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I'm not afraid of looking stupid.
I wish I was stupid.
Stupid people get everything they want. Because there are a million of them and they are just like everyone else and the only thing they know how to do is viciously attack anyone that's not them.
I'm afraid of doing the same thing over and over and no matter what I do, no matter how hard I try to improve or do something better or make my life easier and more comfortable and fun and filled with fewer assholes, that will never be allowed.
I'm afraid of depending on others because even though other people all form big angry mobs and wreck everything that's not them and that's how society works, other people always ask more than I can give and shame me and fuck me over. The system is set up so that people who have a big group beat everything use and are constantly trying to fight you. But it's also set up so that I personally cannot seem to find a group I belong to without being just as miserable in a group as I am without a group for more than a very short while.
I am afraid that no matter what I do I will never be allowed to have a stable, peaceful normal life.
I don't care that I don't know everything but no matter what I do, no matter how much I read or research or experience or try or think or reason or work to build the life I want, it never works. I always end up right back at rock bottom, everything is ruined, I have no money and constant stress and stress triggers, everyone who I thought I could trust betrayed me or hurt me or ghosted me. I don't have anything to show for anything I did.
I'm afraid that there is no way out of that pattern.
That no matter what I do, I'll just have to keep almost getting the baseline level of having my shit together that everyone else in the world has at like 25, and I'm not saying I want to be perfect and I'm not saying I want some kind of untold treasure, I'm just saying I want what everyone I knew when I was 23 had at 25. I am willing to work for it but I want to be treated fairly like everyone else. I want to have a life.
Everyone else is allowed to do things that make them feel safe and happy and have their little quirks and have friends and have hobbies and eat food and have flaws and vices that are kind of harmless and every time I do those things it turns into some kind of reason for someone to punish me.
No matter what I do, someone comes along and drives me out.
I'm not afraid of looking stupid.
Because everyone has thought I was stupid my whole life even when I was right. Everyone knows I am stupid and crazy and fat and ugly and the only things that are good about me are my wardrobe and the fact that I do silly little picturesque poses and shit. The only people who are ever nice to me are men who plan on fucking me over later. Every other person intentionally gives me shitty advice, yells at me, tells me what they want and then punishes me for doing what they want, then punishes me for doing stuff that's not against any rules. I am greedy, ungrateful, stupid, disgusting and the only thing anyone wants from me is to constantly set them up to get praise and attention or to have sex with them. And they don't actually want the sex, they just want the ego boost from seeing me orgasm really hard. I do want to orgasm really hard because I genuinely enjoy it, but that also means I am not ever going to be allowed to have anything I want because the more you pretend to hate whatever you enjoy the most the more other people will give it to you, and I'm not willing to do that.
I am not afraid of looking stupid. I am afraid of being burned at the stake. I am afraid of being thrown into a mental institution and never allowed to leave. I am afraid of someone making me hurt someone else. I am afraid of being forced into hurting people because it's happened before. I'm afraid because I like hurting people because it's not fair that everyone else gets to be happy and safe and loved for free. I am afraid of being racist because my family taught me to say and parrot back stuff I didn't know was dogwhistles for a long time. I am afraid of hurting other people who don't deserve it like I was hurt.
There. There are all my fears.
Now fuck off and die.
your fear of looking stupid is holding you back
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Ida is @marune2's oc.
..........
Nacht: (walks into the bedroom with a smug grin on his face) I've figured it out. Josele: Figured what out? Nacht: How to put an end to Ida's coffee addiction! Josele: Right... Next thing you'll tell me is that you've solved for pi. Nacht: I'm serious. It's a simple plan really. We just need to make coffee taste so terrible that Ida will never want to drink it again. Josele: And how do you plan on doing that? ... The next day Finral: Here's your morning cup. Ida: (takes the mug) Thanks. (sniffs it coffee) That's... This is the usual blend, right? Finral: Uh, no. Nacht had the coffee brewed by the time I got to the kitchen. Ida: (raises an eyebrow) Funny, he usually leaves it to you or Josy. Finral: He said he was trying out a new coffee blend. Ida: I see... (sips coffee) Oogh. (grimaces) Hmm. (sips again) The fuck? (keeps sipping) He extracted the coffee waaaaay too long! But... (keeps drinking) Not so bad the more I drink it. Finral: (takes a sip of his coffee and immediately spits it out) AAAAHHHH! IT'S HORRIBLE! Josele and Nacht: (watch from afar) Josele: What did you do to the coffee? Nacht: I added Bitrex to it. Josele: Isn’t that what’s used in antifreeze and shampoo so people don’t eat them? Nacht: Yes, exactly! Josele: ... She’s still drinking the coffee! Nacht: Oh shit! (runs over) IDA STOOOOP!
#black clover#black clover incorrect quote#nacht faust#finral roulacase#black clover oc#josele canty#soda's ocs#ida faust#marune's oc#this is the result of#me watching too many videos wherein#people intentionally make food disgusting#love the taste of bitrex on my Nintendo switch cartridges#Ida really something else#it’s the devil biology that Ida has
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“You ready, Lou?”
“Duh.”
“Cecil? You’ve got full faith in your cabin?”
“Yep.”
“What about you, Will? Were your threats successful?”
“My bribes went wonderfully, thank you.”
“Then I think we’re a go.”
“Gods, this is going to be great.”
———
Knockknockknock.
Nico locks in on his game. He is so, so close to finally making it through this stupid quest, he can feel it, and if he doesn’t beat The Imprisoned before Percy he’s going to set the camp on fire.
Knockknockknock.
“Just — hold on a second!” He spams B, cursing loudly to himself, ignoring the twinge in his lower back from holding this position for so long. “Fuck, fuck, come on.” He clenches his teeth, knuckles white against the Wii remote, until finally — the boss falls. He cheers.
Fuck yes. Take that, Percy.
Tossing the remote on his bed, he jogs over to the door, sliding open the three bolts and unlocking the chains. On his porch is a blur of movement, hair frizzy and pulled-on, shirt rumbled.
“Oh, hey, Annabeth.”
She barely acknowledges him, focusing intently on pacing back and forth on the stone porch at the speed of light. He settles against the door frame, stretching out his spine, watching her mutter to herself.
“Chiron is leaving,” she says.
Nico raises an amused eyebrow. “I am aware.”
“With Mr. D. To some conference.”
“I heard.”
“He’s gone until early tomorrow evening.”
“Uh-huh.”
“He left me in charge.”
“Probably wise.”
“I need an allegiance, Nico.”
“Slow down and tell me what you mean, first.”
She sighs, coming to a stop in front of him. Her fingers still drum across her biceps, and her eyes dart around, evaluating. Her teeth dig into her bottom lip.
“Camp’s a lot of work,” she says finally. “I’ve never been in charge of so many people at once before, and like hell am I gonna let Chiron think I can’t handle it. I have a Plan, and you’re a part of it.”
Nico resists the urge to groan. Chiron leaving is supposed to mean he gets the next day or so off — no classes, no socializing, nothing. Just him in his cabin and the genuinely disgusting amount of junk food he has amassed.
(…And Will. Maybe.)
“It’s nothing crazy,” she promises. “I just need you to lurk.”
“…Lurk?”
“Yeah, you know. Chill in the shadows and scare people into complacency. You don’t even need to do much, just that thing where you stare at people like you know the exact day they’re going to die.”
“I do love lurking,” Nico admits. And to basically have a free pass to scare the shit out of whoever he wants… “I’ll do it.”
She smiles brightly. “Thanks, Nico! I knew I could count on you. I’ll meet up with you right after Chiron heads out, okay? To give you a list of people to keep your eye on.”
“Sure. Bye, Annabeth.”
“See ya!”
He closes the door and pads back to his setup, shaking the remote to get it going again. He can’t quite shake the smirk off his face.
The next twenty four hours are going to rock.
———
“Swiper No Swiping, initiate phase one.”
“Roger that, Sunny Dick.”
“…I’m revoking your code name priveledges.”
“No no no, I’m sorry, I’ll change it.”
———
Before Chiron leaves, he gathers them all in the amphitheatre.
“Children,” he calls, adjusting the bow slung across his back. “I am leaving now for my conference. I will be back before the sun sets tomorrow.” He gestures towards Annabeth, standing stiffly beside him. “Annabeth is in charge. Consider all my authority transferred to her before I return, am I understood?”
“Yes, Chiron,” courses the camp, some with significantly more attitude than others. Across the gathered crowd, Will catches his eye and winks. (Well, tries to. He has yet to catch on to the fact that he cannot, actually, wink, and instead just blinks really intentionally. Kayla and Austin have sworn him to secrecy.) Nico rolls his eyes, ears burning, and looks away.
“Good. Regular rules; no maiming, killing, or injuries above level seven. Any arson will result in a revoking of dessert privileges. Yes, Julia, even if you help in putting out the arson. It is the fire that is the issue, you understand. Excellent.” He claps his hands together. “I am looking forward to one day of peace. Try to avoid ruining it for me too quickly. Goodbye, children.”
With a wave and a fond squeeze of Annabeth’s shoulder, he trots over to Half-Blood Hill, ignoring Mr. D’s loud complaining about how long he took. With a snap of Mr. D’s fingers, they disappear. For a brief, uncanny moment, everything is still.
“Alright,” Annabeth shouts, clapping her hands together. Nico jumps. “Dinner is in an hour. Whoever is the first to fuck something up will be doing dishes. I will be watching. Dismissed.”
Wading through the swathes of ambling teenagers, she walks by where Nico is leaning against a pillar, half-hidden in the shadows.
“Lurk,” she orders, passing him.
Nico shoots her a mocking salute, fading into the shadow behind him. He barely catches her grin before he dissolves into the darkness.
———
“Phase two in effect. Ready to go, Sabrina Spellman?”
“Prepped to go, Teletubbies Sun Baby.”
“I hate both of you.”
———
“Halt!”
Across the common, three suspicious figures freeze, glance behind them, and then resume walking as casually as they can.
“I said halt! Do not move! Cease all function!”
Milling nervously towards each other, Dumb, Dumber, and Dumbest pause, shifting the three massive cardboard boxes they hold each.
“Hi, Annabeth,” Will says, smiling innocently. Cecil and Lou Ellen match him, eyes wide, expressions angelic.
Annabeth stomps over to them, fists clenched at her sides, entirely unmoved by the cherubic display in front of her. Nico stays right where he is, hidden by the shade of Cabin Eight.
“Explain yourselves,” Annabeth orders.
The three stooges exchange a look.
“Whatever do you mean,” Lou Ellen asks, shifting the boxes to free up her hand only to place it delicately over her chest. “Why, we are only helping our dear friend William —”
“Our dear, dear friend,” Cecil adds.
“— carry these many boxes of medical supplies, so as to lower his great burden —”
“Massive burden,” Will says sagely.
“— and free up his evening in order for him to spend his limited time with us, his most cherished friends.”
“Especially cherished,” Will and Cecil chorus together.
Unable to bite back a smile, Nico rolls his eyes so hard his skull hurts. They’re not even trying to not get caught, at this point. Idiots.
Clearly agreeing, Annabeth scoffs. “Yeah, right. Boxes down, all three of you. You’re being detained for suspected illicit substances.”
“Annabeth!” Will cries, hand to his chest, “after all I do for this camp, you would accuse me of being — illicit?! Me?! The outrage! The insult! The impugn, the —”
“Can it, Solace. Open the boxes.”
Huffing in perfect unison, the three of them carefully lower their boxes to the ground.
“Tape off.”
Intentionally slowly, they run a nail along the edge of the packing tape.
“Flaps open, guys, c’mon.”
With flourish, the trio fling open the thin cardboard panels. Inside each box is rows of bandages, packaged syringes, sterile bands, tongue compresses, and more that Nico can’t name. Annabeth glares at the boxes with perhaps more disdain than the situation calls for.
Then again.
It is camp.
“See?” says Cecil, gesturing grandly. “The shipment just came in from my dad.”
Like a hound dog locking in on a bleeding squirrel, Annabeth’s eyes narrow. Her lips spread into wide, frankly maniacal smirk.
“Your dad is in a conference with the rest of the Olympians right now, Markowitz.”
Caught.
“Well,” Cecil says, and then nothing else.
“He meant it in the royal sense,” Lou Ellen pipes up in his silence. Cecil nods frantically. “You know, ‘just’ as in, like, recently, as in this morning —”
“Do you three think I’m stupid.”
“It’s just medical supplies! You can look through them if you want —”
Even if they weren’t acting like criminals, Nico knows his friends. He knows his boyfriend, especially, and recognises that damn look on his face. He can also physically see Annabeth’s stress ulcer coming back.
Closing his eyes, Nico fades into Cabin Six’s shadow. It’s a quick jump, so the stretch is easy, and the darkness bows easily to his hold. He reappears silently behind the group, taking advantage of the setting sun, and darts out to grip Lou Ellen’s arm.
“Boo,” he whispers.
She shrieks at the top of her lungs, jumping three clean feet in the air. Coincidently, the boxes of medical supplies flicker, turning into a truly baffling amount of instant mashed potato boxes.
“I knew it!” Annabeth shouts.
On cue, all three doofuses turn to Nico, jeering and complaining about ‘ruining the fun’. Nico’s glare is ineffective on Doofus #1, but the other two can be cowed. He focuses on channelling the flames of hell to reflect in his eyes like his father showed him until they look away, muttering at the ground.
“We still don’t have any illicit substances,” Will insists, glaring right back. Nico sticks out his tongue. He crosses his eyes like a four year old. How immature, honestly. “So we’re just gonna take our stuff and —”
“Absolutely not, Golden Boy. Put that hand away.”
Wisely, Will draws slowly back from the boxes, tucking his hands in his pocket.
Annabeth stares, hard, at the three of them, flicking her dark eyes from the potatoes and back. The tips of her worn-out converse tap slowly on the packed grass, tip-tap-tip-tap, as they all squirm.
Understanding dawns on her quickly.
“It’s supposed to rain tomorrow, for the strawberry plants.”
They squirm harder.
“Oh, you godsdamn bitches.”
“It would’ve been really funny,” Cecil mumbles, staring at the ground. “Rain making the ground turn into a sea of mashed potatoes. Like Cloudy With A Chance Of Meatballs.”
“The only meatballs around here are the ones clogging up your skull!” Annabeth shouts, which doesn’t quite make sense but sounds clever coming from her anyway. “Who was gonna clean that up, huh? Magic?”
“I mean, probably,” Lou Ellen says, promptly shutting up at Annabeth’s glare.
“And you, Will! I cannot believe! Where is that responsibility you’re known for, huh?”
Will pouts. “I can be responsible and do fun things.”
“Fun, he says. I’m going to fucking kill you, how’s that for fun. The one day I’m left in charge, I cannot believe —”
“If it helps, it’s less about you and more about April Fools being tomorrow,” Cecil interjects tentatively. “Like, we were going to do this whether or not Chiron left.”
Annabeth glares darkly. “Of fucking course you were. It’s always you three, I swear to the gods. I should have known.”
“It’s honestly kind of embarrassing for you guys,” Nico adds. He smiles smugly at them, relishing in their rolled eyes and mocking hands. “Like, everyone expected this. You did this to yourselves, honestly.”
“Boo, you jag,” Lou Ellen protests. The other two knuckleheads joint in the booing, Will taking it an extra stop forward and blowing a raspberry, both thumbs pointing down. Nico responds with a wide grin and two middle fingers.
“Enough,” Annabeth says, rubbing her temples. “Extra chores, all three of you. Go help the cleaning harpies until sundown. And not another peep of complaint or I’ll have you on chores tomorrow, too.”
Without another glance at them, she turns around and walks away, muttering at least you caught it early at least you caught it early at least you caught it early over and over to herself.
“Pretty sure you guys have physical labour to do,” Nico says brightly when she disappears into the Big House. “I’d get started on that, if I were you.”
“Butthead,” Cecil mutters.
“Kiss-ass,” Lou Ellen agrees, making a face.
“Traitor,” Will whispers, pressing a kiss to his cheek as he walks past.
Nico watches them go, standing guard over the boxes in case they try to come back for them.
He can’t help but think that they all look a little too jovial for having their plans ruined before they even started.
———
“Is he still looking?”
“No.”
“Okay, Phase Three, let’s go let’s go let’s go —”
———
Every time Nico wakes with the sun, he sets aside twenty minutes of his morning routine to curse Apollo, his father, Apollo again, Phanes, and Prometheus. In that order.
He does like the bonus of getting breakfast. Usually he sleeps through it and has to hope Will saved him coffee cake, which he does, every time, because he wants to bribe his way into Nico’s affections. But there is something to be said about camp coffee cake when it is still warm, crumbly on the top and soft on the inside. It is a rare and occasionally worth-it treat, and on his bleary walk to the dining pavilion, Nico tries to keep this in the forefront of his mind. Fresh coffee cake. Fresh coffee. Fresh fruit. And Will, probably, not that seeing him is worth getting up early or anything. (So what that he gets all excited and energetic when he sees Nico up in the morning. If anything it’s embarrassing for him.)
For once, he’s actually early enough that there are very few people already at breakfast. He sees most of the Athena kids, still half-asleep over their mugs, and pretty much every camper under the age of eleven. A few head counsellors, too, watching out for the little ones or catching up on a rare moment of quiet. Nico makes a beeline for the breakfast spread, cutting a slice of coffee cake to leave on the platter and putting the rest of it on his plate. He puts a single strawberry in the middle of it so no one can accuse him of being unhealthy, then ambles over to the Apollo table.
“Neeks? Where’re you going?”
Nico pauses. He shifts his plate to one hand, rubbing at his bleary eyes. He looks at the Apollo table. He counts one, two, three heads — Kayla, Austin, and…Cecil?
“Nico? You good, babes?”
He turns, slowly, to face the voice. Picking at a plate full of pineapple, next to Reika Onason, Lou Ellen's sister, is Will.
“I know mornings are hard for you, but you’re meant to eat at your table,” he teases. “Come sit, doofus. Unless you’re taking advantage of Chiron’s absence to make friends elsewhere, I guess, but it seems unlike you.”
“You’re — what’re you — what?“ Nico says dumbly, struggling to reconcile the imagine in front of him.
For some reason, Will is eating his breakfast at the Hecate table.
And that is not all.
For some reason, his camp shirt does not say head medic. For some reason, he is wearing black jeans. For some reason, dozens of Celestial bronze rings adorn his fingers, carved with sigils. For some reason, his hair is clipped back, and there is black eyeliner around his bright blue eyes, and his nails are painted darker than Nico’s, and he is sitting at the Hecate table.
“What are you doing?”
“Having…breakfast,” Will says slowly. His lips turn down in concern. “Nico, are you okay?”
“I’m fine! It’s — you’re the one acting weird!”
Will and Reika exchange a look.
“Maybe you should go see Cecil,” Will suggests carefully. “Did you sleep okay last night? Maybe you hit your head —”
Nico looks desperately back at the Apollo table. They watch him strangely now, too, and after a second Cecil gets up from his — Will’s — seat, and walks over.
“Everything okay?” he asks, impish expression almost serious. “You look pale, Nico.”
“I’m worried,” Will says. “He’s acting — confused, Cece, maybe there’s a —”
“I’m not confused,” Nico scowls. “You two are — doing something.” He gestures vaguely between them. “As revenge for yesterday.”
Will snorts. “What, the potatoes? Don’t let Lou hear you discredit her like that. If you think she’d plan some revenge prank on you this early, you don’t know her at all.”
Nico’s head starts to hurt. He sets down his plate, rubbing his temples. Why would Lou Ellen be so bothered by that? Why isn’t she here, with her sister? What the hell is going on?
“Both of you — cut it out. Whatever dumbass prank you’re pulling is just stupid.”
“Did I hear something about a prank?” Bounding over from the camp store, arms laden with contraband junk food, is Lou Ellen, smiling brightly. “Whatever it is, I want in!”
“Oh, thank the gods, you’re back.” Will makes grabby hands at the pile. She tosses him a pack of twizzlers off the top, rolling her eyes as he tears into like he didn’t just polish off two and a half entire pineapples and three bowls of oatmeal. “I was going through withdrawal.”
“I’m not helping you when your stomach cramps up,” Cecil promises, snorting. His eyes follow the candy ropes in their harried journey towards Will's gaping maw. “You can sit in your misery.”
“Bleh bleh bleh.”
Nico narrows his eyes at them. Clearly, they’re all in on this — bit, or whatever it is. It’s a little too coordinated to be a quickly-planned revenge prank. They must have had a backup to the potatoes, although a pretty weak one. Unless they somehow managed to bribe the entire camp into agreeing to act along with their dumbassery, and Nico knows none of them can come even close to affording that, then all it takes is one person on Nico’s side before their little ruse is broken.
“It’s too early for this,” Nico says, interrupting their bickering. He picks up his breakfast and trudges off to his actual table, ignoring Will’s pouting. He has to brush the dust off the bench, but it’s worth it to avoid whatever headache the three of them will inevitably give him.
Coffee cake, save him.
———
“It’s not looking good, Katara —”
“I actually like that one.”
“— he’s totally onto us.”
“Just stick to the plan. Power onto Phase Four.”
———
To Nico's great satisfaction, many other people do double takes as they walk into breakfast.
As the Athena table, minus Annabeth, who is likely putting out a literal or metaphorical fire somewhere, wakes up, they start to notice the strange seating situation. It starts with Malcolm, who stares at Cecil in a lab coat with the same expression Nico has seen him wear when attempting to solve the Hodge conjecture. He leans over to murmur something in his brother’s ear, and then all seven of them are looking between the Hecate, Apollo, and mostly-empty Hermes tables with suspicious frowns and furrowed brows.
Nico catches Will’s eye, smirking.
Game’s up, he mouths. Will only shrugs innocently at him.
It’s Annabeth who finally puts a stop to the nonsense, striding in at the tail end of the rest of the slowly-waking crowd. She has grass in her hair and murder in her eyes.
Excellent.
“I swear to the gods, I just dealt with you three,” she snaps, raising her voice so they all can hear her. Coincidentally, it attracts the attention of every other nosy person at camp, which is everybody. “Just ‘cause Chiron’s not here doesn’t mean the rules go out the window. Back to your tables, let’s move.”
“We’re at our tables,” Cecil protests. “Why do people keep saying that?”
Annabeth takes a very deep, very long breath. She has a whole day of this, too. How unfortunate for her.
“Maybe because you are full of shit, Markowitz. Go sit with the rest of you troublemakers.”
Kayla clears her throat. “Annabeth, I’m not sure what you’re talking about.” Her thin eyebrows are drawn tightly together, lips turned down into a frown. “Cecil is exactly where he’s supposed to be.”
That gives her pause.
That gives a lot of people pause. Nico sets down his coffee cake.
“Cecil’s at the Apollo table,” Annabeth says slowly.
Kayla meets her gaze, face creased in concern. “...Yeah, I know.”
“Cecil is a Hermes kid, Kayla.”
She snorts. “Yeah, sometimes I think so, too. But as much as I would absolutely love to trade my brother —”
“Hey!”
“He’s a healer, Annabeth. He got claimed and everything.”
“I don’t have time for this,” Annabeth says, dragging her hand down her face. “Kayla, I don’t know what they paid you —”
“Oh, for goodness’ sake.” With a clatter of plates, Will clambers on the table, clapping his hands. “Your attention please, everyone!”
Without so much as a pause, Will claps his hands together. Immediately, a ball of green light expands from them, flashing almost too bright to look at. Nico watches, slack jawed, as he tosses it into the air, making it explode into a thousand little sparkles, descending gently over everyone’s heads. The little kids laugh in delight, reaching for them like they’re bubbles.
“Does that settle things?” he demands.
Silence rings for one, two, three seconds.
The camp erupts.
Dozens of voices overlap, all shouting over each other at once. Hands gesture wildly at Will, at Cecil, at Lou — trying to piece things together. Will is their head medic — isn’t he? Then why is Cecil wearing scrubs? And why is Lou chilling at the Hermes’ table, chatting with Julia over a bowl of cereal? Something isn’t right.
“Just — everybody quiet!”
It takes a minute, but everyone settles down, sitting back in their seats and fidgeting, looking around with half-confused, half-amused smiles. Like they’re laughing at a joke they’re half convinced is real.
“Who thinks this —” Annabeth makes some vaguely indicative movement at Will, Lou, and Cecil — “is weird? Raise your hand.”
Almost all hands go up. Only a handful stay down — Will, Lou Ellen, and Cecil, of course, but the entirety of the Hermes cabin stays oddly silent, as do Kayla, Austin, Reika, and, shockingly, Clovis.
“Stoll,” Nico demands before Annabeth gets the chance, “you’re buying this?”
“Buying what?” Connor says after a moment. He shrugs, eyes twinkling in amusement. “I’m just chillin’ with my sister, Nico. Cecil is great, but he hasn’t been in our cabin since he got claimed.”
The rest of the Hermes kids nod in agreement. Whispers filter through the tables — first Kayla, now all the Hermes kids?
“If I may,” interjects Clovis, yawning. “There’s an…energy, around.”
“Gods, yeah, I was feeling it too,” Will agrees frantically. “Almost a…blanket, of some kind. Something heavy and stifling.”
Malcolm looks over with interest. “You think we got cursed, or something? The whole camp?”
Will shrugs. “Maybe? Can’t think of any other reason you guys are remembering things weird.”
“It could be a god’s interference,” Nyssa suggests, raising her voice to be heard from the Hephaestus table. “I mean, that’s what happened to Jason and Leo and Piper, right? Their memories got fudged.”
“Yeah, but camp-wide…”
“Could still be possible.”
“There’s no way! They’re fucking with us, come on —”
It doesn’t take long for the arguing to start up again. This time, though, more people looked spooked — more people look to the dumbass trio themselves, eyes wide like they’re looking at ghosts.
Like they’re believing this shit.
Nico scowls, shoving away from his table and stomping over to his boyfriend.
“You are so full of shit I can smell you from across the room,” he says, raising his voice to be heard over the noise.
“I don’t know what you want me to say.” He wiggles his fingers in Nico’s direction. They spark with the same green light. “Want me to switch your eyes and ears again?”
That sounds horrifying. “Try it and die.”
“Alright, grouchy.” He holds his hands up, stepping back from Nico’s glare. “I’ll keep my hands to myself.”
Alarm bells go off in Nico’s head. This is more than just strange, it’s wrong. And not just ‘cause he looks different — so what if he looks different. Will could shave his head bald and tattoo himself purple, Nico wouldn’t care.
But his aura.
The essence of Will, that Nico has grown so used to be stopped noticing. The quiet, warmth strength, the feeling of a soft breeze in the summer, of walking past a window in the late afternoon, of smokey August campfires and scratchy guitar, is gone. Is different, rather; almost blocked. It feels like a cloud blowing over the sun, making everything warped and off and shadowy.
Something is afoot. Something is wrong, and not just some vague, made-up spell like the Trickster Trio would have the camp believe. Something like smoke and mirrors, something shadier.
He watches Will fall into step next to Cecil, ducking away from his ruffling hand. He frowns.
If there’s one thing Nico can do, it’s wade through the shadows.
———
next
#can anyone guess what these dumb ass mother fuckers did.#pjo#percy jackson and the olympians#hoo#heroes of olympus#pjo hoo toa#nico di angelo#will solace#nico di angelo & will solace#solangelo#established solangelo#will solace & cecil markowitz & lou ellen blackstone#annabeth chase#nico di angelo & annabeth chase#my writing#fic#longpost
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Come Close
Monday hit Vincent like a bullet in the back. He intentionally woke up earlier than usual, slipping out of the bed as quietly as he could so Stella wouldn’t stir awake. It was always dark out by the time he woke up for work, the sun still lingering just behind the horizon as the moon began to slowly fade, but today, he’d woken up so early that the sun wasn’t even a suggestion, the world outside their home still black as pitch. In the quiet, he entered the closet and packed a small duffel bag with an outfit that was among the best he had, short of his formal suit. In the privacy of his home, he wore graphic tees and sweatpants, but in public, he forced himself to project a more professional image, even when he wasn’t wearing his uniform. Simple stuff, but classy enough. Loose slacks with or without pleats paired with a button-down shirt just a size too large, so it draped across his torso and created a nice billowy silhouette when he tucked them halfway in. First two buttons undone, maybe an undershirt depending on the weather, and no belt because it always took the look from ‘classy vintage casual’ to ‘someone’s grandpa’ in an instant.
The outfit he’d decided upon was simple enough: loose white slacks, laceless brown dress shoes, and a light blue button-down to top it all off. Zipping the duffel bag shut, he tried not to think about the reason he’d chosen that shirt over any of the other colors, but the memory burrowed its way into his head in spite of his attempts not to recall it. Way back when, on their sixth anniversary, Stella had told him it brought out the blue in his eyes. Though he’d made a great effort to bury his guilt, it still disgusted him how badly he wanted Tony to tell him the same,
It still didn’t stop him. He clipped his nails, trimmed his body hair, and shaved his face clean, meticulously preparing himself to be seen and touched. And as he snuck into the garage and hid the duffel inside the SUV's spare wheel compartment — a trick he’d learned from people who were better than average at hiding drugs — he ruminated on how he’d resort to anything to feel desirable again. Even infidelity.
And to think he ever believed he’d turn out different than his father.
As soon as his shift ended — he’d made sure to be back at the station at exactly 2:00 PM — he showered in the locker room and slipped into the outfit he’d packed into the duffel, briefly examining himself in the full-length mirror. He looked younger without the beard and taller in the dress shoes, the high slacks and tucked loose button-down creating a silhouette that even he couldn’t deny looked appealing. That observation came to him by surprise — he couldn’t recall the last time anyone had called him handsome and he’d believed it.
He’d stopped believing in Jesus when he was no older than June, but the fact that he managed to leave the department unseen truly did make him wonder whether there really was a sky daddy.
Placing his duffle in the passenger’s seat, he took off in his SUV, heading straight for a grocery store that was on the way to Tony’s apartment. It wasn’t high-falutin or anything, but it wasn’t exactly a Walmart, either. Ripe, organic vegetables, high-quality meats — the kind of quality a man like Tony would appreciate in his food. Tony’s list was longer than he’d been expecting, but Vince was already learning not to question his culinary genius. Case in point: he actually despised jalapenos, but for Tony, he was willing to give them another shot. Worst case, he’d ask him to put them on the side, something which he halfway feared would get him a look of either disapproval or disbelief.
Highly aware of the time, Vincent stocked up his cart with all the speed of a chipmunk gearing up for hibernation. He wasn’t particularly skilled at choosing which vegetable seemed ripest, but he knew well enough to steer clear of the ones with bruises and mysterious scars that suspiciously resembled bite marks left by tiny little teeth. He tried not to think too hard about those.
He was halfway through the chip aisle when something on the opposite shelf caught his attention from the corner of his eye: a six pack of root beer in fine glass bottles, the liquid inside as dark as pitch. Root beer had always been his favorite type of pop, but over the years, he’d noticed how all the best brands had changed their recipes from cane sugar to high fructose corn syrup, which was a major disappointment. Picking it up and turning it over, Vince deduced from the labels that this root beer was the real deal — cane sugar and dark licorice, the shit that burned on the way down in all the right ways. The only thing that would make it even better was some nice, rich French vanilla ice cream piled to the top of a glass, bubbling brown fizz as the root beer drowned it.
What was it he’d told Tony, standing at his car window and shining his flashlight right into his eyes? ‘Could be drinking root beer floats instead of you driving twenty over the speed limit and me being the one who had to catch you,’ Vince grinned to himself, putting the root beer in the cart. It wasn’t a guarantee that Tony would remember it, but it was worth a shot. Not to mention, Vincent <em>really<em> fucking wanted a root beer float. It wouldn’t be the worst thing to taste on Tony’s lips.
The last thing he shoved in the cart was a gallon of the best-looking French vanilla ice cream he could find, and when he made it to the checkout lane, the total was so egregious, he simply swiped his card and pretended he didn’t see it. To his immense relief, the payment went through. It was a $100 Visa gift card he’d won from a raffle at the station, and when he found it at the bottom of the kitchen drawer of expired credit cards and random shit, he’d had no idea whether it’d been used or not. A godsend. Maybe Jesus really was real.
Vincent breathed a soft laugh through his nose as he carried the bags to his SUV, his gut a flutter of conflicting emotions. It was almost funny to think that if god was real, he’d be helping a man cheat. Vincent convinced himself to laugh about it because the alternative was dwelling on the reality of what he was doing. The reality of what he would never be able to take back.
It wasn’t until he pulled his SUV into the Driftwood Cove apartment complex, squeezing it into a tiny space between two large, beaten-up trucks, that it really set in. The doubt. The fear. The terror. He was about to become a cheater. Clearing his throat once, loud and hard enough to hurt, he unlatched his seatbelt, swung open the door, and — stopped. There, on his ring finger, was the bright silver band he’d been given thirteen years ago. It had scratches, smudges. It was well-loved. And when Stella had placed it onto his finger, brown eyes smiling right up at him, she’d brought his hand to her lips and kissed it. Kissed him. She’d tasted like Anastasia lipstick and strawberry chardonnay and… forever. An entire lifetime.
He wiped his eyes with his sleeve, soaking up the tears before they could slip down his face. That girl… that sweet, funny girl with the silly laugh and the perfect eyes who’d told him she loved him every night… Vincent still loved her. Desperately.
But that Stella had been gone for a long, long time.
Slipping his ring off of his finger, slow and gentle, he looked at the deep red divot it left behind and reminded himself, quite painfully, that the fact that she was gone didn’t mean he wasn’t betraying her.
He placed the ring in the cupholder and pulled a hand over his face, breathing in the cool, crisp air of a dawning autumn. Then he exited the car, grabbed the groceries from the trunk, and turned around to find the building of the man he’d chosen to betray her with. He was halfway to the staircase once he remembered, and he sighed as he returned to the car to retrieve it. The duffel with his boots and uniform. He’d need to change back into it after he and Tony fucked. Hide the evidence of the sin he’d committed. After all, he had a wife to fool.
By the time he made it to Tony’s door, the guilt had found itself a lovely companion: agonizing anxiety. It made Vincent’s heart thud hard, fast, ceaseless, his stomach so tight he was almost nauseous. He shook himself out as well as he could with the bags in his hands, forcing himself to close his eyes and count his long, heaving breaths.
This was it.
Here it was.
Fucking do it.
Forcing out one hard, heavy breath, Vincent transferred all of the bags to one hand — a valiant task — raised his fist, and knocked on Tony’s door. Shave-and-a-haircut, two bits. Partially a habit and partially an attempt at humor to shove down the flurry of guilt and terror and dark, heavy want pulsing through him like thunder.
It felt like ages before the door eased open, the light wood squeaking on rusted hinges with peeling black paint. Vincent froze. Tony was so much taller than he’d remembered, the hard lines of his jaw cut sharp by shadow and the apartment’s thin yellow light. All at once, Vincent returned to himself like a spirit to a body, relaxing his shoulders, tilting his head, and giving the man his most glittering grin — the one that had made his face crawl with faint pink.
“What's up, man?" Vincent said, and raised a dark brow, grin slowly turning mischievous. "You ready for some fuckin' nachos?"
@tex-mex-tony
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*insert excuse for you to talk about siffrin and loop intrusive thoughts hcs here*
*shakes like a scared wet dog* ok. uuh watch out because I describe self harm in uncomfortable detail at one point in this.
So there's like, the obvious ones like Siffrin having thoughts about harming/killing his friends (which the game straight up refers to as intrusive thoughts) and the dreams he has about cannibalizing his friends.
I also think about how some of the ways Siffrin can die are like, kinda cartoonish but gruesome if you think on it? Like being crushed by a rock or slipping on a bananan peel and breaking their head open/breaking their neck. I personally experience thoughts where I die or get severely harmed through some stupid shit hamsterstyle and they get uncomfortably visceral and since Siffrin does actually die Like That *hits him with the projection beam*
Another one I think about is how, if you interact with the glass shard in Act 6, Siffrin panics and throws it away. Which to be fair is reasonable to do and he did that because he doesn't want anyone to get worried. That being said I can absolutely see them experiencing intrusive thoughts about self harm, specifically in circumstances where he doesn't actually want to do it or where his thoughts are a lot more gruesome than anything he would actually do. E.g. a little while ago I shared a snippet from my fic where Loop thinks about using a peeler to peel their arms open. That one was actually based on me having a thought about using a cheese grater so um. I actually arguably toned it down a little bit for the fic. But you get the point.
In that fic snipped I also had Loop have a thought related to food contamination and it's. Honestly not as strong as my other headcanons on this subject? Like I think you could link it to the cannibalism dreams and Siffrin developing a weird relationship with food during the loops but I don't have a whole lot to say about this one.
Now the Main Reason I hesitate to get into my headcanons about what intrusive thoughts Siffrin and Loop experience is because I can honestly see them experiencing ones about sexual harrassment. Like Siffrin repeatedly expresses that he thinks he's greedy and disgusting for craving touch and affection and he feels like he's forcing Isabeau to love him and grows repulsed towards their own feelings and this whole thing has probably only been worsened with the Bad Touch event and it's a thing where I'm like. it sounds really fucked up but intrusive thoughts just are Like That and it makes sense to me.
And at the end of the day that's why I'm so riled up about people reading the cannibalism dreams as "so Loop probably ate their friends right" because how did you get to that conclusion. Siffrin, and by extension Loop, would rather kill themselves than seriously and intentionally harm their friends. Even when Loop wanted to test how their friends dying would affect Siffrin's loops, they decided to let the King get his hands dirty about it.
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AITA for reporting my neighbor to the police and getting him evicted for trying to poison my chickens?
I know that question sounds insane but bare with me. I (F30) live next to my landlord (F60s?) and my neighbor (M30s). I have 3 hens that I keep as pets and for fresh eggs.
I have my landlords written permission and follow all city ordinances (so no roosters, no more than 6 hens, built the coop away from houses, have a permit from the city, etc.)
They are in my yard in a fenced in run with a coop. I made sure to get a breed that's very quiet and docile so as not to bother neighbors, but whenever new people move in, I still go introduce myself, let them know I have hens, and then ask them if they want fresh eggs.
When I asked my new neighbor, he looked disgusted and said "I don't want shit from dirty ass barn animals"
Uh, okay. I told him that I was sorry for bothering him and to have a good day. He said "Whatever" and then closed the door.
A week later, I get a knock on my front door and open it. It's someone who works for animal control telling me that they've received a noise complaint.
At first I thought it was for my dog, who's a chihuahua mix, because he was barking VERY loudly at a squirrel the other day. Nope, it was the chickens. The guy said that someone reported roosters crowing.
I do not have roosters. My chickens are 2 years old so I'm 100% sure that they're hens and not roosters.
I invite him in, take him into the yard, and show him the chickens. I show him where their coop is, show him that I keep all of their food in secure containers to prevent mice and rats, I show him my license number, etc. At this point he's confused, because my chickens are very quiet and I clearly have no roosters.
Every time I saw the neighbor, he was usually hanging out with friends, and as soon as he noticed me he would immediately start complaining about my chickens. Talking about how barn animals are nasty, chickens are loud and stinky and gross, how they're only good for eating, etc. Basically the usual "You have prey animals as pets so I'm going to joke about killing and eating them".
I ignored him, and whenever I did see him I would smile and say hello, ask how he's doing, etc. which he ignored.
One morning I came out into my yard to let the hens out for the day, and saw something in their run. At first I thought it was some kind of weird, fucked up mushroom, but I looked closer and realized it was a piece of bread that was a bluish green color.
I looked up, because my chickens run is fenced in and covered in aviary netting, and realized that there was a huge cut in the netting. I went back inside, grabbed a plastic ziploc bag and gloves, put the bread in it, and then got a shovel to dig out the dirt that the bread was sitting on just in case.
I wasn't sure where to go, so I took it to my vet and showed one of the vet techs. He looked concerned, asked if any pets ate it, and then took it back to show one of the vets.
He came back out and told me that it looked like it had been covered in rat poison, and I told him that the aviary netting was cut, and this was in my yard. He told me to go to the police and make a report because it was 100% someone intentionally trying to poison my chickens/dog.
Before doing that, I went home, and checked my cameras. I have them up in the corner of the birds run facing their coop, so that if anything ever happened to them (we have lots of raccoons) I would be able to see.
I saw my neighbor climb up (I'm assuming on a step ladder), use a knife to cut the netting, and throw the bread into the yard. I took the video and piece of bread to the police, and filed a report.
I told them yes, I know, it's just chickens, but they're my pets and I also have a dog that could have eaten it (he goes into the coops with me). I love my chickens, all of them have names and I take them to a vet if they ever get sick, so to me they're more than livestock.
Cops are useless and I figured they wouldn't do anything, so I also told my landlord about it. I showed her a copy of the video that I saved, and she was horrified and told me she would take care of it immediately.
I'm not sure if the cops ever did their jobs, but he was gone a week later. My landlord apologized profusely for the trouble and I said it was fine, she had no way of knowing.
I thought I was justified in what I did, since I literally caught this guy on camera throwing poison into my yard for my pets to eat (and then slowly die of internal bleeding).
But I mentioned it to an IRL friend (F28) through text (she's out of town) and she was FURIOUS. She asked me wtf I was doing, ACAB, etc. and basically said "Isn't your neighbor black? How would you have felt if the cops showed up and shot him over some stupid birds?"
I told her that I went to the cops because my vet told me to, and just because he's black doesn't give him an excuse to poison peoples animals for no fucking reason.
I also reminded her that the cops in our town are useless and since no animals were actually poisoned, they probably wouldn't even get off their asses to go talk to him.
For context: One time someone got HIT BY A CAR 10 minutes away from the police station. It took them 20 minutes to get there.
She told me I was a racist bootlicker and a cracker... She's white and I'm mixed race (my dad is Colombian) so like... lol. lmao even.
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I just do not understand the insistence that animals must be sentient.
Because if they were, then why are the animals that kill other animals not labeled as murderers?
Hell, why aren't cats seen as malicious, mini, jigsaw killers considering how they play with their food. Why aren't ewes looked upon with disgust for often trampling orphaned lambs that a farmer tries to get them to adopt? Why aren't wolves seen as bullies for hunting in packs to kill prey? Why aren't dolphins more acknowledged for being effing rapists?
If you believe that animals are capable of reasoning, then that automatically makes all animals that eat meat into exactly what humans that eat meat are, thus they should be looked upon with every bit as much scorn as certain vegans look upon regular ass people. And it'd also mean that any animal that hunts is a murderer.
Hell, many animals are cannibals! In fact, plenty even eat the young of other animals or even their own young if they're so much as lacking in B12!
Literally! Mother hamsters are known to eat her own babies if she's put on an all-corn diet! They don't even have to be dying because of it!
You can't claim that animals are all sentient & then not hold them responsible for their actions! That's hypocritical! Because if these animals are sentient, then they are making the active decision to commit these actions & should be held acountable for them! Period!
Seriously, unless an animal is specifically an obligate herbivore, they will likely still eat meat given the chance!
And, whether you like it or not, animals are only as vegan as their options. As soon as times get tough for a deer, it's gonna be eyeing up any little Tweeties or Thumpers they come across. Same with horses, sheep, ect.
In fact, if animals are as deserving of life & respect as us, then doesn't that make having pets the same as slavery? And how do cat owners even justify feeding their pets? At least those that force their cats into a vegan lifestyle are being consistent even though they're abusing the poor things. Those cats aren't gonna live to be 10 years old on a diet like that & they'll be miserable the whole time.
Like, how do people twist their brains into so many directions just to justify their lifestyles??
Seriously, humans are so freaking unique within the animal kingdom. We are probably the only creatures who would do all this nonsense for the sake of critters that honestly don't give an eff.
Like, dude, whatever. You don't wanna eat meat, then don't. No skin off my brow. More brisket for me! But don't moralize your choice & don't demonize those who love a delicious steak.
Here's what some don't seem to understand; those animals are gonna die anyway, whether it's by the hand of man, a predator animal, sickness, or old age. Their days are numbered no matter what. And, quite frequently, they'll still get eaten. So, in the end, what's the difference if a sheep is eaten by a human or a buzzard or a coyote?
You didn't save that sheep's life. You only postponed the inevitable. Because if you're not the one who eats it, then someone or something else will. You cannot stop it.
And it's likely going to hurt regardless, so saying shit like "anything to reduce at least a little bit of the pain in the world" is just pure naiveté. You haven't reduced the pain in the world even a little. And in fact, considering how a lot of animals don't even care if their food is all-the-way dead as they're eating them, you could even say that that animal might end up experiencing even more pain than if they'd been killed by a human.
And that isn't even taking into account sickness or accidents! How do you know that that animal's last moments won't be spent in complete misery or abject fear??
Because one of the things about humans is that, for the most part, we prefer our food dead-dead before we eat it. And we intentionally go out of our ways to make death as painless a transition as possible, even for the animals we're gonna eat.
If we're gonna keep it 100, ya'll. Humans can be some of the gentlest, most merciful killers on earth.
Hell, we have laws against animal cruelty!
And, the thing is, animals... don't. Period. In fact, most don't make it to old age.
So, in the end, your efforts were meaningless.
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would love to hear you talk about some centaur fart torture fantasies <3
Ah, sorry, I’m not really a fart torture person! While I do find it fun to reference the concept lightly, it’s not one that I really fantasize about or dwell in.
To make it up to you, here’s a thought that's adjacent to fart torture (if only slightly):
Beware making a bet against a centaur. While most people modify their bets to fit the situation (and centaurs will do this too), centaurs have a traditional choice of punishment for people who lose a bet against them: the carriage ride.
If you’ve read my previous centaur thoughts, you’ll recognize the concept: a centaur pulling somebody in a carriage where the seat is perfectly at horse butt-level. Before, I described this happening in a totally loving and appreciative setting, where the passenger loves the centaur’s farts and centaur loves supplying them. These carriage rides are personal and (if you’ve got the fetish for it) beautiful.
Enduring a carriage ride after you’ve lost a bet is different. These carriage rides are intentionally long, or at least feature lots of “rest stops” where the centaur pauses, but the passenger doesn’t get out of their seat. Also, the passenger is restrained, always facing ahead (their view is more of flapping horse tails than the places they’re riding through) and unable to leave the ride until it’s done. The final difference is that when the centaur pulling the carriage loads up on trigger foods, they take extra care into choosing things that make their farts more pungent and “gross.” (They may also carry a knapsack filled with gas-producing snacks so that they can “reload” during the trip.) Sometimes, two centaurs will pull the carriage side by side so that the passenger endures twice as much “scenic air."
Oh, and let’s not forget the commentary. This is up to the centaur’s preference, but often, they’ll loudly comment on how bloated they are, or how their gas sounds, smells, and feels. If there are two centaurs, they’ll loudly have a little fart contest and compare blasts. Basically, it’s their time to show off in front of a disgusted, restrained audience.
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Season 7x03-7x20
I just finished watching all the Clana scenes from S7...
Firstly, the beginning was so happy - Lana, Kara, and Clark at the farm. Clark's smile as he hugged Lana when she showed up at the barn. Lana making Clark his 'favourite blueberry pancakes' and Clark superspeeding to the store to get Vermont's finest maple syrup when Lana said they were out. Clark saying the food that Lana prepared was amazing. Lana acting like such wife material <3. Clark rightfully pulling back from the famous chick on his lap and Lana strolling in, introducing herself as Clark's girlfriend (plus this random famous chick also clocking that Lana is 'the center of Clark's universe like 5 minutes into meeting them). Clark confidently telling Lana that he has finally got everything he ever wanted and that it was right on that farm with her. Clark and Lana going horseback riding after a morning of Clark being weirdly romantic. Clark and Lana making earthquakes after...yeah. Clark opening up to Lana about stuff he did from S3 when she was almost walking out the door. Lana's eyes lighting up at Clark's honesty and her saying that she is still committed to them. Clark saying that he doesn't want their relationship to be over. My personal favourite is when Clark finds Lana at the farm with her hand on the burning pot handle, grabbing her hand, and in the softest voice I have ever heard from him on this show, saying "Honey, your hand" (I won't even touch on the way he looked at her here and during the time when Braniac did whatever he was doing to her). They had their share of happy, beautiful, touching moments this season that further cement the innate connection they share.
I think the happiness we saw from them in S5 was them enjoying the last of their teenage years and exploring their relationship and all the things that they had denied themselves for years. It was this catharsis and giddyness at finally having what they wanted. In S7, their happiness is calmer. Lana didn't have to come back to Smallville where she was wanted for crimes. She had 10 million dollars from Lex, an aunt in Metropolis, a whole world that she could explore, and she decided to come back to a farm in a small town. When she came back, they didn't even discuss what they were. After all these years, they didn't have to.
Then, there were the sad moments, the moments that make you want to shrink away from what you're seeing on the screen. I understand that Lionel and Lex did a number on Lana (though, I stand by my oppinion that a lot of Lana's vulnerability to Lex's manipulations was due to Clark pushing her away). Lana went through the ringer last season due to the Luthors. And she thinks that Lionel has means to hurt Clark. So, I understand that she would want to hurt them, to hurt the Luthors' goals. And I think that there's just no 100% moral way for her to go about that - when you want to hurt people as morally challenged as the Luthors, you have to break a few moral boundaries of your own. I also understand why she didn't tell Clark about all this. The Clark we know would be ...disgusted...by these less-than-moral actions from someone who he has imagined as kind. Similar to Clark fearing what Lana would think of him if he told her about his powers, Lana feared how Clark would look at her if he knew the things she had done. However, we do see reassurance from Clark's end that Lana isn't at that point of no return, and Lana's willingness to be better. That's the thing. They actually talk candidly about their relationship issues now....6 seasons later lol.
Though the way Lana intentionally hid things from Clark and lied bothered me, I thought of this as an opportunity for growth in their relationship. An opportunity for Clark to acknowledge what Lana had been through and understand that it is stifling to hold anyone to those moral standards. This growth seemed to be possible given Clark saying that he wanted to work to make sure that they could trust each other again.
Bizarro was proabaly the most hurtful part of this season. Yes, it must have been hurtful to Clark that Lana couldn't tell that it wasn't him. It must have been hurtful to hear that Lana preferred Bizarro since he was 'affectionate and understanding'. From Lana's perspective, there's this guy who looks exactly like Clark and gives you all the affection you crave - sometimes, you can want something so much that you can become blinded. It's not like Lana intentionally slept with someone that wasn't him, rather, I think she was a victim in this scenerio. There have been so many times in this series where Clark was on Red K or on some type of drug (more times than L*is has seen) where he wasn't being impersonated. How was Lana to know that this wasn't the strange way that Clark was during one of those other times? If my partner was suddenly a better partner, my first conclusion certainly would not be that he was being impersonated. The bottom line is that there wasn't sufficient reason for Lana to know that it wasn't Clark and, at the end of the day, she chose Clark by putting the blue stuff in Bizarro's hand. I do understand Clark's frustration - first Lex, now Bizarro. In his mind, he's put Bizarro in this trend he sees in Lana's choices which makes it hard for him to hear Lana's side on this. He's wary of another Lex, as we can see by his aversion to the hallucination of Lex and Lana being intimate. I understand Lana's frustration too in waking up every day and disappointing Clark. I do appreciate that Clark understands that he is not an easy guy to be with (a relationship with a superhero is never realistically easy) and Lana understands that she has made her fair share of mistakes. The most important fact is that after all that, they both stayed becuase they still believed in what they have and that there was something between them worth fighting for.
Overall, there was so much pain this season with Lana trying to catch herself before she went too far (and we see how well she's matured in S8), Clark feeling like he was the one being kept in the dark (for a change lol), Bizarro etc. There was also so much growth - the conversations the two had about their ideas of each other, the things that hurt them, Clark actually opening up and sharing things with Lana. So much air was cleared and it felt like they could move forward stronger together if given the chance.
When Lana was put in a catatonic state by Braniac, Clark was terrified of losing her. My heart broke at the sound of him pleading for Lana, and the way he looked at her. The scene where he kneels down by her chair and cries, this is not the image of a man who is anywhere near done with his relationship. So, it was insulting- but definitely on par with the rest of the writing dedicated to keeping Lana and Clark apart- when Lana breaks up with Clark over a video message and lo behold, that was when she was being forced to do so by Lex. Seriously, have these two ever seperated due to lack of love or attraction for one another? (No.)
Do I think a lot has happened? Yes, Clark and Lana's relationship has been tested a lot on this show, way more than any other relationship. Through all of that, their understanding of one another and their ability to forgive one another has really shone through. You can't rant about all the mistakes Lana has made in S6/7 without wanting to scream at Clark for keeping his secret for 6+ years from the person who was most deserving of hearing it. I understand that, and from the choice that Clark and Lana make to rekindle their relationship in S8, they understand that too.
Most Cl*is shippers will say that it was a dragged on relationship that was repeatedly on/off without acknowledging the multitude of circumstances that Clark and Lana have faced together. Come talk to me about Clark and Lana's relationship in Smallville being toxic and that other relationship being perfect when Clark and that other woman have faced even a third of what Lana and Clark have been through.
And you know what? After all this shit, I hear that Clark still chose Lana when faced with the choice of Lana and L*is in Season 8. And in the barn, Clark walked through all that pain to kiss her and watched her leave with tears in his eyes, saying "I love you" whilst he was on his knees in pain from the proximity to the kyptonite that was now in her veins.
I haven't read the comics. But, the fact that after all that they had been through- the lies and danger and fear,- it was Clark's one tangible weakness being injected into Lana's veins that did it (it wasn't even Clark that walked away in the end lol)? That should erase any doubts about what Clark would have chosen if he was given a choice between Lana and that other woman. By the time S9 and 10 came around, there was no choice to be made, just leftovers that paled in comparison to the epic love he shared with Lana Lang.
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If you could go back in time and give your younger self one piece of advice related to your identity-questioning journey, what would it be? (Do you have any words of advice for LGBTQ+ kids?)
"It's okay to feel desire, it's okay to experiment and you're not disgusting for trying to understand who you are and how you feel."
"For y'all LGBTQIA+ kids my advice is research research research, be SAFE and CAREFUL if you want to experiment, especially in your sexuality, sex ed is very important so research that too. Go slow, no need to rush."
"Try to see if there's any groups or clubs in your area, hang out with people like you who have the same interests... community and having people to rely on is important, it can save your life."
"I’d tell my younger self to not feel ashamed on having crushes on girls and to also not feel pressured to get into a relationship."
"Be prepared to feel some particularly awful emotions. Don’t fight it, either."
"Remember to be careful of your biases, treat people how you want your loved ones to be treated, be open-minded, welcoming, there are so many things we don't understand yet."
"You don't have to be certain about your identity to claim it - you don't need to have a super specific label, and you can change it as often as you want. Have fun and do what feels right, there are no rules! You don't need to come out if you don't want to or don't feel comfortable. You can wait, or you don't ever have to do it. Especially if you don't feel safe leaving the closet - your identity is no less valid and important if you're the only one who knows about it. I want you to be accepted as who you are, but more than that I want you safe. I want you alive. I want you with a roof over your head and food on the table. Don't feel like you need to put yourself in danger to do queerness "correctly.' "
"I never understood why people WANTED to be in relationships at all. So don’t feel pressured at all to do so."
"I’m still kinda figuring this out for myself, but I would say that no matter what, nothing is wrong with you."
"You don’t owe anyone an explanation of your identity or feelings. No one is entitled to your truth. But things become a lot more clear and a lot easier, mentally, as you get older, so please hang in there and see the sun on the other side."
"You will find your people that accept you if your family doesn't."
"Queerness has been described as a long thread of hurt. I use 'queerness' intentionally here, rather than LGBTQ+ identity, to remind you that we are queer because we are different and strange, and in that way we hold transformative power. To live a life with queerness can mean enduring alienation from self and from others that impacts the way you think and interact with the world. As LGBTQ+ individuals it is our responsibility to choose what to make with our own thread of hurt and to carry the tapestry of all those who live and die with us. Take this reckoning with yourself as an opportunity to exercise great feats of empathy, to ask the world why things are the way they are, and to ask yourself what else is possible."
— Multiple anonymous users, Pride 2024: Who We Are 🌈(survey)
#pride month#pride 2024#queer#queer pride#lgbt#lgbtq#lgbt+#lgbtq+#questioning advice#closeted advice#in the closet
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Obey Me: Solomon with an S/O that actually LEGIT likes his food, how do the others react to them EATING THAT?
Obviously, Solomon is delighted. Cooking is a fun pastime of his. It's a lot like alchemy and potion-making except the ingredients and measurements don't matter as much (THEY DO!!!!!) and it's always a delight to share his cooking with others. A shame that he doesn't get much opportunity to do so since he has the terrible luck of always bringing meals over just after the intended recipient has already finished eating. But you're always more than delighted to taste anything he's made and it brings a huge smile to his face when you enthusiastically chow down on anything he serves you.
Barbatos is concerned. For your physical health, certainly, but for your mental health even more. Have you hit your head recently? Because brain damage is the only explanation Barbatos can think of that would cause cause your taste buds to warp so drastically that they'd register anything that came out of Solomon's kitchen as palatable—much less edible.
Satan watches you in a mix of awe and horror as you slurp down some kind of noodle that smells like turpentine and wiggles on your plate like it's something alive. Solomon's cooking has brought the Devildom's most powerful demons to their knees so how is it that a human is able to stomach it without consequence? Surely you must be using a spell to counteract its effects but Satan detects no magic from you.
Beelzebub is almost jealous. Almost. The way you dig in makes Solomon's food look really, really good. You're clearly enjoying yourself. But even as his stomach rumbles with insatiable hunger, it just takes one quick sniff and the rotten smell that follows is enough to remind him that some food just isn't worth it.
Is it wrong that Asmodeus kind of thinks it's a turn on? Like, obviously it's yucky disgusting and the fact that you enjoy it is something that he thinks should be studied but also it's kind of a power move that you intentionally eat food that should knock you out for the next week. Also it kind of works in his favor because now when Solomon brings him baked goods Asmo can just give them to you instead.
Mammon is obviously disgusted by this and tells you how grossed out he is by it every chance he gets but also you should totally let him record videos of you eating Solomon's cooking. He hasn't nailed down all the details yet, but he's pretty sure he could make some serious grimm by getting people to pay to see the disgusting filth you can shovel in your body.
Raphael thinks you are the only other normal person. Unfortunately, you are both freaks of nature and feared by all.
Thirteen already knew you had bad taste since you were dating Solomon of all people but now—seeing you dig into a plate of something that cannot be shown on television due to current censorship laws—you've confirmed that your taste in food is comparable to your taste in men.
#ask#anon#sinning#obey me#otome hell#shitposting at the speed of light#solomon#reader insert#barbatos#satan#beelzebub#i wasn't going to do everyone's reactions so I just picked a handful of characters#raphael#asmodeus#mammon#adding thirteen after i posted already because i though of it in the shower and it made me laugh#thirteen
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Title: MHA Barbeque Headcanons Pairing: Bakugou Katsuki/Reader, Yaoyorozu Momo/Reader, Jirou Kyouka/Reader, Asui Tsuyu/Reader Rating: gen Word Count: 415 Warnings: None Summary: What you and your partner/best friend would be doing together. The roles may be a bit obvious, but I'm getting back into these things, so enjoy! A/N: They can be read as stand alone for each character or mix and match that you do multiple activities with them Created for @anyfandomfluffbingo B4 Backyard BBQ
Yaoyorozu Momo
Momo was hosting due to her large yard, pool, food, everything.
You’re on decorating duty with Momo, which she had insisted on even after you countered that just hosting
But Momo being Momo had to go above and beyond, so she excitedly presented you with multiple boxes to decorate the yard with
You nearly opened your mouth to ask her to just have her many employees do it, but decided against it when she had her innocent look that always made you melt
You caved and agreed on the condition that she decorate with you
She was nervous of failure at first, but gained her confidence back once
Bakugou Katsuku
He’d obviously be the one cooking along with you helping him
Both to spend time with him and to stop him from quite literally blowing up on people who want something cooked the ‘wrong way’
Except you, because you’re the one person he’d never judge for your taste in food
Even if it’s disgusting in his eyes
But just because you’re the first line of defense for Katsuki’s rage doesn’t mean you don’t enjoy grilling yourself
Afterall, you get to spend time with him and first dibs on food, what could be a better place?
Asui Tsuyu
Naturally, Tsu would be in the pool with you.
But because of her frog like quirk, she can only stand for short periods of time due to the chemicals in the water
But for the time she is there, you watch in admiration at just how much she enjoys herself
The best part of swimming with Tsu is that she knows how not to make a huge splash
And if she uses her tongue to launch people into the pool to intentionally make a huge splash?
Well who’d complain?
Kyōka Jirō
DJ!
Jiro has such a wide variety of music you have to help her narrow it down to a shorter playlist that can be enjoyed in an afternoon.
As well as putting in a bit of your own requests for tunes
Sometimes she’ll have it just a little too loud to actually enjoy at a outdoor party
…Or loud enough that will have Momo’s fancy neighbors call the cops
So you’re her impulse control for keeping it at a reasonable volume
And glaring at her whenever she tries to be sneaky and turn it up a bit
So you’re sneaky yourself and put music she created herself in
Much to her embarrassment and everyone else’s praise
#my hero academia#mha#yaoyozoru momo#momo yaoyozoru#x reader#momo x reader#bakugou x reader#bakugou katsuki#headcanons#asui tsuyu#tsuyu asui#tsuyu x reader#kyoko jirou#jiro kyoka#jiro kyoka x reader
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This is my Fursona [or should I Bugsona]
Likes: Playing games with friends, video games, board games, Cards against humanity, fairy lights, cooking, fluffy bathrobes, fruit, yoga/meditating/exercising with friends, long car rides with friends, car games, cloudy days, all kinds of dairy products, gameplay videos (across all genre, many of them without commentary), waterparks, coffee, happy pranks (no one gets hurt or embarrassed by)
Dislikes: Hot/ humid/sticky/ weather, bad/rude restaurant service, food covered in nothing but grease, trash talkers, overly bright lights.
Absolute loves: Tea/Fruit tea, making honey/honey snacks, baked goods, naps, cuddling with friends, anything plush, campfires, marshmallows/fancy/roasted and s’mores, restaurant hopping, sushi, hotpot, any kind of food you share with friends, audiobooks, bookstores, ASMR content, white noises, camping and above all, Autumn and Winter. (Mamu:…don’t forget a certain wolf…)
Dislikes bordering hate: People who intentionally ruin meals with disgusting comments, bigots, overall rude/disrespectful people, unsanitary/unsafe work conditions, sour milk, very loud noises, unnecessary jump-scares in real life, sever/dangerous weather, rude wake up calls (like the kind people use to prank other), mean/cruel pranks, being sick.
Pronouns: She/Her They/Them
Sexuality: Asexual (ageosexual) Polyromantic.
Galactic honey/honey treats: Depending on the season and constellation currently in the sky at the time the color and taste will change drastically, but will always taste/look as beautiful as the season and constellation its made in.
General Personality: Bordering on motherly/big sister, she’s often checking on everyone’s health, doesn’t matter if it’s mental or physical she’s always checking on them. An introvert by nature but does socialize when it involves friends, however even if it’s with friends; she can get overwhelmed easily and tends to retreat to places away from the crowds. Other than that she’s an overly kind, affectionate person who always wants to make you feel warm and loved. Often seen hopping around restaurants or bookstores or in her own home making treats/goodies for friends and families. Despite being part moth she’s not fond of (overly) bright lights, it becomes too much, to the point it hurts her. She’s drawn more to soft or gentle glows like from candles, fairy lights, LED reading lamps or Moon/Starlight.
She loves making ASMR content, she stays away from the… ‘Explicit’ kind of ASMR and sticks to more sensory sounds, recording nature sounds like waterfalls, rain, bird calls, walking around in snow, campfires and then some. But often she’ll record herself reading a story or simply talking about constellations and making her famous honey snacks. She rarely uses her wings for flight, often using them as a blanket to wrap herself [or friends] in. Always has a sleepy expression despite being wide awake, speaks very softly that sometimes comes off as a whisper, makes a buzzing sound when stressed, overwhelmed or angry/mad.
Relationships: She’s private when it comes to relationships but some have seen her roaming around town and popular date spots with a female wolf, black fur with a patch of white along the belly. Often seen holding hands or cuddling close to one another, though not yet confirmed if in a committed relationship, they seem to be very, very, VERY close.
{ commissioned art by @eomlotanis }
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Aang stans are intentionally dishonest. Nobody said that not liking a certain food is bad. The problem is making a point to express disgust, treat it as weird and disgusting when talking to others, etc.
Once again, it's not the food, it was specifically sea prunes. Once again, he shows the same level of disgust at apples. His comment at Toph, which is what I assume you're refering to here because in the Bato episode, he in fact makes it a point to not express disgust to them because he doesn't want to upset them, was not about the food as a whole, it was about the sea prunes. Suggesting to a friend that a specific type of ingredient or food might not appeal to them is normal behavior.
But you know what, I'll bite. Sure lets say his behavior was driven by a disrespect for another culture's traditional foods. If we are taking this as true, this is something we should point out as bad, I agree.
But lets remember that vegetarianism is also a cultural food tradition. Why aren't you pointing out the many times Sokka scorns this practice? Why is Aang not owed the same respect? Why is pointing this out considered wanting people to bend to Aang's whims? Are Aang's cultural traditions not as deserving of respect and consideration?
Once again, it's the hypocrisy.
Aang shows disgust at a food type, he's disrespectful.
Other characters attempt to pressure Aang into eating a food type and then leave him alone when he refuses, and he deserves this. Anything else is coddling.
X
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an expression of something, or perhaps a record of insanity
obviously there's a famine because israel destroyed any indigenous means of food production, and aren't letting food trucks in, so they're just sitting at the border. not to mention that time the other day that they fired on the crowd gathered around a food truck on the beach, causing a panicked stampede that killed people. 'the guys with guns won't let us in' is not a problem that can be solved by money. still. if even one person escapes death by starvation because an aid org or a medical org had more money on hand, then that money is better off in their hands than mine...
rn i feel very conscious that while it's impossible to achieve any significant change without sacrifice, the converse is not true, there's no magical law that ensures sacrifice must be rewarded. a social media campaign resulting in a few tens of thousands of people trying not to spend money for a week is not a strike pressing demands, and probably won't make a noticeable blip on whatever economic statistics are gathered by whoever gathers economic statistics, and even if someone notices the line going down a bit, they probably are not able to conclude it's supposed to be a general strike for Palestine.
similarly, activist actions that deliberately get someone arrested for the sake of a few hours of annoyance to security are a questionable trade in the battle of attrition. I still remember doing first aid at the massive mobilisation against the arms fair a few years ago, which ran up a hefty policing bill cutting people out of lockons on the main road, but did not in fact stop the arms fair. direct action does not always get the goods.
and in general I believe our people should not be thrown away lightly. getting arrested should be something we are prepared to risk but a risk we mitigate as much as possible, not something we actively seek out. this is something that the antifascists understood pretty well, with tactics like the black-bloc and de-arresting. but the current trend in activist orgs is to exploit the state's unwillingness to inflict bodily harm by putting activists in intentionally dangerous situations and forcing the state to spend and money time freeing them, with the resignation to getting arrested. it's less direct action and more stunts for the media. but is that just an excuse? 'the americans are not what we call a useful people', they say, when the yanks don't want to be arrested.
the gnawing feeling that I must do something wants me to stand up and prove that I give a shit. I just cannot see what would actually be effective with the resources I have available to me. the people who have real power in this situation fundamentally have no reason to listen to me. I'm sure many of them think, quietly, along the lines of that guy at the protest a couple months back who walked by and called me a gender-confused leftist pedo: giving a shit about people in palestine is disgusting to them.
I've signed up to do arrestee and court support and shit like that with a certain org that's had some success shutting down Elbit facilities in this country. between health shit and work, I'm not realistically in a place where I'm capable of doing the spiky direct actions at the moment, but if I can be part of the logistics wing for the people who can do it, maybe I can feel less fucking useless. I hope when the call comes, I'm able to get out there and show up, rather than crushed in another wave of mysterious fatigue.
of course, if a 32-year-old disabled game dev could stop a war from her bedroom, the world would be a very different place... but I must not ignore that I have some power. even if it's just the money I earn at this job.
I frequently fall back to wondering what I'd have done if I'd lived in Germany or Poland during the Holocaust. the fantasy is that I'd be a partisan in the woods, fighting the Nazis by any means available; a likely answer is probably that I'd flee the country, or die in a camp. but the scariest thought is that I'd have been able to get away with 'inner emigration', and just keep my head down and do nothing. cue the daniel kahn song I guess. (Daniel Kahn's song is of course a lot more subtle and bitter in its treatment of the subject, not just this goofy morality play in my head.)
words are cheap!!!
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Hi 💕
I recently read a post where they said that Kishi intentionally constantly extols Sasuke's appearance, breaking patterns and so on. That's not the point. The same post says that Naruto is disgusting and not handsome at all, that was the reason why I deleted this post out of sight, well, that is, have you seen Naruto? He's the most beautiful man on earth, that's just my opinion, but that's the point that beauty is a relative thing, right? I do not dispute that Sasuke is handsome, but for me personally Naruto is more attractive both externally and internally, and this author declares with such firm confidence that Sasuke is the most beautiful of all, and Naruto is disgusting, it just knocked me out of the rut.
It would be interesting to know your opinion, do you think Naruto is handsome in appearance? Thank you in advance for the answer.
I hope you are doing well 💕
Hi Nonee 💕
Naruto being “disgusting” or measuring his visual appearance and then deciding if he is attractive or not are entirely different things. The latter, sure, is subjective. It is true that in the Manga, Sasuke is seen as beautiful and handsome, those words are used by other characters, his fangirls, I think Temari takes note of it- even Orochimaru, hence it being one of the reasons the creep wants his body.
Everyone seems to agree except Naruto who is annoyed by it and therefore in denial :’).. why? Well also because Kishimoto made it a point to make Naruto voice it out to Sakura of all characters after constantly comparing him to the “sort of but not really” Sasuke look-a-like Sai. Pfft. Naruto and certainly until 12/13y, unlike Sasuke, is supposed to be messy. His room isn’t necessarily clean let’s just say, his food not of great quality or spoiled and his manners- or what some deem to be “normal” anyway, aren’t always usual. He can be loud and ‘in your face’, and uses a sorta “notice me”-type of speaking that can drive people away. And let’s be honest, I did not see him wash his hands after that diarrhea-fest in Chaper 3… hehe. But that’s normal in these circumstances right? He grew up without proper guidance or caretakers, left alone to take care of himself and quite honestly??! He did amazing imo. When Sakura grumbles about Kakashi being late and she had to rush and so didn’t have time to blowdry her hair that morning, Naruto agrees with the criticism against Kakashi and says he also had to rush, therefore didn’t have time to brush his teeth or wash his face (I think it was that). Sakura scolds him about being gross and Naruto sorta ruffles his unruly mop of hair because he knows. It’s not like he lacks the knowledge at that age or doesn’t care which tbh, says a lot about Naruto then. We see him wear pj’s at night and eat at a table. He puts away his headgear on a cabinet for easy access and it’s not on the floor somewhere. The guy has priorities, always had. When Naruto said he had to pee, even before he does anything, Sakura bitches again telling him to not do it in front of her, a lady, but thinks to herself it would be okay if it was Sasuke because her “inner Sakura”-face said very well what she meant there -_-“ implying that Naruto is the one who is disgusting and not her for desiring to see Sasuke’s… tools. I’m currently re-reading the Manga for my own research and I can’t really think of a moment that truly says “Naruto is disgusting”, he is messy, yes, but I think that is genuinely a part of him that can be appealing and makes logical sense considering his childhood. Just as it makes more than sense that there are spiderwebs and all forming in Sasuke’s home after the death of his family. Entirely different reasons, but it makes sense, yes?
But then also, what do you think training does to these kids? Or anyone for that matter. Running around in nature all day, picking up and throwing Ninja tools which whomever touched before you, left and right, coming into contact with enemies perhaps in close physical contact, blood, sweat- not one of them stays clean. Neither does Sasuke whom also willingly joins a throwing up contest with Naruto during the LoW-arc. At the end of the day, they’re all ‘disgusting’ if you really think about it. And I say that lovingly.
Now Naruto is genuinely the cutest as a kid. Don’t trust anyone who says otherwise. Especially when he makes the -.- face, he’s so confused sometimes omg 🥹 and later as a teenager, I do think Naruto is handsome. Absolutely. Kishimoto was so extra during those waterfall training sessions too lol. Doing the most. The eyeliner, sage-mode visuals… my gosh!! Kyuubi Chakra ears with ripped chain mail clothes and blood and dirt smeared all over him mwhahahaha, remember that panel of him holding his arm? Naruto is fine as hell too. Isn’t that how Karin stans over Sasuke as he loses clothes during battle all the time as well? Even voicing it out as if it wasn’t clear enough…
Hope you’re doing well ^^ have a nice day 🌷💕
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