#underdogs united
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toonabby · 11 months ago
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Happy 49th birthday, Marc Thompson!
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courseyoulovemeyoudontknowme · 10 months ago
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Bolt (2008, Chris Williams and Byron Howard)
28/05/2024
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shape-shenanigans · 1 year ago
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Couple more redraws!! I’ve missed these idiots.
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sparklingcurepeace · 18 days ago
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Cartoons from my childhood part 2 UPDATED:
These lists will now cover cartoons/movies spanning my life up until now, but with a focus on the child and teen years. What I list may not be that obscure either, but I want to share this with you all nonetheless :>).
A Monkey's Tale (yr. 1999)–YALL I THOUGHT THIS MOVIE WAS A DREAM, BUT IT'S REAL. I need to rewatch it.
Life with Jesus (yr. 2004)–the devil in this scared me lowkey lol
The Missing Lynx (yr. 2008)
Khumba (yr. 2013)
Animals United (yr. 2010)
Funan (yr. 2018)–GOOD movie, but definitely more for adults and deals with heavy topics.
Care Bears Movie II: A New Generation (yr. 1986)
Persepolis (yr. 2007)–please read the book.
The Breadwinner (yr. 2017)
Little Nemo: Adventures in Slumberland (yr. 1989)
Ernest and Celestine (yr. 2012)
The Last Unicorn (yr. 1982)
The Lion of Judah (yr. 2011)–Movie was meh, but the message was good–needed better art and direction, honestly
Underdogs (yr. 2013)
A Monster in Paris (yr. 2011)
Leap! (yr. 2017)
Space Chimps (yr. 2008)– I'm unsure if I watched the whole thing
Yellowbird (Gus) (yr. 2014)–I have no clue if I finished this either.
All Dogs Go to Heaven Movies and TV series (yr. Various)
The Balto movies (yr. various)
A good chunk of the Land Before Time movies (yr. Various)
The Secret of NIMH 2: Timmy to the Rescue (yr. 1998)
An American Tail: Fievel Goes West (yr. 1991)
Ferngully: The Last Rainforest (yr. 1992)
The Great Mouse Detective (yr. 1986)
Osmosis Jones (yr. 2001)–LOL I know people know this, but with the way it stayed trapped in my head, I am putting it down.
Torchlighters: The Perpetua Story (yr. 2009)– Don't remember all the details, but it was interesting enough that I do want to explore the martyrs/saints.
Justin and the Knights of Valor (yr. 2013)
Ben-Hur (yr. 2003)–I didn't finish, but I liked it enough to continue it again!
Testament: The Bible in Animation: Jonah (yr. 1996)–this Jonah freaked me out, lol
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anarchic-miscellany · 1 year ago
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It's only a small thing, but it's stuck with me: I fucking love Colonel Mace in "Doctor Who". The stuffy, generally nice UNIT military man whom The Doctor was quite dismissive and dickish towards, who got consistently sidelined and belittled as an idiot against the Sontarans, only to have that fucking baller move of approaching the enemy with a pistol, and caling out: "Turn and face me!" to the Sontaran commander who was ignoring him because (despite all their talk of "honorable conquest", funny that) he had deactivated all of the guns they had; who did so promptly to get capped twice in the face by this straight-faced gangster son of a bitch, who survived the episodes and is presumably chilling in order to take the weight off his massive balls. No wonder the lady from "Hellboy" kissed him at the end. Been 16 years and that dude is still my highlight of post-McCoy "Doctor Who". That show's great when it's about ordinary, smaller people steppnig up to do the best thing.
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uniteds · 6 months ago
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it’s so funny seeing the likes of real madrid, bayern, city etc call themselves underdogs. what do you mean your squad that costs the value of a small country’s gdp is an underdog?
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moonymode · 11 months ago
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actually do you ever EVEN think about the connotations of remus's japery during the boggart lesson. snape in mrs. longbottom's clothes. man with magic hiv teaching kids how to defeat the evil fear creature that lives in the literallllll closet. and he says neville would you please put this man who is trying to out my socially loaded condition with all of its various implications, in DRAG. yes thank you, for the class :)
#when ppl are like ''jkr kind of accidentally wrote remus to be gay''#bro she wrote the word f***** on a brick and threw it through his windshield#hp#remus lupin#txt#it's fascinating to read into this more deeply if you think about how purposeful this was on remus's part like diegetically#like on a surface level remus is encouraging the class to laugh at the idea of a man in a dress#he suggested it knowing the concept is precedent for ridicule. knowing the class would laugh and exactly why they're laughing#you could read into this as remus weaponizing snape's prejudices (which are aimed at remus) against him#which i think is mostly accurate#most unflatteringly you can read it as remus throwing his own community on the sword just to punk on snape#but for me the fact that this lesson is about combating fear specifically is rlly crucial#it makes me inclined to view this choice in a kinder light (DIEGETICALLY. we know what the author thinks of ''''men'''' in dresses :/)#even the decision to uplift the underdog of the class (the subject of most mocking laughter) seems deliberate#so you're encouraged to laugh at snape-in-drag but only insofar as you stop FEARING snape-in-drag#which in the end serves to unite the room (including those on the outskirts like neville and remus)#and to subconsciously link snape-in-drag to a minimized threat. perhaps even as an active IMPROVEMENT of real snape#remus to snape in the teacher's lounge after snape unsubtly threatens to pour out his wolfsbane potion:#''you were briefly more loved as a shallow mockery of the very thing you hate me for. than you have been or ever will be as yourself''#ANYWAY. joke in the post thesis in the tags amiright#i could write more on jkr's possible intentions vs what is written and how that impacts my view of remus's character#but uh that feels silly to do. in the tags of my post about snape in drag
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rafecameronssl4t · 3 months ago
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I need to see reader calming Rafe down during a meltdown in a match and maybe she’s being firm and like telling him to stop and listen to her and to calm down and he shuts up because reader can get scary when mad lol 😂
Fault lines || Tennis player!Rafe Cameron x fem!reader
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A/n: wag!reader stands on business 😙
Warnings: none
Word count: 1,441
MASTERLIST (tennis player!rafe au masterlist)
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The sun hung heavy over Sydney’s Ken Rosewall Arena, and the crowd’s energy buzzed like static electricity. Team USA’s match in the United Cup had been one of the most anticipated games of the tournament, but all eyes were on Rafe Cameron. Not just because he was one of the best players on the circuit, but because his temper had become almost as famous as his forehand.
Today, the storm brewing inside Rafe was palpable. He was down a set and struggling to keep up in the second. The opponent, an unseeded underdog from Russia, was playing like a man possessed, returning every shot with precision that only fueled Rafe’s growing frustration. The boiling point came during a controversial call.
“Are you serious? That was in!” Rafe shouted, his voice echoing across the court. The crowd’s murmurs turned to gasps. His face was red with anger as his hands rest on his hips, his chest rising and falling rapidly. The chair umpire remained stoic, unmoved by the outburst. “Out. No let, Mr. Cameron,” the umpire announced, his calm voice doing nothing to quell the fire in Rafe’s eyes.
Rafe strode to the net, pointing furiously at the spot where he was convinced the ball had landed. “Are you blind? It literally hit the fucking line!” The umpire’s expression didn’t falter. “Warning for Mr. Cameron, please return to your position.” Rafe’s jaw clenched, his grip on the racquet so tight his knuckles turned white. “This is bullshit!” he bellowed, his voice cutting through the tense silence as he stormed toward the baseline.
With unrestrained fury, he slammed the racquet against the ground—once, twice, three times—until a deafening fourth strike splintered it into shards of graphite. The crowd gasped collectively, shock rippling through the stands as fragments scattered across the court. “Unbelievable!” Rafe yelled, tossing the mangled remains aside before stalking toward the Team USA bench, his frame vibrating with unspent anger.
His teammates and coach looked uneasy, unsure whether to intervene or let him vent. In the vip seats behind Team USA’s area, you sat with your arms crossed, your sharp gaze fixed on Rafe’s theatrics. Rafe threw himself onto the bench, oblivious to the camera following him as he mutters curses under his breath, ripping open a new racquet from his bag, his jaw clenched so tightly.
From your vantage point, you leaned forward, resting your arms on the barrier in front of you. You could feel the heat of his frustration from where you sat, and you knew he needed someone to pull him out of his spiral before he self-destructed.“Rafe!” you called down, your voice cutting through the murmurs of the crowd and the chaos on court. He looked up, his brow furrowed, still fuming. “What?”
You didn’t flinch, meeting his glare with the same intensity. “You need to calm down. Right now.” His lips curled into a frustrated sneer. “Are you serious right now? Did you see that call? It was bullshit!” “I don’t care about the call,” you snapped, your tone sharper than the sun’s glare. “You’re embarrassing yourself. Stop acting like a child.”
Rafe blinked, letting out an exhale. The crowd had gone quiet, all eyes were on the exchange. Even the cameras were trained on the two of you, capturing every moment of the heated conversation. “I’m not—” he started, but you cut him off. “Be the bigger person,” you demanded, your voice low but commanding.
“Do you think smashing your racquet and yelling at the umpire is going to change the call? Get your head in the game.” Rafe leaned closer, his voice lowered but still defiant. “You don’t get it. That point—” “I do get it,” you interrupted, narrowing your eyes. “What I don’t get is why you’re wasting energy on this instead of focusing on winning.”
“And now you’re handing the momentum to him on a silver platter,” you shot back, your voice firm but quiet. “Do you think your opponent cares about the call? He’s focusing on the next point while you’re sitting here sulking like a brat.” His jaw worked as he struggled to find a retort, but before he could, you leaned in even closer.
“Screw your head back in, Rafe,” you hissed, your words like ice water on a fire. “And get back out there. Now.” The way you said it left no room for argument. He stared at you, the fire in his eyes dimming slightly as your words sank in. Finally, he sighed, running a hand through his hair. “You’re really not letting me off the hook, are you?”
“Not a chance,” you replied, leaning back slightly but keeping your gaze locked on his. “Now shut up, get your head in the game, and play like the champion I know you are.” A flicker of something—respect, maybe even a little fear—crossed his face. He nodded, more to himself than to you, before standing and grabbing his racquet.
As he walked back onto the court, he glanced back at you over his shoulder. You raised an eyebrow, silently daring him to argue again. He didn’t. The crowd began murmuring again, their attention shifting back to the match. But you stayed still, arms crossed, shaking your head in exasperation. The cameras, however, lingered on you for a few more seconds, capturing your unimpressed expression as Rafe got into position to serve.
The commentators couldn’t resist. “Well, that was quite the reaction from Y/n,” one said, chuckling. “I don’t think Rafe’s girlfriend approved of that outburst,” the other added. “And who could blame her? That’s another fine coming his way.” The match resumed, and while Rafe’s temper was still simmering beneath the surface, your words seemed to have had the desired effect.
He channeled his frustration into his game, hitting with renewed focus and precision. Each shot landed with a ferocity that made the crowd gasp, and slowly but surely, he clawed his way back into the set. When he finally won the second set in a tiebreak, the crowd erupted into cheers. Rafe allowed himself a small smile, glancing toward your seat in the stands.
The third set was a masterclass. Rafe played like a man possessed, leaving no room for error. By the time he won the match with a blistering ace, the crowd was on its feet, applauding his comeback. As the players shook hands at the net, the commentators couldn’t help but bring up the earlier exchange.
“Well, it looks like Rafe Cameron had some help keeping his cool today,” one of them quipped. “I’d say his girlfriend’s pep talk worked wonders.” Back on the sidelines, Rafe grabbed his bag and towel, his eyes landing on you. When he reached you, he leaned against the barrier, his expression a mix of sheepishness and irritation. “Happy now?” he asked, his tone teasing but softer than before.
You tilted your head, pretending to consider. “I’ll be happy when you stop smashing racquets.” “Fair,” he admitted, glancing down at the broken one still lying near the bench. “I guess I owe you for that.” “You owe me a lot more than that,” you replied, your smirk turning into a genuine smile.
As the crowd began to disperse, you sat back in your seat, finally allowing yourself a small smile. Rafe might be a handful, but if anyone could handle him, it was you. And judging by the camera footage that was already going viral, the world was quickly realising the same thing.
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theflashjaygarrick · 9 months ago
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So you've heard about the DC Absolute Universe and you're wondering what it is all about.
While details about Absolute DC is still coming out, I decided it might be useful to make a breakdown of what we know so far (mostly from SDCC).
DC Absolute Universe Breakdown:
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The Absolute universe is a new alternate universe influenced by Darkseid energy. It is a 'darker' universe where all the heroes have lost something key to their Earth 0 selves which leaves them as underdogs. While separate to the main universe it will link in through the events of the All In initiative. There doesn't seem to be many superhero teams yet, but a lot of iconic heroes have had their own solo series' announced:
Absolute Batman (By Scott Snyder and Nick Dragotta):
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The series brave enough to ask...what if Batman was an absolute unit. This is a Batman with no money and no status as the Prince of Gotham. Instead he is a construction worker and city engineer who has turned himself and his costume into an absolute weapon. He has an adorable French Bulldog and is also apparently blonde.
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This Bruce Wayne never had a butler but there still is an Alfred in the Absolute Universe: Alfred "Penny", the grizzled and tired MI-6 spy. They seemingly meet for the first time when Bruce has already began his caped crusade against crime (and the series' confirmed big bad Black Mask)
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Bonus: The Jim Lee variant cover gives us a better look at his costume's armoured texture and one of his weapons. He's seemingly more of a heavy hitter than the Batman we know.
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Absolute Wonder Woman (By Kelley Thompson and Hayden Sherman):
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This Wonder Woman was raised not in Paradise Island but rather in The Underworld. She has no sisters and no quest for peace. Instead she is the last of the Amazons who becomes a warrior and a witch, and eventually the Absolute Universe's first superhero. She is more heavily armed, carries a massive sword, and flies around on a skeletal pegasus made of iron.
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Unlike her Earth counterpart who is notable for not wearing a mask, this Wonder Woman seemingly has two, including a rather demonic looking helmet. Also, her colour scheme is based less on the American flag and more on the idea of lava under rocks.
She also has a Jim Lee variant cover which suggests she also will have a lasso.
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Absolute Superman (By Jason Aaron and Rafa Sandoval):
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Superman is the member of the trinity we know the least about. He is supposed to be more alien (suggested by his glowing red arms and the fact the cape seems to be made of pure energy) and according to the solicitation is "Without the fortress... without the family... without a home" but honestly we don't know much more.
We do have some cool art though (including another Jim Lee Variant):
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Absolute Green Lantern (By Al Ewing and Jahnoy Linsday)
Absolute Green Lantern is a "first contact" story and "reimagining" of the Green Lantern mythos featuring Jo Mullein, Hal Jordan, and John Stewart. We have some cool concept art of it including a redesign of Jo that suggests the lanterns might be in civilian clothing illuminated green.
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Absolute Flash (By Jeff Lemire and Nick Robles)
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This is the book we know the least about. All we really can infer apart from the creative team is that the Flash is presumably Wally West and that he appears to be more tortured character than in most other iterations.
(Shout out to Bleeding Cool for posting photos of the SDCC slides for people who weren't there)
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toonabby · 17 days ago
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Alternative English dub cast for Underdogs United
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Basically a long time ago, I've learned that not only was there a show in Argentina called Underdogs United, but there's an English dub of it as well. Around that time, I had no clue who the cast for the dub was until I stumbled across a reunion video on Vimeo (don't ask) and learned who the cast was: Ryan Nicolls as Capi, Monique Gabriel as Emma, Grace Choi as Gigi, Jeremy Levy as Kiko, Jason Yudoff as Beto, and Marc Thompson as Worst, as well as several other characters.
However, I made this chart before it was revealed, so narrowly, very narrowly, I based the voices for the characters from other characters from other media with vaguely similar sounding voices. After the reveal, I pushed this drawing/meme to the wayside, hoping to never reforge it knowing it's outdated.
HOWEVER, when I revisited this chart years later, I realized this worked better as an "alternate scenario" voice cast, i.e. if Mundoloco or the dubbing studio chose to dub it in Los Angeles or Texas as opposed to New York. So here it would look:
Capi - Zach Aguilar (Aether from Genshin Impact)
Emma - Anairis Quinones (Nessa from Pokemon: Twilight Wings)
Kiko - Greg Cipes (Beast Boy from Teen Titans and Teen Titans Go!)
Gigi - Abby Espiritu (Romin Kassidy from Yu-Gi-Oh! SEVENS; funnily enough, Gigi's ACTUAL voice actor, Grace Choi, voiced a character in SEVENS, that being Rayne Nanahoshi)
Beto - Jacob Wilson (Raen from The Divine Speaker; he doesn't have that much voice roles compared to the others, and unfortunately as of 2025 he doesn't seem to be active online anymore)
Waldobert Worst - Michael Malconian (Niru from AFK Arena: Just Esperia Things; it is worth mentioning that I've HEARD Worst's voice before finding out his VA, but it took me longer to realize it was indeed Marc Thompson)
The Underdogs United are property of Mundoloco CGI.
This template belongs to AleximusPrime on DeviantArt: https://www.deviantart.com/aleximusprime/art/Voice-Actor-Meme-template-834687491
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Bolt (2008, Chris Williams and Byron Howard)
27/10/2024
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niqhtlord01 · 8 months ago
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Humans are weird: Human cameramen are crazy
( Please come see me on my new patreon and support me for early access to stories and personal story requests :D https://www.patreon.com/NiqhtLord Every bit helps)
The greatest decision Intergalactic Wave 6 ever made was hiring Reggie Bradford.
At the time of Finch’s hiring IW6 was a relatively small news organization based in the outer worlds. Barely reaching four systems on a good day compared to the top contenders like Celestial Times which was broadcasted in inner core systems and pulled in an average of twenty to thirty systems each broadcast. The anchors for IW6 were locals, a Temrelien that needed a third grade translator unit just to be barely understood and a Myporie which couldn’t see the color green.
As the underdog’s underdog, IW6 more often fed off larger stories reported by other stations or small local stories relevant to a handful of worlds.  Nothing interesting happened in their corner of the universe so as long as they broke even they were fine to never reach further than the length of their arm.
Reggie Bradford was a hired on as a cameraman to work for one of the planetary studios on Orbin VIII. You’d find him either working in the back making sure the camera bots were functioning or, more often, when they weren’t he’d be manning the forty pound cameras himself. The studio crews were always amazed how this seemingly out of shape man could heft the heavy outdated camera unit like it was as light as a pen.
They wondered what a lone human was doing so far out in the boonies as he would say, but he would always shrug and say that he felt like this is where he belonged; a notion IW6 would be most grateful for in the coming days.
When the Intherax/Coalition war broke out it was the biggest news story to hit the plasma streams since the death of Empress Karen III when she was eaten by her own corganai.
The Intherax were a militaristic society, trained from birth to kill before anything else, and spanned some fifty star systems not including client kingdoms and vassals. General galactic dealings with them often boiled down to standing aside from whatever they wanted and hoping it wasn’t you or your world, lest the invasion armadas would descend and obliterate what little civilization your people had been able to achieve and then be sold into slavery.
This time however when the Intherax made a proclamation to annex the colony worlds of Jense, Shatu’a, and New Hamburg the current occupants politely told them to bugger off and formed a Coalition for mutual defense. From there dozens of governing powers flocked to the coalition and added their strength to it in what they saw as the best chance of finally checking Intherax aggression once and for all.
Ever one for a challenge, the Interax declared war on this new found coalition and opened the conflict by orbital bombarding Jense until it was little more than a cold husk of rock trapped in the decaying orbit of its system’s sun.
What followed was best described as two sides of no holds bar warfare as the Coalition retaliated with the first ever invasion of Intherax territory against the world called Kai’de.
Naturally every news organization wanted to be seen covering the war, including IW6. Sadly they did not have anyone either brave enough to send so they settled on sending someone they believed was stupid enough and sent Reggie.
They expected to get some b-roll of soldiers marching or shots of fleet warships in formation. They never expected nor asked him to go into active combat. So when the first feed came back during their late night broadcast they were surprised to see that Reggie was onboard an assault ship breaking through atmosphere.
“Reggie,” the Temrelien spoke with every other word shifting tone from the broken translator, “where are you?”
“I’m currently with brave members of the 27th Dragoons as they head to take the fight to the surface of Kai’de.”
Reggie waved a hand at the soldiers who in turn gave a rousing cheer and slammed their feet against the metal decking.
“Orders came in late last night for a massed landing to take the enemy by surprise. From what I understand the Intherax military had not expected coalition forces to invade their territory and have not had time to establish proper defenses.”
Both news anchors looked at each other in confusion.
“If that’s the case isn’t this broadcast putting the entire attack at risk?”
To their surprise Reggie laughed as the camera shook.
“The plan was to get them by surprise, but judging from the amount of anti-air fire,” he said as the assault ship rocked back and forth, “I don’t think they were fooled.”
The camera panned right suddenly as one of the armored dragoons grabbed it and spoke directly into it.
“We want them to know we’re coming! Because we’re going to kill them all!! AHAHAHAH!!”
Another chorus of cheers and whoops came from the soldiers as the soldier let go of the camera and Reggie readjusted it. The anchors wanted to continue their questions when the leader of the dragoons shouted out and interrupted them.
“60 seconds!”
With the order given the soldiers stopped their foolery and began hefting their weapons. Reggie panned the camera over them as they slapped in fresh clips or attached power cables from their backpack generators to their more heavy weaponry.
In awestruck silence the anchors and their viewers watched as the assault shuttle slammed hard into the surface and the boarding ramp flew open.
“GO GO GO GO!!!!” the dragoon leader shouted as the soldiers poured out screaming their battle cries. Reggie waited and filmed them as they disembarked but did not join the first out the ramp. A inclination that saved him as enemy gun fire began raking the ramp striking several soldiers down in clouds of viscera and gore.
The censors barely had time to cut the feed while the horrified anchors composed themselves to resume the broadcast.
In the hours that followed IW6 confirmed that Reggie had survived the battle and had been with the unit of dragoons for the entire duration. During those hours he had recorded the entire engagement from ramp down, to storming city streets as the Intherax deployed building sized walkers, to the hoisting of the coalition flag over the central governing building at the heart of the city.
With this footage viewership numbers for IW6 skyrocketed overnight as none of the other networks had been able to capture such stunning footage. In fact, by the intake of broadcasts none of them had been able to attach an anchor or cameramen to the initial assault save for Reggie. When asked how he had been able to get approved for such a deployment he did not say which only further added to the mystery. Yet for the moment IW6 was far from ready to look a gift horse in the mouth.
Reggie’s footage was shown over and over on IW6 and was soon sublicensed to other networks and shown there. Exploits of the dragoons became known galaxy wide as Reggie followed them through battle after battle; never afraid to risk his life to capture the perfect moment.
When the Intherax fleet arrived in orbit and began to bombard the planet while also fighting the coalition fleet Reggie had forgone sheltering in nearby bunker complexes to film the orbital strikes as they hurtled down all around them.
Thick columns of pure energy shattered buildings and mountains alike as the ground quaked and there stood a lone Reggie filming it all. Even when the anchors begged him to find shelter he simply panned the camera over the city to show entire skyscrapers be reduced to molten mounds the oozed and sludged through the city streets.
By the time the battle had finally ended thanks to Reggie’s footage IW6 climbed the viewership charts to be the third most watched network galaxy wide. Much to the dismay of IW6 it also drew the attention of Reggie the cameraman to the other outlets who began showering him with ever more lavish offers for employment.
Too their surprise he denied them all and said that he was right where he belonged.
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mysunshinetemptress · 9 months ago
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I Hate Her
Leah Williamson x reader Warnings: None
You had played as a centre back since you were six years old and asked to play on the Under 10s boys team. Your dream had been set from then, you wanted to play professional you wanted to play for England.
You sign your first academy contract for Manchester United a year later but continue to play for your local team wanting to practice and play as much as you could in hopes of someday making the England team.
You get a call up to your first youth England squad at 13, to say your excited is an understatement only you spend the entire camp on the bench as Leah Williamson is picked over you to start, the Arsenal academy player, future Arsenal player. Leah stared at you as she walked past the bench "Maybe they'll choose you next time." You decide then and there that you hate her.
United don’t have a women’s team and so you sign with Blackburn Rovers just before your 17th birthday. You love it Blackburn have given you everything you’ve wanted your their starting Centre Back, they see how hard you work and it pays off in the England Youth camps, you make your debut against Spain, Leah’s sick for the debut and you can’t help but repeat that in your head, that’s why your being picked not because ur better.
United form a Women’s team to take part in the championship in 2018 which is perfect for your because your contract with Blackburn Rovers ends and your free to sign with your childhood club in the summer.
It’s Leah’s turn to hate you when instead of joining the U23s camp you get called up to the Senior squad for a camp. You, your on a championship team that only got formed this season, you who has only been chosen over her a handful of times and now Phil Neville thinks your better then her, hardly.
Joining the senior squad felt surreal. Familiar faces like Lucy Bronze and Steph Houghton greeted you with genuine warmth. During training sessions, you pushed yourself to the absolute limit, determined to prove your place wasn't a lucky break. The coaches, Phil Neville included, seemed impressed. They challenged you , tested your tactical awareness, your ability to lead the defense under pressure. It wasn't easy, but you held your own, fueled by that quiet fire within.
One evening, Neville called you into his office. Your heart hammered a frantic rhythm against your ribs. Were you getting sent home? But no, his words were unexpected. "You've got something special, kid," he said, a glint in his eye. "A raw talent, a hunger I haven't seen in a while. We're planning a friendly against Germany next month. Be ready."
News of your potential debut spread like wildfire. Back home, your family erupted in cheers. Blackburn fans were ecstatic, their underdog defender on the cusp of playing on the biggest stage. But the media frenzy was a different story. Headlines screamed "Unproven youngster" and "Neville's gamble." The narrative remained the same - you were the fluke, the temporary blip in Leah's meteoric rise.
That night, staring at the ceiling of your hotel room, a fierce determination took hold. This wasn't just about proving yourself to the coaches or the media. This was about proving it to Leah, to everyone who doubted you. This was about carving your own path, a path that wouldn't be defined by being "better" than Leah Williamson, but by becoming the best damn defender England had ever seen.
You come on against Germany in the 89th minute, you know then and there that u are going to have to fight for your life every time you want to make it on to the pitch for England either over Leah or along side her you will have to fight.
And fight you do.
The following months were a whirlwind. You were in and out of the senior squad, each call-up a hard-fought battle. Leah was a constant shadow, a relentless competitor. You pushed each other to new heights, your growth fueled by the desire to outshine the other.
The 2019 World Cup was on the horizon, and the competition for places was fiercer than ever. You were on the cusp, but the final squad selection was a knife-edge. Days turned into nights as you waited for the dreaded or the desired call. When it finally came, your heart pounded with a mix of joy and disbelief. You were in. But so was Leah.
The World Cup was a dream realized, a tournament that would define careers. You played your part,even it was for less minutes then you would have liked (It was still more than what Leah had been given.) solid in defense, a calm presence in the face of adversity. England's journey was a rollercoaster of emotions, culminating in a heart-stopping final game for third place against Sweden.
The bronze medal match was a bitter pill to swallow. A valiant effort, but ultimately falling short. The weight of the loss hung heavy in the dressing room, a stark contrast to the jubilant scenes from the other side.
You had cursed at yourself in the eleventh minute as Asllani out ran you and sloted the ball past Telford, Steph had come over tapping your back whispering that it was ok it was one goal as Alex and Lucy followed both squeezing your arms as you all walked to reseat, you quickly turn to telford letting out a small sorry, to which she shakes her head sending you a thumbs up before you turn as Ellen White starts the game back up.
You hoped that Asllani's goal would be your one and only but Jakobsson makes a run in the twenty second minute and this time you make sure you catch her running in front of the swedish player you slide infront trying to cut her off but she breaks left and you can do nothing but sit on the ground and watch as she rolls it into the back left corner. You fall back hands covering your face. It's Lucys turn to pick you up "Your trying your best, you corrected your last mistake by being on it more." You shook your head "Yeah but she still scored." Lucy sighed knowing she wasn't going to break through the doubt that was bubbling in your head instead she pulled you into a hug and headed back into position, as you once again turned to Telford who before you could even open your mouth was already shouting at you "It's ok kid, you tried." you dropped your head nodding just as the ref blew the whistle to restart the game.
You came off at half-time for Rachel Daly, you had refused to speak to anyone, you had refused to join in on the celbrations in the thirty-first minute as Fran Kirby scorded but now as you walked down the tunnel you tried to shake all those feeling, you had played in your first World Cup, you had played 45 minutes in a tough match, you were good enough for Phil Neville to think you belonged there.
Those thoughts came crashing down as Leah walked past you hitting into you harshly.
Leah's harsh collision sent a jolt of pain through your already bruised ego. You stumbled backward, your breath catching in your throat. Her eyes, cold and calculating, held a mixture of contempt and something else, a flicker of something you couldn't quite decipher.
You spun around, your face flushed. "What the hell was that for?" you demanded, your voice laced with disbelief.
Leah's eyes narrowed, her expression a mix of defiance and something else you couldn't quite decipher. "You were out of position," she snapped, her voice barely above a whisper in the echoing tunnel. "Two goals down, and you're daydreaming."
The accusation stung, but you refused to back down. "I was trying to cover," you retorted, your voice rising. "It's not like I wanted them to score."
A tense silence fell between you, the only sound the distant cheers of the crowd filtering down the tunnel. You could feel the heat rising to your cheeks, a familiar sensation of being under scrutiny.
"I wouldn't have let them through." You walk towards her your finger poking her chest "Yet he didn't even give you the chance, he chose me over you."
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anarchic-miscellany · 2 years ago
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Terrible Screenplay Idea: "Rollerblade Runner"
Hotshot slick city investor Maxim Carter has been on a winning streak recently for his firm, but a string of PR nightmares have brewed around his last few investments and the firms need to launder their reputation. So this cold, calculating machine decides to back tiny town Brentonville's roller hockey team "The Brentonville Bandits". His investment saves them from being disbanded and the stadium from being bought out by rival team owner Rembrandt Kane, who is furious at this stifling of his plans...
Carter arrives at his investment to find only local girl Angela as the equipment manager, and the only person on site to boot
Carter makes her the manager of the whole team, and this hyperactive ball of energy and DEVOTED lover of the game is both surprised and elated: she has seemingly endless funds and the ability to do what she wants! And she wants to rebuild the team and bring roller hockey to Brentonville!
But Rembrandt Kane pulls some strings and essentially has the team blacklisted, so no legitimate player will join...
Thinking outside of the box, Angela and Carter find a ragtag bunch of misfits:
Celestia Sinclair "Public Enby Number One" is a non-binary ice hockey legend fuelled by rage and energy drinks, recruited to be given the chance to unleash fury upon the pitch. A never ending pain train.
Olivia Kang is a Korean-American ballet legend, with a massive rage problem. Known as "The Bad Girl of Ballet", she recently got into trouble by punching another dancer on stage. Graceful, elegant and furious.
Douglas Boyd is The Roller Disco King of Texas, and he is a slick-talking gambler who has fallen on hard times because people don't like roller discos anymore.
"Miss United Skates" is a roller derby champion suspended for drug use. Lightning fast and a terror on the rink, she will be their star player
Angela's brother Doug, a burnout, will be the goalie.
These ragtag misfits bond over their newfound love of the sport, and Carter begins to see more than success and money when this small town adores the sport. But when his firm demands he flip the team and profit and move on, he must choose...
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sylviaodhner · 22 days ago
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Public Transit Is an Under-Rated Experience
Public transit is the underdog in the United States, and we need to collectively invest in it if it's going to survive. If you agree, I recommend getting involved with transit advocacy groups in your area, like Transit For All PA for fellow Pennsylvanians.
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tuesdayaddamss · 26 days ago
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join the murder; happy lowman.
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part i. history in the making
summary: the sons make a decision that will change the fate of their club.
warnings: misogyny, language.
author’s note: since sins of the father didn’t get updated today like i said it would, here’s this one :,)
word count: 2898
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DAY ONE.
“have you lost your goddamn mind?” to jax’s credit, he doesn’t even flinch at the cutting edge in bobby’s tone, though a lesser man would’ve wilted. it’s impressive, happy can admit, how eerily calm he is in the face of his brothers’ scrutiny. there aren’t many who can stand so tall when put under so much pressure.
not for the first time, their table is divided. split clean in two, it seems, with half of them appalled at the mere thought of what their president is proposing, and the rest, like him, that are, at least, willing to listen. happy can understand their trepidation, the borderline horror. spitting in the face of decades’ of tradition and hard-earned stereotyping isn’t an easy pill to swallow, even for him, but change is as inevitable as it is imminent. and now, with how things have been going for them recently, it’s necessary.
jax believes that if they don’t learn how to ride the tide, the world will move on without them. and happy believes in jackson teller, if in nothing else.
the blonde man at the head of the table smiles, confident and unperturbed. for once, he doesn’t scream to be heard. he doesn’t puff out his chest or gnash his teeth. it’s an assuredness that he has been lacking for a long, long while. “we’ve spent the last forty-five years in this box, brother. it’s startin’ to get a little claustrophobic.”
“so you wanna put a gash in a kutte?” opie chimes in, his face contorted with incredulity, though he’s significantly less hostile than some are being. “what the hell will that do, except give us all a headache?” piney grunts his agreement, scowling as if jax had just suggested assassinating the united states’ president.
“it proves that we can change for the better,” chibs, always raring to defend his jackie-boy, and to advocate for the underdog, steps to the plate. “that we’re more than murderers and criminals. that there’s a point to all of this.”
really, they all have their reasons for being here. for some, like him and the scot, the reaper had saved their lives. opie and jax were born with samcro in their blood. piney, tig, and bobby have been wearing the patch for so long that it’s all they are. and juice, like so many of the prospects that darken their doorstep, had come looking for a family.
that’s what it’s supposed to be about. the brotherhood. living, dying, and killing for the family that they choose. if this girl can, is willing to, do that, happy doesn’t see why they wouldn’t give her a fighting chance.
“oh, c’mon!” frankly, tig’s the last person that should be protesting this. the man broke a hundred unspoken rules when he’d claimed venus van dam, a transgender prostitute, as his ol’ lady. he’s an ornery hypocrite, happy thinks. “almost fifty years, and we have never had a chick patch into any charter, let alone the mother charter. if we do this, it’s gonna cause a goddamn revolt, man.”
as if reading his mind, juice chomps at the bit in a rare display of boldness. “yeah, we never had a venus making us sunday brunch, either.” the withering glare that tig gives him across the table would’ve sent a lesser man to the grave, but the boy holds fast. “no disrespect, i love vee just as much as everyone else, but it ain’t the 70’s no-more. times are changing.”
“this is a charter decision.” jax intervenes, before the two of them can start swinging. “the others can bitch and moan as much as they’d like, but this comes down to us.”
jax would need a unanimous vote to take anyone, especially a woman, on as a prospect, with or without the other charters’ approval. and right now, it doesn’t look like he’s going to get his wish.
“we’re the sons of anarchy! sons!” tig flails his arms so violently that he nearly topples out of his chair, one of his ringed hands clipping happy in the shoulder like an excited child. “back me up, hap!”
all eyes turn to him, and he has to try hard not to bristle. he shrugs noncommittally, acting less bothered than he is, and looks to jax. “can she ride?”
he nods, brows raised, as if surprised that his sergeant at arms is humoring him at all. “can she fight?”
jax grins, like he’d said something funny, and happy figures that it has to do with his suspiciously black eye. “yeah. yeah, she can fight.”
“if she can do that, and if you trust her, i say give it a shot.” tig looks positively mortified, and jax glows with pride. happy merely leans back in his chair and ignores the looks he’s now receiving from both sides of the table. some betrayed, some bewildered.
“just listen,” jax presses his palms to the table, silencing any further protests or arguing before it can even begin. in this moment, he looks so much like the man that he used to be, that it hurts a little bit. the man he was before his baby had been born with his insides outside, before the truth had been told, before his stepfather had betrayed him, and then done it again, and again. before the gavel had corrupted him.
“she has what it takes, i’ve seen it. kitty will be good for this club, for all of us,” he meets each of their eyes in turn, as if willing them to bear the weight of his words. “all i’m asking is that you just give her a chance. no special treatment ‘cause she’s a chick. just another prospect, yeah? she gets a year of probation, proves herself, and then you can decide if i’m fuckin’ nuts. but, i swear to you, she will prove herself.” she has to, for jax’s sake, lest she makes a fool out of him and all of them.
it’s rare to see him so passionate about anything, about anyone, but his vehemence certainly gets their attention. in this room, his word is gospel and law, all in one. when he speaks, they listen. even piney, as set in his ways as he is, falters.
happy pictures the girl waiting outside of the soundproofed doors. she wasn’t anything all that impressive, from what he’d seen — young, scrappy, not anything he could see jax going to war for. and yet, here he is, nearly blue in the face whilst he argues her case. though that in itself is impressive, really, because his favor isn’t easy to earn, and she’d done that and then some.
“where’d you even find this kid?” happy’s raspy voice cuts through the pregnant silence like a bullet, and jax’s smile splits his face from ear to ear, like a little boy on christmas morning.
“she stole my wallet.” he seems abundantly proud of it, though most men would be thoroughly humiliated if they were bested by a girl that’s no more than a hundred pounds soaking wet. you wouldn’t have been able to waterboard that information out of happy. “and then, when i chased her down and tried to get it back, she punched me in the face.” and it just gets better and better. happy’s starting to like this kitty.
anyone that was bold enough to steal from and assault a son had to have balls made of steel. especially from the goddamn president.
“what’s gemma make of it?” jax’s eyes narrow into slits at bobby’s not-so-subtle jab, that anger that they all know and love rearing its head. as much as they all love their matriarch, she could be just as old school as piney is. she’s an opinionated woman, and she likes to make sure that those opinions are known.
“it doesn’t fuckin’ matter what gemma thinks,” he retorts, spitting his mother’s name as if it left a bad taste in his mouth. they must be on the outs again; it’s hard to keep up. “is she sittin’ at this table? no. you don’t ride, you don’t vote.”
the treasurer raises his hands in a show of mock surrender. “just wondering, brother.” they all know how gemma feels about it. or rather, how she will feel about it, since she probably has no clue that it’s happening at all. jax has a tendency to leave her out of the loop.
but he’s right. the women have never had any right, nor reason, to have any say in the club’s decisions. gemma’s only as involved as she is because she’s played ol’ lady to two presidents, and mother to another. the rest of them are kept in the loop merely because they’re loved.
but this would change everything. a woman, sitting at their table, wearing their reaper, standing and fighting with them, having a vote. that is, of course, if she can survive the prospect year. he had witnessed countless men run for the hills after their first two weeks onsite. they’d even had to bury one, once, after he’d intentionally overdosed in the tacoma clubhouse’s bathroom. and it was bound to be even worse for kitty — prospects are at the very bottom of samcro’s food chain as is, treated like dirt in order to ready them, toughen them up, for the life that they’ve signed up for.
she’ll be shoved around and prodded at tenfold the rest of them. and she’ll have to work thrice as hard to prove herself. and that’s just within the club, not even to mention the abuse she’ll be getting from those outside of it. good luck, happy thinks. god knows that she’s going to need it.
jax smacks his palm on the table, drawing them in. “let’s vote it. all in favor of taking kitty on as a prospect?”
“aye!” chibs cheers, his grin mirroring the scars on his cheeks. despite being one of the oldest, and having been with the club for decades, he’s maybe the most progressive. married a black woman, fathered a black baby, and now sticking his neck out for this girl’s sake. he must have been a mama’s boy in his youth — and happy, more than anyone, can respect that.
bobby sighs, staring at the blonde for a long moment, before finally nodding, albeit reluctantly. “aye.” he may be old, cranky, and misogynistic, but he trusts jax enough to set all of that aside.
and opie’s much the same. he’d do anything for the man he’d grown up with, even this. “aye.”
juice beams, eager. “aye.” he had been the victim of their wicked club bylaws, himself. almost thrown out, and nearly forced to turn rat, because his father was black. he’s the last person that would advocate against change.
piney’s the toughest to crack, and happy’s sure that jax had considered this before bringing nic to the table. the old man is huffing and puffing in his chair like he might blow a little pig’s house right down, jaw clenched and fists curled. as one of the first nine, he’d been present when their rulebook was written. he’d been one of the men to vote yes to the ‘no women’ rule. he’s a proud member, and founder, of the she-man-woman-haters club.
but he’s also the one that’s always preaching about what john teller would’ve wanted, about what samcro can, and should, be. and they all know that if jax’s father was here today, he’d be all over this, much like his son is. “aye.” piney grunts. happy sees the thinly veiled relief in jax’s eyes.
it doesn’t take a telepath to know what tig’s thinking, to realize that juice’s words had hit home for the man. if he voted nay, and venus found out, she’d beat him over the head with her gucci purse, and have him sleeping on the couch for a month, minimum. and as many screws as tig trager has loose, he loves his woman, so much so that it’s nauseating, and he’d never blatantly do anything to offend her. “aye.”
“aye.” happy agrees, without hesitation. frankly, he doesn’t give a fuck what she has in her pants, as long as she has what it takes. jax seems to think she does, and he’s never given them a reason to doubt his judgement — well, maybe once or twice, but that’s besides the point.
“aye!” jax slams the gavel down. and just like that, kitty foster has an in. but whilst they’ve voted in her favor, happy knows that it doesn’t mean they’ll act in it. “bring her in.”
chibs jumps to his feet, all joy and humor draining from his face in a split second, just to make her squirm. he shoves the doors open, his voice bellowing through the chapel and the bar, his heavy scottish brogue ricocheting off the walls. “move it, lass! we ain’t got all fuckin’ day!”
kitty appears in the threshold, giving him a wary look as he shoves her unceremoniously in front of the table, though happy can admire how unbothered she seems by the harsh glares she receives from each of them; some genuine, some falsified. if it is a front that she’s putting on, it’s foolproof enough that not even he can see through it.
when he’d first noticed her sitting at the bar, he hadn’t spared her a second glance, not knowing who she was until jax had called church. now, though, he takes the time to look at her. like he’d originally thought, there’s not much about her that stands out; she’s tall, skinny, with a seemingly permanent frown on her face, and a ghostly sort’ve look about her — as if she had never known comfort a day in her life. she’s pretty enough though, he could admit; with pale, untamed curls, and a nice face, though rather guant and severe. he wouldn’t group her in with their croweaters or the caracara girls, but he figures that she gets plenty of attention.
what the fuck she possibly wants to do with a motorcycle club, he can’t even begin to imagine.
tig takes the initiative, starting without prologue, sneering at the girl as if personally offended by her very presence in the chapel. “probationary period lasts one year, minimum, and starts today. after that, if you last that long, we vote whether or not to patch you in.”
“dues are seventy-five dollars on the first of every month,” bobby chimes in. “you don’t pay, you don’t stay.”
she nods along silently, eyes narrowed and jaw ticking, though she seems more contemplative than aggressive.
jax stands then, picking up the kutte, donned with prospect patches, that he’d flung on the table oh-so dramatically when he’d called church. it’s small, suited to a woman, which meant that he’d been planning this for at least a few days if he’d gone and found colors in her size. awfully bold of him, happy thinks, though he chooses not to comment on it. he won’t claim to understand just how the younger man’s mind works.
he shoves the leather into kitty’s hands, and none of the brothers are oblivious to the wordless something that passes between them. “don’t fuck this up.” is all he says, but his tone is heavy.
the look she gives him is as sharp as a knife, somewhere in between amused and incredulous. whatever had happened with them, beyond the petty theft and battery, had been no small thing. they can all see it.
“don’t worry, prez,” she drawls, two parts mocking and one part wicked. it’s the first time happy, or anyone save for jax, has heard her speak. her accent is as thick as molasses, dripping from her tongue like honey. happy assumes that the southern twang had done her quite a few favors in her life. “i’ll make you proud.”
jax scoffs, but his lip twitches into an almost-smile. “put it on.” he orders, and they all hold their breath.
she slings the brand new leather over her back, their reaper coming to rest gently on her toned shoulders. it suits her, even happy has to admit. if the gleam in jax’s eye is anything to go off of, he agrees.
happy braves a glance at his brothers, all of them wearing varying expressions; some, hopeful, and others, bitter. he meets juice’s eye, and the puerto rican grins so hard that he figures it has to hurt his cheeks.
she’s looking at them too, he notices, sizing each of them up in turn. her eyes meet his for half of a second, searching within him for something — animosity, like tig, or approval, like chibs — but happy remains stoic, his facade impenetrable after all of the years he’s spent perfecting it. he thinks that she seems almost amused, as if humored by so many grown men being so very threatened by a chick.
and that’s exactly what they are; piney, opie, bobby, tig. they feel threatened by this woman, and what she will mean for samcro. they’re terrified of what changes her presence here will catalyze.
jax slaps her on the shoulder, looking immensely proud of himself. “welcome to samcro,”
godspeed, happy bids silently, hoping that she’s more than meets the eye — lest his brothers chew her up and spit her out.
but something tells him that they’d only break their teeth if they tried.
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