossip sessions and anime marathons, making it difficult for you to spend time with anyone else. He even try your blogs if it is something he can do inside his or your room.
.⁠。⁠*⁠♡ Sometimes he beg you to spend the day in his room, studying online as he does, when he is dealing with a particularly bad day - which are slowly turning into a daily thing.
.⁠。⁠*⁠♡ While Idia doesn’t confront people directly, he’s skilled at subtly manipulating you. If you mention hanging out with someone else, he’ll sulk or act overly dramatic, making you feel guilty for not spending time with him. He wants youto believe you’re the only one, besides Ortho and his family, who truly understands him, ensuring that you stay close. His tech expertise also gives him an advantage over you as he keeps tabs on your online activity, always aware of who you’re talking to or what you’re doing when you are away from him. And if you tell about how suffocating is to be with someone like him or something like that, Idia will make little changes in himself so you won't be bothered by how he acts.
.⁠。⁠*⁠♡ To further isolate you, Idia draws you deeper into his world, introducing rare games and niche interests that only he can share with you. If you try to make plans outside your usual routine, he’ll always have something special, a one time offer that you simply can't resist. Deep down, his tendencies come from a deep fear of rejection. He’s terrified of being abandoned and he believes the only way to secure your friendship is to make you depend on him as much as he depends on you. He wants to be your hero, strong, fierce, yet he turns into your villain, your tormentor.
.⁠。⁠*⁠♡ As the friendship deepens, Idia’s clinginess becomes more apparent, though he tries to hide it behind his usual awkwardness. He starts to get anxious whenever you doesn’t respond immediately to messages, bombarding you with worried texts or even calling, something he normally hates doing. When you finally reply, he plays it off but the relief he feels is palpable. He needs that constant reassurance that you’re still there, still close to him, that you still like him.
.⁠。⁠*⁠♡ Idia’s jealousy, though subtle, can become intense. If he notices you are growing closer to someone else, he starts planting doubts in your mind, making snide comments or pointing out flaws in the new person’s behavior. His aim is always to make sure you realizes that no one will ever be as loyal or understanding as he is. He never wants to be obvious about it but his bitterness leaks out in small doses, enough to make his friend second-guess their other relationships.
.⁠。⁠*⁠♡ When things don’t go as planned, Idia retreats into self-pity, making you feel responsible for his mood. He might withdraw entirely, going quiet for days at a time, only to return with cryptic messages about feeling “left behind” or how much he hates being alone. This emotional tug-of-war keeps you constantly on edge, never wanting to hurt him or push him away, which only feeds into Idia’s control over you. Wether you realize what he does or not, Idia will always find a way to have control over you, no matter what.
.⁠。⁠*⁠♡ Despite his fear of being too obvious, there are times when Idia’s obsession shows more openly. He might create custom in-game avatars of you, carefully crafting you to reflect his idealized version of a romantic relationship. He’ll obsessively collect items or trinkets that remind him of you, even going so far as to create private spaces in games or online where it’s just the two of them, away from anyone else or have an AI of your voice saying sweet little nothings to him, or singing. This, though, he'll never let you know. He doesn't want for you to think he is a weirdo, he just really love you, his bestie.
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spreadyovrwings · 3 months ago
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Honey, I Can Feel Your Pain
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A late night heart-to-heart before the end of the world. Or, two idiots try to talk about their feelings but they’re both demons and not very good at it.
Pairing: Alastor x Reader
Warnings: my writing/me trying to navigate a complicated character, i cringe therefore i am
A/N: literally just ignore me lol i wanted to see if i could write Alastor well so this is something of a personal challenge and a warm up for me (and i’m obsessed with him) so hopefully i’ve done him justice. there’ll be a part two if anyone wants one!
//
Chapter One
The door to Alastor’s studio was always locked to everyone but you. You weren’t sure how he did it. He was a complete technophobe, so a hidden camera was out of the question. Perhaps he’d cast some sort of spell or could sense you coming. You weren’t sure. All you knew was that if you needed to see him, and Alastor permitted it, his door was always open.
That night, the radio tower was dark and still, the only sound a slow, jazzy number sent oozing over the city and into people’s homes.
You found Alastor at his sound desk, one long finger poised idly on a bakelite dial, as if debating whether to alter the sound his tower produced. His ever-present smile was fixed in place but his lips were closed, his deep red eyes focused.
You tapped your foot against the floor, once, twice, three times, announcing your presence as gently as you could so as not to disturb him too abruptly. It didn’t matter that Alastor had to let you in in the first place, it always seemed impolite to come barging in.
He didn’t look up as you approached but you could tell you had his attention, and when you put your hand on the back of the chair next to his, a question, he answered with a short nod.
“Are you alright?”
Alastor barely moved, his eyes fixed on the glowing buttons and dials in front of him.
“Fine, fine.”
He spoke faintly, airily, with no hint of static, as if he were lost in thought. You couldn’t help feeling like you’d interrupted a private moment.
“It’s just you’ve been locked away in your room for days now.”
“Hard at work! Nothing more.”
As if to prove a point, Alastor wrapped his long fingers around the dial and adjusted the volume, then slid his fingers along the desk to conjure up the next song.
This tune was a lot more uptempo. It wasn’t like Alastor to be so sloppy, you must really have caught him off-guard.
Alastor seemed to realise his mistake too. He turned to you, leaning back in his chair, exuding a confidence and poise that many envied and few saw through.
“Is there something I can help you with, my dear?”
His attention was yours. Too late to go back now.
“You’ve been quiet ever since Charlie came back from Heaven.”
“Well, I-”
“And you don’t go quiet,” you pressed on, refusing to let him chart the course of your conversion. “So what’s wrong?”
The two halves of his face told two different stories. Alastor’s eyes were fiery and guarded, he didn’t like being questioned but you’d cornered him. Below, his smile stretched his skin. You wondered if it hurt.
“I’ve been reviewing the situation,” he said after a thoughtful pause, every word considered and weighed.
“You’ve missed dinner four nights in a row for that? I made all your favourites to try and entice you down, you know.”
Alastor hummed. He wasn’t listening.
“Do you know, for almost one hundred years, I have lived here quite happily. I’ve carved out a nice little niche for myself. And then the princess started getting bright ideas…”
Alastor’s long fingers danced over the faders again but he didn’t move any of them. It seemed to be the habit of a lifetime. Two lifetimes.
“The angels… Unsettled me. And you’re quite right, I don’t get unsettled. It required meditation.”
“The angels unnerved you?”
“Unsettled. But I suppose there’s not much point arguing over semantics. Either way, the result n’est pas bon, cher.”
“What did they say that unsettled you?”
One of Alastor’s ears flicked in irritation. It was a rare thing for him to give away even that much. It was a particular kind of personal hell, for him to have a body that could betray him so visibly. He could rattle everyone with his big grin, he could even hide pain behind walled eyes, but the attributes given to him, gifted to him, shackled to him, when he fell, weren't so easy to control.
“It’s not quite that simple, my dear. The angels are all bluster and hollow virtues. I care very little about what they have to say, the self-righteous...”
He took a breath.
“But then they halved the time till the next Extermination. It’s of little consequence to me. They’re clever enough to leave me alone most of the time and if any angels do try their luck, well, they’re quietly done away with. Plus, it’s just plain old good sport to watch the show.”
You smiled.
“Might have to disagree with you there, handsome.”
Alastor laughed humourlessly, a dry, sharp sound like a bow pulled roughly against violin strings.
“That’s just it, I might too. The issue is… Now it’s only a few weeks away…”
The song changed. Low, smooth, like sand through an hourglass, a single trumpet groaned into life, filling the room before disintegrating and travelling along the airwaves. Was it a distraction? Was Alastor struggling to hold his focus? Who knew? Maybe not even him.
“Alastor,” You leaned forward in your chair, undeterred by his hesitancy. “What’s wrong?”
His gaze slowly slid to you. The close-mouthed smile was back. It was the closest he ever came, or ever could come, to relaxing his expression completely.
“It usually doesn’t bother me,” Alastor murmured, his words barely audible over crackling static.
You frowned.
“But this time it did?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
Alastor’s nose wrinkled.
“Because before, I didn’t have you. It was easier. I’ve never relied on anyone or had anyone relying on me. Now there’s the hotel, its inhabitants…”
You remedied the sting with a vacant smile of your own.
“When you say ‘you’, you mean all our friends?”
Alastor shook his head.
“No. No, I was attempting to obfuscate.”
“Oh.”
Alastor stared at you. You stared back. Then, with a clang, the penny dropped.
“Oh!”
“Mm.”
“Oh, dear.”
“Quite.”
You smiled at his sour expression. Your own face was burning but you bravely ignored it.
Your relationship with Alastor had been a nebulous, vague sort of a thing. He was a terrifying colleague to have at the hotel, and at first, you couldn’t be sure why in Hell he was there. He liked to watch others struggle, suffer, and fail miserably, it was all just good entertainment for him. But that couldn’t be all there was behind his sudden interest.
As soon as you figured out that Alastor served himself and himself only, things became a lot clearer, and it was a lot easier to like him. You didn’t have to worry about trusting him, because you couldn’t. You didn’t have to question his motives, you knew they were ill-intentioned and that you were better off not knowing. He liked to pretend he was oh so mysterious, but Alastor was perhaps the most honest person in the hotel.
Mutual respect grew into friendship, into something more. You often went out with Alastor when he required assistance or just wanted some company, and you were always the first person he came to when he got home.
Slowly, incrementally, that trust bloomed. Alastor began to ask for your opinion. You would sit together in companionable silence, reading by the fire long into the night. He didn’t need to ensnare and trick and manipulate you, because you did things for him happily and without question, though within reason.
He was always honest with you, or at least, as honest as he could be without it endangering his own self-preservation. And you respected that. It was a harsh world, you had to look out for yourself, but slowly, so slowly that neither you nor your friends had noticed until it was too late, Alastor had bound his life to yours.
You hadn’t appreciated the depths of that connection. You’d always known you had a soft spot for him, ill-advised as it was, but never in all that remained of your afterlife could you have anticipated a requited affection.
Alastor interlocked his fingers and rested them in his lap, keeping his composure well considering the situation.
“It pains me to think of you in danger.”
You couldn’t help it, you laughed quietly.
“Steady now, Alastor. You sure know how to sweep someone off their feet.”
He’d never rolled his eyes at you, he was far too refined for that, but Alastor gave his equivalent, waving an airy hand at you and soldiering on.
“We have always been close, you and I. Right from the start.”
“That’s not how I remember it but…” You smiled. “I like to think of us as a little team.”
He brightened, his pained smile morphing into something a little more authentic.
“Exactly! A team! But what was once companionship and, admittedly, amusement-”
“Do you mean we have fun together or do you mean amusement at my expense?”
Alastor waved his hand again.
“A little of column A, a little of column B.”
“Wonderful.”
“What I mean to say is… My feelings have evolved somewhat.”
In all the time you’d spent with him, you’d never known Alastor to be so hesitant. In fact, you couldn’t remember a time when you’d seen him show any sign of apprehension. His stitched-on smile was still intact but his clawed fingers drummed against the sound desk and his gaze had been lost in safer ground, somewhere over your shoulder.
“Evolved into what?”
Though your heart was thudding in your ears, you didn’t hesitate to push him. You thought one of the reasons Alastor had grown to enjoy your company so much was that you liked to talk, as well as listen. He got bored so easily and he’d always been a chatterbox; you were one of the few people in his life who could match him in that without any sign of fear or an ulterior motive.
Alastor’s ear flicked again. This was a hard conversation for him.
“The Extermination meant nothing to me before. But now, the thought of it…”
You watched his eyes grow unfocused as his imagination consumed him. His fingers stopped drumming. The song on the radio rose by a few decibels.
“Alastor, it’s okay-”
“It frightens me. And it’s not about self-preservation this time. When I consider how our companions may fare…”
“They’ll be okay.”
“What if I can’t protect you?”
Sensing you might need to ease off, take a breath, anything, you leaned in closer, reaching out for him but never, ever touching him without asking first. Instead, you rested your hand beside his on the desk.
“I don’t need protection, Alastor.”
“Still, I want to keep you safe, my darling. There’s a… A sharp tug here…”
He pressed one clawed hand against his empty chest.
“And here…”
He dragged the same hand down to the pit of his lean stomach.
“When I think about you in any kind of danger.”
How did he always manage to be so charming, even when he didn’t mean to be?
You barely held back a pleased smile. Like Alastor’s, it tugged at the corners of your mouth, threatening to spill over into a stupid, happy grin.
He didn’t have the language for what he felt, that was fine. You and Alastor had always found a way to communicate, even without words. He’d told you more with one gesture than you ever could have expected him to say aloud.
But it wasn't just unexpected, it was completely astonishing. You couldn’t let him sense that though, it might make him retreat into himself. So instead, you turned it back around on him, letting Alastor choose how much he wanted to give away.
“What do you think that could be?”
“I have an idea. But I dread to think.”
Alastor’s eyes narrowed slightly, and you knew you were on the same page.
It would be difficult for him, far more than it had been for you, to pin down and explore and accept the feelings you had for each other. You hadn’t been able to figure out a better word for whatever it was that fizzled between you, though, like Alastor, you had a sneaking suspicion and it terrified you.
Nothing sounded right. Logically, you knew there were some words that ought to fit, but acknowledging them felt like wearing someone else’s shoes.
You couldn’t imagine how difficult it must be for Alastor to come to terms with it all. So it surprised you when he slid his hand over yours.
It wasn’t the first time you’d touched, he was always holding out his arm for you, patting the top of your head, often even lifting your hand to his lips when he greeted you in the mornings or bade you goodnight. But this wasn’t a fleeting brush of his hand against yours, this was sustained, purposeful contact, and it meant something, to both of you.
Alastor’s gaze still couldn’t meet yours, so he stared at your hands, his close-mouthed smile back in place.
“I’ve grown quite fond of you,” he said quietly, and it was just his voice you could hear, no static, no sound effects, just Alastor.
You smiled.
“I’ve grown quite fond of you too, handsome. I get the same feeling.”
“You do?”
“Yeah, all the time.”
“Oh, well, that’s reassuring, at least.” Alastor finally met your eyes, his head tilted quizzically to one side. “Have you told anyone?”
“What, and admit I’m in love with the Radio Demon? No thanks, I’d never live it down.”
Feedback shot through the room, a grating, warped sound, like someone had held a microphone too close to a speaker. It was hard to tell if the sound emanated from the mixing desk or from Alastor himself, but his scarlet eyes were wide.
His hand tightened over yours, though it was more likely out of surprise than him trying to give you comfort. The tips and edges of his sharp claws dug into your skin, not enough to hurt, but it still made your jaw clench.
Alastor, to his credit, didn’t seem as put off by the admission than you might’ve expected. Maybe he wasn’t surprised by the actual sentiment, just that you’d finally said the words out loud.
You smiled.
With just a week or so left until an Extermination that would surely kill you all, there wasn’t much room left in your damned soul for shyness. It wasn’t an all-out ‘if this is my last chance to say it’ confession. You and Alastor had always appreciated candour, and with so little time left, why not say what you were both thinking?
“Have you spoken about it with anyone?”
Alastor shrugged.
“Well, yes, I’m doing it now.”
“No, I meant someone you can trust. Someone you can talk about your feelings with.”
Alastor watched you blankly.
A second penny dropped.
“Oh.”
You had to resist the urge to shiver under his heavy stare.
“You couldn’t talk to Rosie?”
“I considered it but, bless her heart, my old friend can be a sentimentalist. No, best just to get to the source of the problem.”
“Alastor…”
You huffed, pretending to be insulted, and Alastor’s smile once again looked a little more real. It met his eyes, open, unguarded and calm.
“So, what would you like to do about it?”
“Hmm,” Alastor raised the hand that had covered yours to tap one long finger against his chin. “Any chance you’d let me lock you away in a secret, impenetrable bunker?”
Your smile grew.
“Sorry, honey.”
Alastor tutted.
“I thought as much.”
“Do you have one of those?”
“Hm?”
“A secret, impenetrable bunker.”
“That’s for me to know and you to find out, my dear. You’ll just have to be particularly careful. And perhaps this… Feeling will go away with time.”
You smiled, barely resisting the urge to roll your eyes.
“Perhaps it will.”
“When I’m right, I’m right, my darling.”
”That’s not the expression and you know it.”
//
Master List
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fanby-fckry · 7 months ago
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You know what, I’m just gonna say it. I think that Alastor being aroace is part of the reason he’s so shippable to me.
Before you come at me, check the flag in my pfp; I’m aroace-spec.
Maybe it’s me projecting, maybe it’s because I love exploring relationships through an aroace lens, but goddamn. I ship him more than any other character and every time I do, his aroaceness is a major component in the ship.
Examples below the cut because it’s gonna get long:
📻🍎 || RadioApple:
There are so many versions of this dynamic and I am here for all of them.
We have the pre-canon kinky QPR that I show in UH3. I could talk about that all day, but to summarize:
Aroace x genuinely respectful allo is a dynamic that heals my soul.
Lucifer is less tied down by human constructs like amatonormativity, having never been human himself.
The Devil values consent.
Kinky cannibalism, kinky cannibalism, kinky cannibalism, kinky ca- *I am removed from the stage with a comically large hook*
Then we have the Evil and fucked up QPR dynamic:
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And of course, trying to get along for Charlie’s sake and eventually bonding over their shared love of dad jokes and musical theatre, both being violinists (yup, Alastor plays violin too, check the wiki) with niche hobbies/interests (ducks, furby organ) and accidentally winding up in a loving, healthy QPR.
📻🕸️ || RadioDust:
There’s something about an aroace and a sex worker who very rarely falls in love.
Angel would know that Alastor isn’t with him for sex, would know that he values Angel beyond his body.
With greyro Alastor, Angel and Alastor would both be inexperienced with romance, but in wildly different ways. Angel has never had a healthy romantic relationship and therefor tries not to fall in love. Greyro Alastor has probably experienced romantic attraction like less than three times in his 100+ years of existence.
And if Alastor never gains romantic attraction for Angel, that’s a whole other level to the dynamic.
It’s got some great angst potential with Angel wondering if he’s not good enough to love romantically or Alastor feeling guilty or confused as to Why It Hasn’t Happened Yet when he cares for Angel so deeply, and eventually it gets resolved with the two of them accepting that their attractions don’t have to match up for them to love/appreciate/care for each other and they smash the amatonormative relationship hierarchy as queer platonic partners.
Or, Angel’s just totally cool with it from the start because he’s spent decades in the kink scene and has potentially been exposed to more relationship anarchy than Alastor.
Kink and queerness have a great deal of historical and cultural overlap, and that includes aroace queerness. Because Angel’s had way more canon exposure to both, it’s possible he knows more about Alastor’s orientation than Alastor does, and I love the idea of Angel introducing him to terms or just being super chill about not labeling things.
📻♥️ || RadioHusk:
Drawing like 90% from pilot dynamic and headcanon on this. They’re just two old men. They get drunk and cuddle. Alastor is one of the few people who knows Husk can purr and takes advantage of this fact. Alastor considers Husk a friend in a fucked up, possessive way. Husk considers Alastor a pain in the ass, but does care about him on some level.
It’s Fucked Up and Evil QPR: Remix Edition.
And the versions where the author puts them through fanfic couple’s therapy and actually gets them into a healthy point in their relationship? One where Alastor no longer owns Husk’s Soul? *chef’s kiss*
📻🌹 || RadioRose:
For me, personally, this is an exclusively nonsexual, non-romantic ship. They’re besties; they’re QPPs. They’re married for the tax benefits and so that they cannot be forced to testify against each other in court.
Rosie knew Alastor was aroace before he did and rather than sit down and explain it to him, she decided to make ace puns.
📻🖤 || RadioSiren: [edit, context here] RadioFemme
Ok, so this is entirely based on non-canon-compliant Lilith. Or, I guess, non-series-compliant Lilith. More of the old WOG stuff from the pilot era, with a healthy dose of headcanon for flavor.
I love the idea of Lilith and Lucifer having an open marriage; I love the UH3 style polycule dynamic.
Lilith being the original seductress and Alastor being aesthetically but not sexually or romantically attracted to her is very near and dear to my heart.
I’m an aroace with a voice kink who is aesthetically attracted to Lilith and I think Alastor is an aroace with a voice kink who would be aesthetically attracted to Lilith, ok?
📻📺 || RadioStatic:
I’m gonna be real with you, 90% of my interest in RadioStatic is in the one-sided version where Vox is a pathetic little incel simp and Alastor is either oblivious, mildly annoyed, or finds the whole thing hilarious.
Whenever there’s any reciprocation on Alastor’s part, I always imagine it being in a very aroace, very Alastor-esque way. He needs to be get something out of it completely unrelated to sex/romance. And he needs to be manipulative and sadistic in the process.
Whether that something is kink-related, a business transaction, or simply the quality entertainment provided by Vox being a cringefail TV-headed little bitch, I love to see it.
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jemiswumbo · 6 months ago
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I’d be fine (if I never saw you again)
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luke castellan x unclaimed!reader
anon prompt: luke castellan and reader who are exes and see each other in the labyrinth. luke is aware of his fate (turning into chronos and eventually die) and reader can't change it. they have one last moment together. she later sees him turning into chronos (cause we love angst and heartbreak)
a/n: it’s been. roughly. 7 years since I wrote actual fanfic. pls be nice <3 I diverged a bit from canon events but it’s not important to the story. hope you enjoy :)
title from “i’d be fine (if i never saw you again) by all time low! the lyrics are very fitting lol
tags/warnings: blood mention, angst, use of y/n, probably like rated T.
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i.
You would be lying if you said you weren’t confused.
Annabeth Chase had finally had a quest bestowed upon her — she was tasked with braving the maze of the Labyrinth in order to locate Daedalus. She could take anyone in camp as her questmates. Percy Jackson was the obvious choice, as they had already been on a couple adventures together.
You, really, should’ve been dead last in her list of options.
To start, you had no special powers. You were a regular camper, unclaimed for years now. Despite various training exercises and endless amounts of camp activities, you still really hadn’t found your niche. The only thing you were somewhat decent at was fighting with a sword, but that was mostly because you had been trained by the best of the best. You sparred with him relentlessly over the years until you were of equal combat skill. It was special treatment, obviously, for him to train you with such vigour and fixation. He was your boyfriend after all.
Was.
Luke Castellan had taken a liking to you when you first rolled up to Camp Half-Blood; you reached the camp by a miracle, almost becoming monster food on your way in. You were a tired, bloody, sweaty 13 year old in dire need of training and a nap. He told you once, years later, that when he had first laid eyes on you, he thought of you as the most beautiful warrior he’d ever seen.
With his little crush in tow, he welcomed you to Hermes cabin as you were unclaimed. He personally showed you around camp, he sat next to you for all meals, and he helped you out with daily activities. It didn’t take long for you to begin admiring him back.
It was weeks later during a game of Capture the Flag when you two finally made it official. It had been a rare occasion of the game taking place at night. You had taken the initiative, pulling Luke behind a tree and kissing him under the moonlight. Since then, you’d been inseparable.
When Kronos started invading Luke’s dreams, he became distant.
To everyone else he seemed the same — training campers, smiling wide, basking in moments of glory. To you, he was a hollow version of himself. His frequent nightmares had him waking up in terror and chills. You coaxed him back to relaxation each and every night. You would press soft kisses to his curly hair, whispering phrases of adoration. He would tell you he loves you. You would say it back. But deep down you were choking on stress and fear and worry and bundles of negative emotions threatening to spill out of your raw, bitten lips. You cried more those nights than you did after he left.
After he betrayed the camp. After almost killing Percy Jackson. After giving you one last pleading look, begging you with his warm brown eyes to follow him and join him and be with him in his conquest of glory. You had told him you loved him. You had turned and ran away in the opposite direction.
You hadn’t seen him since.
It was almost 3 years since that fateful night. You had dreams and nightmares centering around your past relationship. You missed Luke, your Luke, but knew he was too far gone for saving. You walked around camp each day with a hole in your chest where your heart should’ve been. It was a filthy, gaping wound infected with regret. You were a apathetic and alone.
You were, without a doubt, not an ideal questmate.
So… why did Annabeth choose you?
ii.
The labyrinth was musty, damp, hot and downright uncomfortable. You had been in and out numerous times over the duration of the quest; every exit was like a gasp of relief, and every entry was a fearful plunge into the unknown. The maze of tunnels and odd rooms had you perpetually on the edge, anxiety causing your eyes to see things that weren’t actually there, and your ears to pick up on sounds otherwise ignored.
You tried to stay as close to Percy and Annabeth as possible, but you did occasionally give them space to talk. They were best friends (and clearly in love) and you were the odd third wheel in this situation. You were getting closer to them over the duration of the quest, friendship wise, but you still prioritized their relationship.
So, when a voice clearly called out your name in a hushed whisper, it made sense that only you had heard it. Percy and Annabeth were too far ahead of you to hear, immersed in their own private conversation.
The voice whispered, “Y/n.”
A chill flushed over your spine. You unsheathed your sword and spun on your heel, desperate to make out the source of the voice. You couldn’t have been hallucinating. The voice was sharp, articulate, and clear as day in the quiet tunnel.
There was no one behind you.
You turned back to where Percy and Annabeth should’ve been ahead of you. Instead, there was a person standing there, a person all too familiar to you.
You dropped your sword, letting it clatter against the tunnel floor.
His warm brown eyes met yours, and you let out a gasp of unbridled shock. Nausea churned in your stomach. It was him.
Luke Castellan was standing in front of you.
“You…” Your voice wavered off, too many emotions clogging your throat to produce a coherent thought.
You knew he’d be in the labyrinth. You’d psyched yourself up in preparation of facing him. But.. you thought you would’ve been facing him in the presence of your friends, not alone. Alone was worse. Being alone with Luke opened the floodgates to all the memories you had previously shut away.
Your first kiss in the woods. Cuddling in the Hermes’ cabin, much to the other campers dismay. Sparring and his cocky grin he flashed with every victory. When he returned from his failed quest with an ugly gash over his eye, and you helped nurse him back to health. The night he first said he loved you, under the light of the moon with your bare bodies intertwined on shores of the beach.
Nausea. Anxiety. Guilt. Fear —
Love.
Sadness. Regret. Anger —
Love.
Love.
He looked vastly different from how he did the moment he fled camp, the last time you had seen him. His skin was paler, his body leaner. His curly dark hair had grown longer. His eyes were sullen and sad. His normal camp clothes were covered with armour.
“Luke…” Tears threatened to spill from your eyes. “Oh, gods, Luke.. what are you doing?”
“Hey, there.” He said softly, giving you a small smirk as he stepped forward. “I’ve missed you.”
“You haven’t.” Your bottom lip wobbled. “Liar. You don’t care about me, so don’t lie and pretend like you do..”
“Y/n, I never stopped caring.” Luke reached his hand out to cup your cheek, using his thumb to stroke away one of your tears. The touch felt so familiar, yet so foreign. He felt like a ghost come back to life. “I’ve missed you every single day since I left. When I found out you’d be in the labyrinth, I made sure I’d do everything I could to find you.”
“I don’t understand,” you let out a sob, frozen in place, debating running away and forfeiting the stupid quest all together. “This doesn’t make any sense.”
Luke leaned down and pressed a kiss to the top of your head. It was gentle, and soft, and sweet, and so contradictory to every aspect of his behaviour the past 3 years. You should’ve hated him. Your instincts should’ve made you pick up your sword and stab him in his side and let him bleed out without remorse.
You didn’t, though. You couldn’t. Because deep down you still loved him. And part of you, a really small fragile part, had the audacity to believe he still loved you, too.
You squeezed your eyes shut and cried and let him press another kiss to your forehead, and another to your cheek, his hand trailing lower to rest gently at the base of your throat. You swallowed hard and met his eyes again, finding them to be clouded with a layer of guilt. Your heart lifted.
“I need you to know that I love you,” Luke said, voice hushed in a whisper. “This may be the last time I ever see you. I want to give you one last chance.”
You whimpered. “One last chance to do what?”
“Join me.” He said, eyes darting between yours. “Or let this be goodbye, forever.”
He pressed his lips to yours.
You gasped into the kiss, your hands reaching up to encircle his neck and grab his curls. He pulled your body flush against his, lifting your leg and holding your head. He kissed you like he was starving and you were the first thing he’d tasted in eons.
The kiss quickly became rough, teeth clashing and your fingers gripping his hair a little too tight. He growled low in his throat and pushed your back to the cavern wall. You didn’t give a damn that the wall was slick and slimy. All you felt was him. All you wanted was him.
Your lips were bruised and aching when he pulled away for air. The echos of your shaky breaths engulfed the chamber you stood in. Your heart was pounding in your chest, so hard you feared it was going to give out.
He kissed you again. You made the move to remove your camp shirt, letting it fall to the ground beside your discarded sword. Luke latched his mouth to the skin above your bra, sucking and kissing until bright red marks formed.
Luke unhooked his Celestial bronze breast plate and dropped it. As he leaned back in for another heated kiss, a voice called out —
“Now!”
You turned and saw Annabeth and Percy charging you, weapons drawn and ready to fight. Luke unsheathed his own blade in a flash, just in time to defend himself from their attacks.
The three demigods fought in the narrow corridor, dodging and striking in rapid succession. You couldn’t bring yourself to participate or to watch. You crumpled to the floor in your own personal defeat. Everything finally clicked into place.
At some point, the fight had ended with Luke managing a quick evasion down some secret pathway and successfully evading Percy and Annabeth’s hunt.
Once again, Luke Castellan was gone from your life. All you could manage to do was stare at the wall, knees pulled close to your chest, feeling a sensational numbness engulf you.
Annabeth returned and knelt beside you. She placed a comforting hand to your knee, as Percy stood behind her with a deep sadness in his eyes. “Are you okay?” She asked, voice laced with concern.
“You brought me on this quest as bait,” you said, your own voice hoarse from crying. “You knew Luke would find me. You knew you’d get a chance to strike if we were alone.”
“…That is true,” Annabeth admitted sheepishly. “I realize now that it would’ve been nice to tell you about that beforehand. But that’s not the only reason why I chose you.”
You scoffed. “Really? Of all the people at camp? I’m not special. I’m broken.”
“Y/n, you’re an incredible swordsman.” Annabeth chided. “You’re the only one who’s ever beat Luke in a fight.”
“And you’re fun to talk to,” Percy added. “You’ve helped keep us sane in this stupid maze.”
“We seriously could not have gotten this far without you,” Annabeth said with a small smile. “Again, I’m sorry for not telling you about the.. ‘bait’ plan. I thought you would turn down my quest invitation if you knew beforehand.”
“I definitely would have, you’re right.” You said with a sigh, wiping a stray tear that was gliding down your cheek. Momentarily, your heart clenched as you were reminded of Luke’s hand on your cheek, wiping your tears away only minutes prior. You pushed the feeling aside. “Sorry, Annie.”
“I’m the one that’s sorry here.” The other girl said. “Now, I understand if you’d like to go back to camp after that. But I’d really, really prefer if you finished this quest with us.
Annabeth stood up, holding out her hand to you.
You bit your lip. Going back to camp and curling up in a ball on your bed sounded really nice at that moment. But… you didn’t want to leave these kids to finish this task alone. You needed to help them see it through to the end.
You took Annabeth’s hand and rose to your feet.
iii.
The next time you see Luke, he’s laying in a golden sarcophagus, seemingly asleep.
Your breath catches in your throat at the sight of him, a husk of his old appearance. You lean forward to brush a stray curl off of his forehead and are overcome with a wave of sadness. He barely stirs in his sleep. Part of you wishes he’d wake up so you could see his warm brown eyes one last time.
As if he had somehow heard your thoughts, Luke awoke from his slumber.
His hand grips your wrist, halting your movements of fixing his hair. His eyes shoot open and you gasp.
This isn’t Luke.
His pupils are shockingly bright and golden, an evil aura radiating from his body.
This isn’t Luke.
This is Kronos.
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mixelation · 2 months ago
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wait here's something weird and kind of niche i wrote a while ago
sakura's POV, meant to be a build up to itasaku but barely contains a hint of itachi
From Sakura’s point of view, it goes like this. 
She takes a call from the Office of Public Health, which is located in the Fire Country capital and is a civilian institution. They theoretically have no power over anything Konoha does, but occasionally Sakura has to field angry calls about Konoha shinobi spreading diseases long distance, or putting things in public wells, or that one time some idiot chunin squad caused a landside that wiped out a major delivery of medicines to a rural province. 
“Konoha Hospital, Haruno speaking,” Sakura says, plastering a fake smile across her face even alone in her office. 
“Ah, yes, is this the…” The voice on the other end pauses, and Sakura hears the shuffling of papers. “Lead Medical Jounin?”
The woman says this like she can’t believe it’s a real title. But as of two months ago, it’s Sakura official, very important, and extremely high ranking title. It’s come with more annoying phone calls than she anticipated. 
“That’s me,” Sakura tells her. “To whom do I have the pleasure of speaking?”
The woman on the other side is head of Fire Country’s tuberculosis response team. She’s calling because of several very worrisome cases of TB across the Western provinces. 
“Multi-drug resistance is common in Water Country,” Sakura replies airily. She would rather people not be getting MDR-TB in general, but also, this is not her job unless this lady is about to tell her they tracked it to Konoha shinobi. 
Just to be sure, Sakura continues, “As you should know, Konoha includes an annual TB screen for all active shinobi, and a full course of antibiotics for any infected shinobi. Is this, perhaps, a courtesy call that we should be on the lookout for resistant strains?”
“It’s not coming from Water Country,” the woman tells her hotly. “We don’t know where it’s coming from. Contact-tracing hasn’t worked. These towns aren’t even on normal trade routes.”
Sakura’s cheeks are starting to hurt as her fake smile broadens. “Ah, well, if you require Konoha’s assistance, the more appropriate office is Mission Requests–”
“No traceable contacts paired with no obvious source,” the woman interrupts, “is almost always shinobi, Haruno-san.”
Sakura purses her lips, smile failing her. She just said they made sure anyone catching TB on the job was screened for and treated. She knows years ago that Tsunade had to handle some fiasco where a select few Konoha-nin were spreading an STI all over the place, but this situation is different. 
“What exactly do you want?” Sakura asks, voice hardening. 
“We’re auditing you,” the woman says. “I have an order signed by the Daimyo.”
Fuck, Sakura thinks. 
Sakura attempts to dump the audit on Tsunade. Tsunade laughs in her face. Sakura does manage to get approval for funding more overtime for medical ninja and staff to deal with it; Tsunade rarely argues against dumping money into the hospital or Medical Corps. 
Several thousand TB tests later, and many hours of Sakura organizing and photocopying records to prove they really were screening everyone, and she is royally pissed. Also, tired and probably malnourished from resorting to cup ramen for dinner too many nights. The audit is time consuming, and it doesn’t excuse her dealing with numerous other crises the hospital has just by virtue of being a hospital, on top of all her usual duties. 
Ms. TB Response Team deigns to make the trip down to Konoha to go through their audit. She looks exactly how Sakura imagined her on the phone: chin-length graying hair gelled into place, thick-rimmed glasses, a lab coat over a blouse and pencil skirt. It takes her and two other team members three days to go through the documents Sakura offers, and then another day to tour the labs to make sure they’re adequate. 
Ms. TB Response Team seems disappointed when they find nothing. Sakura doesn’t not want to harm a civilian woman just for doing her job, as annoying as it is. But she does sort of want to throw her desk through a window and yell I TOLD YOU SO. 
“This is good news,” Ms. TB Response Team says eventually, seated across from Sakura’s desk, “although inconvenient.”
Inconvenient? Sakura wonders, struggling to keep her smile in place. Yes, from the capital’s perspective, it would be a really convenient explanation if it were just Konoha ninja spreading TB around. They’d have their source and then also the ability to demand Konoha do something about it. 
But also: Tsunade’s Konoha doesn’t do this shit. Not with something as easily detectable as TB. 
“I’m glad we could assist in your investigation,” Sakura replies, surprising herself at how smooth her voice sounds. “Will that be all?”
“Mm, no,” Ms. TB Response Team responds, pushing up her glasses on her nose. “Perhaps the parameters of the audit were unclear. We’d also like to see your records on missing-nin movement.”
Shit, Sakura thinks. 
This one she really does get to dump on Tsunade. She’s positive of it as she opens the office door and gestures Ms. TB Response Team inside. 
Usually a small group like a disease response team wouldn’t be able to convince Konoha to share highly classified information like this. Another Kage probably wouldn’t let them at it, end of story. But Tsunde is a doctor first and Hokage second. She looks at the reports on MDR-TB, leans back in her chair, groans, and mashes the palms of her hands into her eyes. 
Multi-drug resistance means the bacteria do not respond to two or more of the available anti-TB drugs. This makes them difficult to treat, and untreated TB has a high mortality. They can’t let this spread. 
“Fine,” Tsunade eventually says. Ms. TB Response Team perks up. “No, I’m not letting you at our records. But I’ll let you have Sakura.”
Sakura immediately tenses, and the floorboard cracks underneath her as she shifts her position.
“Shishou,” she starts. 
“Sakura can go through the documentation and report back relevant findings,” Tsunade continues. “I assure you she’s highly competent.”
“Shishou,” Sakura repeats. “I have other important duties. Surely another shinobi is more suited to–”
She just got this position, and four out of the six months she’s been doing it have been this stupid audit. She doesn’t even have her feet under herself properly.
Tsunade eyes her levelly. “Learn to delegate,” she says. 
Several more floorboards crack when Sakura stomps out of her office ten minutes later.
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caparrucia · 1 year ago
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There's a very Tumblr-specific grift that I find both fascinating and utterly frustrating in how recurrent it is.
Because Tumblr is a casual social media site, this is rarely the site where professionals and organizations host a public presence. Tumblr isn't Twitter. You pick up a username and use it as a pseudonym and all anyone knows about you is what you say about yourself. To connect someone's personal Tumblr with their wallet name is doxxing and evil.
So you end up with people who are passionate and knowledgeable about a vast array of subjects, but there's not really a structure of credibility behind it. Which is really cool and awesome and allows people to express themselves and keep a private space where they can be themselves without much consequence... but it also opens the ground for this particular flavor of griefter: The Enlightened One.
The Enlightened One is just knowledgeable enough about an obscure or complex subject that a simple Wikipedia search will not debunk them, but fundamentally wrong in ways that people actually knowledgeable on the subject froth at the mouth about, because they're not straightforward or easy to debunk. To explain what's wrong with their shit, you'd need to give a full course on your specialty, which requires time and effort most people don't want to spend in their fun, casual space because it amounts essentially to doing work.
And that frothing rage and frustration is very easily mischaracterized as "jealousy" or "hate" and used to uplift The Enlightened One into a pedestal of prosecution.
See, most of the time The Enlightened One is just a clueless dipshit making themselves seem important on the internet, and while they're incredibly frustrating for the people who actually know what they're talking about, they're easy to ignore. But the worst kind, are the kind that are actively spreading misinformation and often starting panic waves, when their niche of interest turns out to be... you know, a bit more sensitive than say period clothing or ancient poetry.
There's nothing wrong with learning from people who are happy to share their knowledge, even in a casual setting like Tumblr. There's also nothing wrong with people asking for compensation when that sharing of knowledge has become a structured, time consuming effort and it's essentially a curated resorce.
But the moment you meet someone who encourages you to run all your decisions by them? Who wants you to treat their inbox like the google search box? Who answers questions without providing any sources, or all their sources link back to their own posts/content? When you meet someone who insists you can stop thinking and let THEM do the thinking for you?
Run The Fuck Away.
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ronearoundblindly · 3 months ago
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Ro! I’ve been on a mint chocolate chip ice cream kick lately, and it makes me wish I could share a pint with a babe (that’s also probably very much the pre period hormones, but anywayyy) which ice cream flavor do you think you would associate with each of the babes? Their favorite flavor and/or personality trait-wise.
Mint chip is my favorite, too! \o/ I don't get to eat ice cream much, but this was interesting to think about. I will try not to project onto the babes, though, only their pure likes maybe...
Oh snap! I can use the banner again!!! (All characters I've ever written for below.)
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James Mace - Neapolitan
When this guy indulges (very rarely), he can't decide on just one flavor, so the easiest thing to do is get multiples. If he can go to a shop where you order by the scoop, he'll ask whoever is behind the counter what the popular or new or their faves are and try three of those. Mace, I believe, can pack away some ice cream.
Curtis Everett - Birthday Cake or Cotton Candy
The sickliest sweet things are a delight to Curtis. He's never gotten over how bland and boring and miserable the food of his childhood was. He goes nuts for sugar overload, but in intensity of taste, not in volume.
Jimmy Dobyne - Peach
Fruity, refreshing, creamy, and just screaming to add a dirty joke onto the end of it, Jimmy will use any excuse to sneak a double-entendre into polite conversation with a pretty lady. "Your peaches taste the sweetest..." Yeah, dessert is more about flirting than it is about eating. Ice cream is nice in the heat, however, so it's a great date option.
Johnny Storm - Cookies & Cream
With extra cookie crumbles and caramel sauce on top, he'll demand. Sprinkles, too, if you have it. Maybe some gummy worms or cereal. At least, like, five cherries. Oh! Also preferred that it be hard frozen when he starts eating so that it's not soup halfway through his rapid eating of it. The sensation of eating ice cream gets lost when he can barely tell it's cold.
Jake Jensen - Black Raspberry Chocolate Chip
This flavor has everything (and yeah, ok, I am projecting a bit on this one, whatever). Jake likes a whole lot of flavors and textures; he's actually not picky at all. He does enjoy ~the hunt~ for this rarer find in all his travels because raspberry is a popular flavor--it's often a sorbet though--but it's not the most popular of the berry options. He also will try all of the crazy niche flavors at hole-in-the-wall places. Conversely, it is easier to work while not holding a bowl or cone, so Jake loves a good milkshake or malt. Those he can sucked down like air.
Lloyd Hansen - Mint Chocolate Chip
My theory is this man is obsessed with fresh: fresh food, fresh sheets, fresh intel, fresh meat. Bet you his lip balm is always, only mint, too. Very classic. Very pristine. Fresh. Sweetness with a purpose.
Ari Levinson - Butter Pecan
Fine, I'm projecting again, idec, but you can't tell me Ari isn't this kind of old soul who loves not-overly-sugary treats! You cannot change my mind. That guy loves the crunch of candied pecans in there, he freaking lives for that rounded slightly-savory sweet cream flavor, and he loves that it's widely available but never sold out anywhere. Easy!
Ransom Drysdale - Coffee
And it's weirdly been that way since he was too young of a kid to drink coffee? Turns out, this was the flavor his father got but told Ransom he wasn't old enough for, he wouldn't like it. Of course, Ran immediately ordered two scoops of it in a chocolate dipped sprinkle cone, and while he may not have been totally keen on it in that exact moment, coffee-flavor grew on him. He loves it as much as he loves all of the other behaviors that say "f*** you" to his parents.
Steve Rogers - Rocky Road
Created during the Great Depression, this ice cream was shared between Steve and his Ma quite a few nights when he was too sickly to go out but needed a pick-me-up. Bucky enjoyed it with him, too, but it's not his favorite. Steve tends to really enjoy eating only when there's nostalgia attached to the food.
Bucky Barnes - Chocolate Chip Peanut Butter
Rich, velvety, and made slightly different by each company. Sometimes Bucky wants ribbons of fudge and the tiny pb cups mixed in; sometimes he wants full-blown chocolate ice cream with peanut butter swirled in. Can't go wrong. Only good, heavy, decadent happiness vibes.
I am...stunned at how confident I feel in these choices HA!
Thank you for asking!
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evelmiina · 3 months ago
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I'm going to be asking a lot of artists I follow this question, but how did you develop your style? It SEEMS like most people find their style and stick with it forever, just making improvements and iterations. I tend to work in a lot of different styles because I enjoy doing that, though I know there are things I gravitate towards as well. But I wonder what your journey was and how you got feedback and improved while staying true to what you enjoyed?
Hi, thank you for asking. Sorry I cannot answer shortly it is kinda big subject
My style is just tons of little and big things that add up at some point in a way that simply makes sense to me. It is kind of like a personal sandbox or garden I've built and I can see what I can do there, what to add or remove and what to improve on. In my personal work I rarely ask outsiders for feedback but I am lucky to have partner and friends who I trust give me well constructed comments. Less on the style side and more like "that arm is wonky, here's how to fix it". I've never really had problem of being too swayed or persuaded by someone else's opinion on style or visuals and in fact I used to be a bit bad at taking criticism. I'm really thankful to having received kindness and patience even when I'd get sulky and dramatic. I really started to improve faster when I started to respect fundamental drawing skills, and it didn't take anything away from "me" or "my style". On the contrary. It's not always enjoyable to do art. With any work there are parts that are just processes and execution and after the kind of honeymoon period of simply loving creating, or being energized by new project fades, it becomes more about being able to appreciate parts of it and accepting sometimes it's not very fun I think an artist can have multiple "aha" style moments in their life, where they feel like everything clicks and they want to stay in that sandbox for some time. Internet makes it seem like in order to be good/successful artist one has to be a brand and only do this one thing, but it's not the full picture. I follow many artists who seem content in making just one specific niche, but I don't know what other artistic pursuits they have outside internet. I don't know if that style is their heart and soul, or just something that pays the bills. I post variety of things and I'm aware some have much wider appeal and some feel more interesting only to myself. I still try to pursue what feels most honest to myself and it is sometimes scary not knowing where it goes, feeling like I should stay safe and only focus on the successful thing. But I want to incorporate new things and see what comes out.
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