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#I’m not sorry because I’m right
psymachine · 5 months
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mac: bottom
dennis: eviler bottom who bullies and manipulates him into topping all the time
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featherfur · 6 months
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You ever just get off of work and think about Jiang Cheng and about how random civilians yap on and on about how he’s mean and cruel. Yet for all their rumors and hissed words, Jiang Cheng has a thriving sect that cares deeply for him and is trusted greatly?
Like he was what, 16? When his parents died and he was left alone and traumatized from the Wen’s torture and his brother was missing and his sister was hidden away for her safety. And he marched across the land and was so charismatic, so capable, so full of confidence (fake or otherwise) that cultivators who had no reason to trust or give a damn about him, where willing to follow him through war.
There’s so many rumors flying around about him being this nasty cruel man, yet his sect is filled with people who go rushing after him. Who have faith in him when he says not to say anything about his claim of Mo Xuanyu being WWX. Who are trusted by Jin Ling, who adores his uncle so much, to watch Zidian and return it to him. Who willingly skip around after Jin Ling in fake Jin robes to watch for him.
That’s not a sect that’s under a cruel and harsh leader. That’s not a sect that fears their leader. Jiang Cheng couldn’t have gotten where he is, if he was half of what the rumors say he is. He can be ruthless, yes, but when he loves he loves so fucking deeply. And by the fact of the sheer number of people who joined his sect and raised their kids under his protection, it’s so clear that that love extended to his new sect.
Anyways the secret to Jiang Cheng is that he loves and loves and loves and loves.
And loves.
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redhotarsenic · 7 months
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THE STORM IS ABOUT TO RAGE!!
(for the lovely @nowfallc)
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redkelpfish · 1 year
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Jason Todd is a damn good example of how superheroes can’t be parents. I’m not saying heroes should be forbidden from having children, but the moment you do, you choose one or the other. You either cease to be a hero or you must fundamentally fail your child.
Because that’s the basis of being a parent—choosing your child. Day in and day out, no matter what. There is no bigger picture, no greater good. Between a bus full of people and your kid, your kid has to count on you to be the one person in the world who would let the bus fall. A hero can’t do that. A hero shouldn’t do that.
Jason Todd so desperately wanted Bruce, his father, the one person he needed to let the bus fall. But Bruce had chosen “hero” two decades ago, and there was no room for Jason Todd, son. So Jason Todd, Robin died a martyr with no one left to carry the cause. An unfortunate casualty. He came back as the only thing left, the only version of Jason Todd that a clown didn’t beat to death in warehouse in Ethiopia. Jason Todd, son. And there was no father. He kept reaching and reaching and there should have been something to meet him. But Bruce Wayne was a hero. And Jason Todd was a son.
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ittybitsysword · 3 months
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My favorite flowers are Night Orchids, and I don’t know how to swim.
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a-polite-melody · 2 months
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“Maybe the people who sent the anons were trolls, but the transandrodorks are defending the sentiment so actually…”
Are the “transandrodorks” defending that transmisogynistic copypasta in the room with us? Or are you just upset that trans men/mascs are speaking up and saying we aren’t okay with being labeled as untrustworthy because of there being an anon copypasta and simply our being trans men/mascs?
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pnsmacbeth · 29 days
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if there are zero Amber from Invincible defenders i am dead. i love Amber from Invincible and if that means i can’t look in the Reddit threads so be it. Amber they don’t know you like i do.
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finntheehumaneater · 15 days
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these dirt roads are empty, the ones we paved ourselves (part 2)
part one (important note under the cut)
The Hell-thingy club was held in the theater room, Steve learned. There was a paper sign over the door that wasn’t there this morning. It was very detailed, with no white space, kind of making it hard to look at. 
Hard to look at, but pretty.
He was going to knock—maybe ask around and see if anyone knew a girl named Eddie, but the door burst open and a girl stumbled out, sobbing into her hands. She had long black hair that was up in a bun and painted nails, and she nearly bumped into Steve, but he flattened himself against the wall so that she could pass.
“Katie,” a voice called, and a boy with long curly hair rushed out, his hand grabbing at her waist to turn her around. The girl (Katie?) shook her head, pressing it into the boy’s neck as she cried. She was a bit taller than him, but Steve guessed it was only because of her boots.
Steve felt a bit awkward standing there, just watching as the boy ran a hand over her back, the other holding her waist. “It’s okay, Kate, we’ll—I’ll watch Sarah. Okay? I’ll watch Sarah for you.”
“I should have to watch her, she’s—“ 
“Stop it,” the boy whispered, tugging her into a proper hug. “Stop it, babe, I’ll watch her.”
“Don’t need you to, I’ll just miss it,” The girl sobbed into the boy’s shoulder as he swayed her back and forth. It felt too personal for Steve to be witnessing, and he wanted to try and quietly slip into the theater room, but he was afraid that if he moved he would ruin their moment.
“You won’t miss it, I’ll watch her,” The boy murmured, pulling away and nodding slightly. “She likes me, it’ll be fun.”
“But she’s little,” the girl tried to protest, her voice weak and shaky.
“I know she’s little, hun, I was there when you had her,” the boy pointed out softly, smiling as he took her hands in his. His skin was white where her fingers were gripping it. “I’m like basically her dad, I’ll watch her for you.”
The girl hesitated, before shrugging and looking down. She glanced over at Steve, her cheeks flushed as she shrank into herself slightly, looking down.
“You go back in and tell Jeff I’ll be there in a minute,” the boy said to her, kissing her forehead and gently pushing her in the direction of the theater room door. “I’m gonna say hi to our friend, here.”
“Hey, sweetheart,” the boy grinned as he turned to Steve, his eyes flicking over to the door as it closed before he looked Steve over. “Enjoy the show?”
“I didn’t—“ Steve started, even though he didn’t really know what to say, but the guy cut him off.
“Is there…anything I can help you with?” He asked with faux politeness, and Steve went to grab for his backpack, maybe to grab the notebook and give it to the man—he could ask him to give it back to the girl who had dropped it—when he paused. He didn’t really trust the guy to give it back.
“Just um, wanted to look into the club,” he lied quickly, dropping his hands back at his sides, hating how they felt so useless and awkward just being there, not doing anything. “Hey, is there a, uh, a girl named Eddie in there?”
“Nope,” the guy said, crossing his arms. “I’m the only Eddie in this club. And—hold on, you wanted to look into Hellfire?”
“Hellfire, what...” Steve paused, squinting and looking back up at the paper sign above the door. His head hurt. “Oh, uh. Yeah. Yeah, sure. Right.”
“Okay,” The guy said, slowly. No, Eddie said slowly. This guy was also an Eddie. Cool. “Are you sure you’re not here to be an asshole? Because, look man, respect your jock urge to fuck up us nerds, but like—this is kinda all I have right now, so just—if you’re not actually interested then please leave. I can’t lose this right now, too.”
“I, okay, maybe I’m not interested, but my girlfriend’s little brother likes whatever you do in there….”
“Dungeons and Dragons?” Eddie cut in, tilting his head, which really added to his whole pathetic-cat-vibe.
“Uh, yeah, sure. That,” Steve muttered, shaking his head. “They like it, so maybe you could just—show me how it works. Might help me get him to like me or something.”
Eddie rolled his eyes, tapping his hand against his thigh, and Steve caught sight of a ring on his middle finger, a thin silver one with blue in the middle. “Fine. Sure. Come on in.” He raised an eyebrow though as he stepped back, holding a hand out to Steve when he went to take a step forward though. “If you’re a dick to Gareth I’ll fucking kill you, though.”
“Okay,” Steve said, narrowing his eyes slightly. This kid didn’t look like he could kill him. Probably just throw dice at him and annoy him. Bite his ankles, maybe, he was kind of short.
Eddie opened the door to the theater room, giving Steve a mock bow, his hair falling into his face as his lips pulled into a dry smile. “After you, princess.”
Steve flushed at the name, opening his mouth to protest, saying something like, I’m not a girl, but he just rolled his eyes and went inside. It was really hard to be nice to this guy, but he was going to try. Besides, he had to go along with the lie that he was here to learn about Dungeons and Dragons. For Mike. Even though Mike didn’t like him. And, to be honest, Steve didn’t really like Mike either, but his friends were okay.
The room was dark, a couple of lamps lit but the overhead light off. There was a long table, a throne sitting at one end and a stool at the other with normal chairs on the sides. Eddie motioned for Steve to sit on the stool. The people on the chairs all turned to look at him, and he shrunk down slightly, his backpack held tightly in his lap.
“Hey,” a curly haired boy said hesitantly, and Steve saw Eddie’s eyes linger on him for a second too long, his expression nice and soft like it was with the girl from outside who was staring down at her lap, her eyes still red.  
“Hey,” Steve whispered back, offering a small smile. Everyone in here looked scared of him, and that made him feel even more nervous. “I’m uh, I’m Steve.”
“We know,” Gareth said, his cheeks a bit pink. “I—I know, we’ve bumped into each other before.”
Steve smiled slightly, tilting his head. “We did?”
Gareth frowned, shrugging. “It wasn’t a good bumping into.”
“Oh,” Steve whispered softly as Eddie started to talk. “I’m sorry, I didn’t—“
“Hey, Harrington,” Eddie snapped, glaring again. “If you came here to learn about D&D you’ve gotta listen, man.”
Steve nodded, glancing at Gareth one last time before sitting up in his seat a bit more and trying to look as focused as possible. If he just paid attention he could leave and then find the girl he was looking for tomorrow.
But Eddie wasn’t very good at teaching things. He went over things too quickly, muttering something about how Steve’s head must be filled with so much ‘stupid sports shit’ so he couldn’t concentrate. Steve felt like Eddie was using long words on purpose, ones that he knew Steve wouldn’t understand.
Steve dug his fingers into his thighs, sucking in a deep breath as Eddie went on and on about hit points, a few people butting in to say something but he waved them off. “I don’t—don’t understand—“
“Maybe just fucking listen, then?” Eddie said tightly, giving Steve a strained smile. “Okay, sweetheart?”
“I am listening,” Steve protested, starting to feel a bit pissed off. He wanted to go home with Nancy, he was tired of fucking sitting there. “It’s just—I don’t understand what all of this means, and you’re going way too fast for me to—“
“Go, then,” Eddie said, and Steve fell quiet, looking back up from where he had been focusing on a little figurine.
“What?”
“Go,” Eddie said, his gaze hard and challenging. “If I’m so bad at explaining this, then fucking go.”
Steve say the girl from the hallway shoot Eddie a look out of the corner of his eyes, but Eddie didn’t seem to notice.
“Fine,” Steve whispered, embarrassment creeping up his cheeks as he grabbed his backpack and stood up, the chair falling backwards and hitting against the floor. He flinched. The lights in the room flickered and he took a step back, trying to calm down. It’s just a stupid fucking noise, it shouldn’t scare him. He’s not supposed to be scared of flashing lights.
“Bye,” he whispered to Gareth, pinching at the bridge of his nose for a second as he tried not to cry. This was all so stupid. “It was nice to officially meet you.”
“Yeah,” Gareth muttered, shifting in his seat uncomfortably.
“Bye, sweetheart,” He heard Eddie call as he slammed the door shut, condescending and mean.
Fuck him, he was going to go and find Nancy.
hey guys. Sorry this update took so long to do, and that’s it’s short. I haven’t been doing to great, and now with that stupid fucking post that puppy-steve made about me I don’t know when my mental state is going to get better—or when I will be updating next.
All of my friends and mutuals in here are unfollowing me and blocking me because of that post, and I haven’t stopped crying all morning. I feel like shit. If I am a minor that is my own business and no one else’s, but I think going as far is to make up lies about me ignoring DMs to stop interacting with people is too fucking far.
I’ll try to update this sooner but I feel like everyone hates me at the moment so I don’t know how soon it will be. Sorry.
taglist (I hope I got everyone 🩷):
@himbosandhardware
@randombibitch
@eddie4bat-president 
@steddiewithachance
@jadeylovesmarvelxo
@precioussteveharrington
@magpiemuseum
@here4thetrama
@estrellami-1
@goodolefashionedloverboi
@anne-bennet-cosplayer
@cherrychapsticksteve
@somegirlsomewhere
@letgomaggie
@myguiltyartpleasure
@theemptinessthatweconfess
@kennahjune
@onemoore
@shessofineliterallyhitmewithacar
@marismorar
@gobbledy-gluk-gluk
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squuote · 7 months
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rereading 17776 rn and noticing that Nine’s hesitance to accept their new reality is something I didn’t fully take in before. Like a majority of their concerns are all focused on the idea of purpose, which actually makes a lot of sense for them to solely be hooked on that specific concern. Nine was built with the intent of space exploration and to help humans achieve that goal. Being thrown into a reality where that purpose has essentially died and doesn’t really exist anymore would be very alarming for someone whose whole reason of existence is that specific thing. Nine’s arc of acceptance in existence so to speak. sorry I’m probably last to get to this but man it just hit me like a ton of bricks
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m1d-45 · 1 year
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You know, I've been thinking. The stars in our world often look quite dim, especially in areas where there is light pollution. Suddenly, I'm imagining that in the Imposter!AU, the Creator looks at the stars at night, captivated by their brilliance. Perhaps Scaramouche or Mona (Whichever you prefer, you may also just write another character you think fits this scenario :D) find them. The Creator looks at them, then back at the stars.
"They're very lovely, you know? The stars never shine this brightly back home. It's a lovely sight..."
They smile. "I'm happy that I'm able to see them, even if it's in another world. I appreciate you letting me look at them before I die."
Perhaps the character takes pause... And sits next to them.
It's a lovely night.
in the stars
word count: ~1k
-> warnings: violence, blood, both of those in your future so technically you’re not hurt yet, not written for mona mains, sorry, didn’t work with the plot :/ also diona/klee/qiqi/nahida/sayu mains are on thin ice with this one. questionable plot. barely edited.
-> lowercase intended
taglist: @samarill || @thenyxsky || @valeriele3 || @shizunxie
< masterlist >
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the stars never lie.
mona clutches her catalyst to her chest, wide eyes turned to the sky. she whispers to them, hoping they’ll change, shift into something she’ll understand, anything.
they don’t.
her head lowers, inspecting the book. thrilling tales, the spine reads, the cover a simplified dragon with a sword through it. she tries to read into it, to try and pick apart the motives behind the weapon, but all it returns is a simple needlepoint.
a compass. one she’d followed ever since she caved into the pull on her catalyst, one she’d followed out of the city at dusk and into the plains, hiking up starsnatch cliff at its behest. her twin tails had lost some of their curl on the journey, her hat flopping sadly. it was late, later than she’d normally be awake, and she stumbled once on a rock before quickly catching herself, checking to make sure you hadn’t moved.
you, sat at the peak of the cliff. you, surrounded by cecelias, face turned to the stars. you, who turned at her short cry.
“are you alright?”
she couldn’t bring her hands to shift her catalyst into its attack position. her hands, free from their usual gloves, dug into the cover of the book, shaking both with the chill of night and with… she couldn’t tell, couldn’t pin whether it was fear or nervousness, or something else that blurred the line between panic and excitement.
“just fine, thank you.”
her voice was harsher than it should have been. she could tell you were being genuine, the way the water in the air shaped around you like it wanted to cling made that clear enough, the stars shining down on you as if you were the only being on the planet.
the stars never lie. so why were they saying you meant no harm?
you turned back to the stars, your hands shifting back to weave into the grass between the cecelias.
"they’re very lovely tonight. the stars, i mean. they never shine this brightly back home….” against her better judgement, mona glanced up. the sky was particularly clear, constellations shining down unhindered. “it’s a beautiful sight.”
orders from the knights echoed in mona’s head, orders extended from a god she’d never met. she knew the knights wholeheartedly meant what they said, truly believing the words they were told, but you…
hesitantly, she brought her hand in a circle in front of her, scrying for your constellation. you didn’t have one, unsurprisingly, and she relaxed slightly in the knowledge that you didn’t have a vision.. still, there was something strange about the empty space where yours would have been. swapping the sigils and rotating the outer edge, mona decided to read your future.
all the air was sucked from her lungs, the images depicted in the water making her mouth dry. the water warped and bubbled a dark color, as if it itself hated to show what it did.
you were on your knees, tight steel chains wrapped around you and latched onto hooks in whatever you were sitting on. in front of you stood the favored, the creator’s most prized, their weapon drawn. their form was taught with anger, nearly seething. it was strange, so uncharacteristic that it froze the astrologist in place for a moment.
no matter how fiery the disposition, vessels of yours were calmer after being wished upon, heart stiller for being by your side. they, the most prominent on your team of them all, should be at most handling such a severe situation with a tick in their jaw and quiet fury in their eyes, not…
she watched with sick horror as the favored attacks once, your chest caving once, twice with hitched attempts at breathing before you slumped over, blood trickling from your neck. the favored stepped back, weapon dismissed, and mona closed the illusion before it played any further. she hadn’t meant to look all the way to your death, only a few-
…only a few hours.
her hands shake where they’re still clasped in front of her, the remains of her scrying circle swirling in her palms. you didn’t even have a day.
she let the water fall, sending it towards the cecelias around you, willing them to stand brighter as she approached. she couldn’t bring herself to summon her catalyst, not now that she knew what your fate held.
the grass was damp beneath her, seeping slightly into her nightclothes. you didn’t say anything, simply passing her a flower that you had been twirling in your palms. she willed it to heal, restored the color to its petals and the strength to its stem, then passed it back. she had no use for it, not when you…
you chuckled as you took it, staring down at it for a moment before turning skyward once more. mona followed your eyes up, spotting a well known constellation directly above you. nearly perfectly straight up, glowing like a beacon, was the constellation of the favored, six stars making themselves prominent against the dotted sea of night.
“beautiful, isn’t it?”
she swallowed, eyes flicking down to you. you were still watching the stars, probably tracing the shape of the constellation above you. unknowing of what it spelled for your fate, unknowing of the warning written above you.
mona settled into the grass a little more, taking her hat off her head so it wouldn’t fall when she looked up again.
“indeed, it is.”
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pxme-granate · 2 months
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clingyduoapologist · 7 months
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L’mantrio but I assign them hidden blades:
c!Tommy: ok like to me ctommy 100% has a hidden blade similar to Connor’s
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Like with the swivel there? Mans is here to fuck shit up and he doesn’t particularly care how. Fear him.
c!Tubbo: easy answer the Syndicate gauntlet
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Bro is kitted OUT. He’s got the grappling hook, the dart launcher, the blade itself, plus whatever other mods his sick twisted little self could come up with. Wrist mounted war crime right here.
c!Wilbur: Arno’s phantom blade
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Sleek. Understated. And yet with just the little bit of added functionality of the crossbow. Lets him pick off targets before they ever even see him. He’d like it. #archerbursupremacy💯
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I understand that there is a sizable amount of Jon stans whose delusions can be aggravating. Trust me, I’ve come across my fair share of people who think that the sun rises only for Jon Snow and no one else. But, it’s really annoying when certain sections of this fandom act like reading Jon as Azor Ahai is a result of Jon fans making shit up. No, we’re not. We’re literally reading what the text is telling us. We’re not reading into it, we’re reading it straight up. Mel’s singular ADWD chapter is literally just: hey Mel pay attention to Jon Snow, also there’s random stuff happening all over Westeros, and also pay extra attention to Jon Snow.
Mel’s visions are absolutely correct. What’s not correct is how she interprets them to fit an agenda/make herself appear more credible to others (Jon, Stannis). We already know exactly what this looks like when she sees towers being submerged in water, says it’s Eastwatch by the Sea when asked, even though in her head she’s like “oh it can’t be Eastwatch because that place doesn’t look like that”.
ADWD shows us that Mel looks into her fires searching for Azor Ahai and sees “only Snow”. There’s no other way of reading that other than “oh yeah if Mel is specifically looking for Azor Ahai and is seeing Jon Snow, then Jon is the Azor Ahai she’s looking for”. And the gag with this is Mel’s entire purpose, her existence, is to find Azor Ahai. But she completely misidentifies him so when she encounters the real deal, she’s in far too deep to make the obvious and necessary pivot. And it’s even funnier (and I think that’s what GRRM is going for) when there’s nothing special about Mel’s chosen hero Stannis, but there’s a lot that is special about the one she’s ignoring: Jon. Mel literally tells Jon “you’re a super special magic boy let’s make babies because of how super special you are, and these babies will be even more powerful than the ones I made with Stannis” but at the same time being like “yeah mr not-that-special Stannis is totally the guy I’m looking for”.
Plus, Mel’s “only Snow” is quite literally reaffirmed in Jon XII when he dreams himself atop the wall, armored in ice, and wielding LIGHTBRINGER. This isn’t some ordinary flaming sword. This sword burns “red in his fist”, which literally equates it to “the red sword of heroes” - Azor Ahai’s sword. Not only that but Mel’s ptwp is definitely going to be reborn. She has visions about a grey girl on a dying horse WHICH IS TRUE!! What’s not true is this girl being Arya. It’s Alys Karstark. She then has visions about daggers in the dark, which again happens!! Read the last few pages of Jon XIII ADWD. The one that hasn’t come yet but will (based on Jon XIII) is a “promised prince born amidst salt and smoke”. There’s a reason why GRRM included these things in the narrative. And there’s a reason why they happen sequentially. So unless Winds comes out and GRRM is like sike forget that ever happened, it’s pretty safe to assume that Jon is Azor Ahai.
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inanausomewhere · 2 years
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joseph quinn, but with longer hair.
i need to get this app taken away from me
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tamoru · 2 years
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furby bokuto… i’m so sorry
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leopardom · 3 months
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it’s definitely not the right time to do this but it’s bugging me so much i need to ask
would anyone still be interested in reading more analyses/interpretations about Damon’s photoshoots with Nace/Jan and Jure after many days or maybe i shouldn’t even bother to write them?
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