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#post finale fic
paintedwithwords · 8 months
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[...]
“That’s not what was supposed to happen.” There’s a strange tone in her voice, like a student that’s been tested on a subject she doesn’t know. It would be funny if he wasn’t scared shitless right now.
“I beg to disagree.”
“I was here to be your best man,” she explains as if it changes anything, as if they could go back and do it over and she could stay inside the screenplay she’s written for herself.
“You are. You are my best man, and my best friend, and the best thing that ever happened to me.” He continues, unashamed, “You are everything.” Damon tells her clearly, moving forward, needing to hold her face and force her to stare into his eyes and into his heart and see, finally, what she means to him.
[...]
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fandom-hoarder · 3 months
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Haven't written or recorded anything new, but here's some recycling for Dean's bday 🥧🎉🎆🥃
[Podfic] Special Day
Written by CanonicallySoulmates
Read by ladygizarme (me)
Author's Summary: The first thing is pie, not cake, pie because it's what Dean prefers.
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January 24th is a special day for Sam, his beloved brother's life is something to celebrate.
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adreamoverlife · 5 months
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"If I speak in the tongues of men or of angels, but do not have love, I am only a resounding gong or a clanging cymbal. If I have the gift of prophecy and can fathom all mysteries and all knowledge, and if I have a faith that can move mountains, but do not have love, I am nothing. If I give all I possess to the poor and give over my body to hardship that I may boast, but do not have love, I gain nothing."
Or, after everything Sam and Dean get a letter.
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mintypsii · 2 months
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what is this guy's issue 😭
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zosanbrainrot · 3 months
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fanarts for the cute fic by Hazel_Athena where Sanji gets turned into a cat and Zoro is very much a cat person
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sp0o0kylights · 5 months
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Steve Harrington was wearing a Hellfire t-shirt.
It was far too tight on him, the name of the club stretched wide over his chest. The sleeves dug into his biceps, making them pop even more than they usually did, and that was before he crossed his arms. 
Worse?
It was short.
Which meant the damn shirt was constantly riding up to give everyone a nice show of the smattering of hair that trailed down past the band of Harrington's jeans. 
The same hair that Eddie was determinedly not looking at. 
“Henderson, a moment?” He crooked a finger, a smile on his face that was more feral than welcoming. 
Rather than cower or even acknowledge that Eddie was two seconds away from murder, Dustin just gave him a gummy grin, all too pleased with himself and his scheme. 
“Sure Eddie. Steve, don't just stand there, go help set the booth up!” Dustin gestured to Hellfire’s sad little table, crammed all the way in the back of the gym. 
Jeff and Gareth both reacted to the suggestion like a rabid squirrel had been set upon them, nervously inching towards the other side of the booth as Harrington sighed and--shockingly--did as he was told.
‘What,’ Eddie thought angrily, ‘in the everloving fuck.’
“Do you guys mind if I set this down on the table?” Eddie heard Harrington ask as he stormed away, Dustin on his heel. 
They wandered just around the corner, out of sight and hopefully, out of the fallen king’s hearing range.
Eddie wasn't sure if Harrington would try and white knight the very much deserved dressing down he was about to give. 
Didn’t want to chance it, considering the downright weird relationship he had with Hellfire's freshmen.
(While he’d heard many a tale at his table regarding King Steve since the newest recruits had joined Hellfire, most of them dissolved into arguments without ever really going anywhere.
 Best anyone could figure out was that Dustin and Lucas had a bad case of hero worship, while Mike owned a begrudging amount of respect that hailed from a series of misadventures. 
The very same misadventures that, despite all protests to the contrary, was clearly some sort of babysitting gig for Harrington.) 
Either way, plenty of the King’s court would have loved to take this opportunity to fuck with Hellfire.
Given that Henderson was absolutely too old to require a babysitter at fourteen, Eddie would bet his lunch money that was what Steve was here to do.
Something the club couldn’t afford since they were forever and always two seconds away from being stripped of club status and banned from school grounds. 
“I would love to know what went through that all A’s brain of yours when I said,” Eddie whirled on Dustin when they were firmly in the clear, voice low and furious.  “no Henderson, do not invite King Steve to help, he is an invading force and would ruin our peaceful kingdom!?”
He clasped his hands behind his back before leaning into Dustin’s face. “Because clearly whatever you heard wasn’t that.” 
To Eddie’s continued frustration and confusion, Dustin did not treat this like the threat it was. 
None of the freshmen had ever truly treated Eddie like a threat--had somehow skipped that part of the usual onboarding ritual entirely.
Eddie, town freak and drug dealer, who had cultivated his looks and craziness to such a degree that most everyone steered clear, wasn’t used to it. 
Everyone had been afraid of him at some point in this shitty school. Jeff, Gareth, hell even half the staff--and that the dorky trio of fourteen year old's clearly thought this all was play-acting made his eye twitch.
Even if it was--maybe, sometimes--welcome. 
“I know what you said, but I’m telling you I’m right.” Dustin argued immediately, and oh God, he was using that tone again. 
A hand went up into the space between them and Eddie groaned aloud, knowing what was coming.
“First,” Dustin ticked a finger up, “Hellfire really needs the money. Even thirty dollars would get us new figures, but more than that, if we don’t fundraise, we can’t go to Gen Con!” 
Dustin's eyes bored into Eddie’s, full of fire and conviction
“Yes,” Eddie said through gritted teeth, “but--”
“Second!” Dustin cut him off, and God the little shit even threw him a look while he did it, like Eddie was the one being ridiculous here!
“We had to fight just to get our table! Principal Higgins was in algebra today practically begging the mathletes to show up, but then tried to tell us we couldn't be here? That’s messed up!” 
As if denying them a spot to fundraise was the worst thing that asshole had ever done.
Eddie sighed, breath blasting out of his mouth like a dragon’s. 
“Because people think we’re freaks and satanists, Henderson. You don’t typically invite freaks and satanists to the school’s annual Holiday Bazaar. Especially not when all the local moms are paying to hawk their bullshit crafts and tupperware!” 
It was more than that of course. The Hawkins High Holiday Bazaar was a tradition spanning several years now. Starting in the gym and spilling clear into the parking lot, everyone from local artists to even some local shops came to host a small table for the day, thus growing the event from a small school fundraiser to a Hawkins' “must-do.” 
Half the fucking town was here to sell, and the other half was here to shop, which meant Principle Higgins had wanted Hellfire banned from the fucking premise. 
Eddie had been forced to pull out one of his trump cards he’d been saving--blackmail on Higgins that related to the man’s not--so--legal addiction to Percocet that he relied on Reefer Rick for. 
(And bless Rick, that hadn’t been the only tidbit he’d shared with Eddie about Higgins. That information, however, Eddie needed just so the asshat wouldn’t give him the boot from school entirely.) 
The only reason Eddie had pulled it out to secure their rightful spot, was because of Gen Con. 
It was Hellfire's White Whale, their grand adventure, and this was going to be his year to take his friends on one last epic quest to make memories of a lifetime surrounded by people who understood them.
Come hell or high water, Eddie was going to Gen Con--but being able to fundraise by selling wares and baked goods at the stupid Holiday Bazaar would go a long way to help.
Even if he had to listen to the band repeatedly play ear-bleeding renditions of Christmas songs.
“All the clubs get to have a table, and we’re a club!” Dustin continued, like it was that simple. “But you know, I get it. We look scary.” 
He gestured down to his own Hellfire shirt, before gesturing towards Eddie’s entire outfit.
Like Eddie didn't know what he looked like, let alone that he'd made this outfit specifically to scare people away from him.
(And maybe add some rockstar flair to this dinky little hick town.)
“You know who doesn’t look scary?”
Dustin held out his hands and swiveled his body like he was presenting a prize instead of gesturing in the vague direction of; 
“Steve!”
Eddie’s left eye twitched.
‘You can't kill him, you need his character for the campaign.’ He told himself firmly, even if he envisioned strangling Dustin like a chicken.
Cartoon squawking and all. 
“The King isn’t going to help us fundraise, Dustin.” Eddie said, in an effort to break down why Harrington couldn't be here. “He's just going to cause us problems that we can’t afford to have.” 
So many problems, half of which Eddie couldn't think of because if he did, he'd start spiraling.
“Really? Because as you keep saying, Steve used to be the King. People love him, Eddie! Mom’s love him.”
Eddie had pulled himself black up to his proper height a while ago, and now rocked back on his heels while he ran a hand down his face.
There was no getting through to Henderson when he was like this. 
Not unless Eddie really lost it, and it was practically club lore that he only lost it when someone missed an important game. 
One cannot keep a herd of sheep if their flock is terrified of them, after all. 
(“Perhaps you’re just a giant fucking softie.” Tiff, one of Hellfire’s graduating members, told him once. “Honestly dude, I bet you throw up stuffing.”
“Shut up Tiffany, your choker is on backwards again.” He'd spat back, completely offended and not at all trying to distract from how true that was.) 
“We can’t be satanic if Steve’s the one selling cookies!” Dustin finished doggedly. 
“We’re not even selling cookies--that’s not the point!”” Eddie shook his head, hair flying. He was not going to be sidetracked, he wasn’t!
 “Harrington is going to end up siding with all the moms about how we’re all wasting time with D&D, if he even spends the whole time at the table. Is that what you want?” 
He stuck out a ringed finger, poking at Dustin’s chest.
“Every single person who comes by our table has to be convinced D&D is a writing and math based game. Good for the mind and souls of growing, impressionable children. A game that got a bad rep because of  a few silly images.” 
A pitch he and Tiff had come up with during the third or fourth time they had to convince an adult that no, just because their shirts had a dragon on it, didn’t mean they were summoning demons in the drama room. 
“Harrington can’t do that because Harrington doesn’t even know how to play!” 
This Eddie punctuated by throwing his hands in the air. 
Given the startled look of the mother-daughter duo passing him by, clearly was louder than he’d intended--but screw it!
He was right!
Hellfire was in a precarious position to both fundraise and do a little damage control among the slightly smarter members of this shithole small town, and Harrington rolling his eyes and gossiping about how stupid it was would hinder that.
“Okay, first of all, Steve’s played D&D with me and he didn’t even kill his character.” Dustin said it like he was unveiling a smoking gun and not lying through his ass--which Eddie would absolutely be calling him on the second he was done talking. 
Because King Steve? Play D&D?
'Ha!'
“And he’s not gonna say shit because we--me, and Lucas and even Mike!--asked him to help, and he helps when its serious. I know you have some weird grudge with him, but I’m telling you Eddie he’s our golden ticket to Gen Con!” 
“You’re killing me. You are standing here, acting as a friend, when you are bringing a-- a dark force into the midst our of mission--” Eddie hissed, because he was losing the fucking fight and he knew it.
Dustin Henderson was not a man easily swayed. 
Had never been, even when the odds were stacked against him (and Grant and Gareth were howling in his ear.) 
The set of his shoulders and the glint of the little shithead’s eye meant Eddie wouldn’t be able to use him to oust Harrington--if he even could get him out without the dick causing a massive scene anyway. 
As always when outgunned, Eddie flipped to dramatics.
“Betrayed! By my own chosen heir no less!” He moaned, pressing the back of his hand over his eyes as Dustin scoffed.
"Don’t be so dramatic! Steve will help, I promise! Just don’t be a dick to him.” 
 Conversation apparently over, Dustin turned around to head back to the table
Snidely, he added over his shoulder: “Plus we’ve all caught on to the heir thing Eddie. You tell everyone that so they do what you want.” 
The dick.
“You’re too fucking smart for your own good. I’m gonna start feeding you paint chips to bring that IQ down.” Eddie muttered angrily as Dustin went back to their little table.
He gave himself a moment to get his shit together and stomp a foot like a child when Dustin was around the corner and thus couldn’t witness it, before following his wayward sheep back.
Could only pray to any deity listening that Henderson’s meddling didn’t blow up in Hellfire’s face.
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posting this with absolutely no context
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melonalemonade · 6 months
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Here’s my first @steddiebang piece for “Paint the Devil on the Wall“ 🥳
An 80s New York Art Scene AU by @museumgiftshoperaser with art by @dreaminginpencil and ✨ MEEE ✨😙
Prologue & First chapter “Takes One to Know One“ is out NOW
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kithtaehyung · 7 months
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mami (m) | myg/knj
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title: mami (m) pairing: myg x reader(f) , knj x reader(f) , slight jhs x reader(f)😛 rating/genre: m (18+) ; smut ; battle rap au , roommates au summary: you somehow have a conversation with yoongi, and you tell your roommate about a date date. note: heavy 00s vibes, this is just the beginning of a collection of parts instead of just a oneshot let’s fucking goooo🦋 note 2: this is pretty unedited lolll if there are mistakes i'm so so sorry! warnings for this part: language, choking, joon in sweats, bathroom s*x, b*ckshots, friendly sp*nks from your roomie🤪, it uhhh starts right out the gate lmfao, hobi in silk and a robe, yoongi is a warning in his own right, light sl*pping, you get called mamiii😗 so if that’s not ur thing i’d skip this series !!, joon is too smooth, a secret fourth guy lmfaoooo, battle rap scenarios! drop date: september 26th, 2023, 10:07pm est word count: 3.7k  mood: here 
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“You like that, huh?” 
Breath short, you can only gasp as the hands you’ve been eyeing all night clutch your throat, a fiendish hum the first response to your satisfied grin.
“Knew you would.” As your delicious captor speaks, you just know he’s fixated on your makeup—at least, the way it’s smearing onto a bathroom mirror that has seen better days. “You all do.” 
Fuck, he knows what he’s doing. Fucking hell, he always knows.
Your lust condenses and slides down the glass in rivers, and with each experienced thrust inside your folds, it’s getting harder, and harder, and harder to see the man wrecking your shit. 
But it’s coming. The end. The coil inside you is screaming and tightening and you know he can feel every potent pulse as you slap the tiny counter with a palm. “Yoongi—”
“You gonna come, mami?” 
Yes yes yes you really fucking are. It’s so truthful that you can’t even voice your agreement in words, your moans higher and higher in pitch the only tell you can possibly give. 
“Then fucking do it.” 
Light bounces from your eyes and rebounds off the mirror the same time your whine does, every limb locking while bare shoulders bang against your reflection. 
“Fuck.” 
You spring right into the ground floor above, eyes rolling so far back you could probably see the way Yoongi’s smirking at your ass if your dumbfounded mush of a brain wasn’t in the way. 
Again, and again, you milk his cock for all it’s worth, spurning him into gripping your bouncing hips with rough hands and faster strokes. Laughs and conversations seep through the door at your side, but you can’t make out a thing as you garble, 
“Yoongi, please—”
“One more.” 
“I can’t—”
“Don’t play dumb,” he tuts. “You won’t hustle me a second time.” 
Busted. 
Your pout quickly stretches into a devilish curve instead, and you hear his sound of approval before you brag, 
“I spent all that already, by the way.” 
Air whizzes past your ears as you’re hoisted upwards, and your mirth reverberates as you’re spun and shoved into the sink, cheap laminate bruising your back. 
Yoongi must also be remembering the time your pussy sucked the soul out of him. After you both made a bet that you couldn’t beat someone’s record time making him come. 
You won half of his prize money that night. 
And that was the night he won the entire thing. 
“You’re lucky I respect it,” he snarls, sweaty fingers gripping your chin as he slings a leg over his pelvis. When he grins, you wanna lick the white off his teeth. “And you’re lucky I made it back the next night.” 
Oh, shit. Did he really? 
Battle rap events usually stack so that everyone gets a chance. How did he get invited back the same weekend? 
Well, other than being a monster on the mic. There’s a reason you can’t stay away from him, and you may or may not admit you get turned on by how effortlessly ruthless he is. 
Lips smushed, you ask with genuine curiosity, “You won again?” 
Yoongi lightly smacks your cheek, chuckling when you grit out a moan. “Nah. The sponsors loved me,” he claims, finally bringing a hand down to guide himself back inside. “So they paid me to come back.” 
“Sick,” you praise through a grunt, fully catching his eyes for the first time tonight. Pushing past the way he fills you so fantastically, you huff out, “That doesn’t happen on south side.” 
“So I’ve heard.” 
“Yeah, apparently west and east side do it a lot. Especially with that guy Randa—”
“Fuck Randa.”
Ah, so Yoongi knows him? You haven’t ventured into the west scene yet, but the one thing you know about it is that dude’s name.
So he must be a beast.
Especially if Gloss himself had some choice words.
At this little slip of emotion, you don’t hide your smirk at all. “Oh? Maybe I will if that’s how you feel.”
The sudden possessive shove of his cock into your folds is delightful, your high giggle pinging off the bathroom walls.
“Fuck whoever you want, princess,” he chides right against your lips. “You’ll always come back to me.” 
“Duh.” You flick your tongue over his plush. “You wouldn’t last a week without me anyway.”
Yoongi pushes into you again, stare heavy and coaxing butterflies from your belly. “I’d manage.”
“As if.”
But even through the pleasure, you still wonder. How are you both having a regular conversation right now? This never happens with him. You’ve wanted it to, but there simply hasn’t been any talk when he’s involved. 
The high from your orgasm compounds with this strange feeling that you turn a little playful.
“What I meant was…” Fingernail poking his tank, you joke with a sly curve, “Guess you must be like, good or whatever.” 
When he looks down, you childishly swoop your finger up to bump his nose. “Ha. Loser.” 
Predictably, Yoongi pauses before only his eyes raise, suppressed emotions hiding behind long dark strands. “Really.” 
And even though you felt him twitch in your core, you’ll spare him. “I don’t make the rules.” 
You think this is when he’ll start ramming into you again, because none of the times you’ve hooked up ever lasted this long. It’s always been quick with him, and never in any other place other than bathrooms or broom closets. 
Which isn’t bad. Just a pattern you’ve noticed. 
But Yoongi huffs in amusement before shaking his head. “Since when were you this weird?” 
“Wow, rude?” Your scoff is full of mock annoyance. “I’ve always been this way.” 
It’s just that no one’s taken the time to get to know you.
“But you’re so…” 
All they care about is one thing. 
Which, granted, is the same in your case. 
It just gets a bit lonely sometimes. 
Offering to finish for him to stiff arm any more incoming awkwardness, you blurt, “Hot? Slutty?” 
“Fast.” 
Oh. 
Did you both just assume the other person wanted it over and done with?
That’s entirely possible considering the first time it happened lasted a grand total of three minutes. Max.
“I mean…” You lean back on your palms, not caring to adjust your very mussed top because your chest finally snags all of Yoongi’s attention. How he’s still hard inside of you is a complete mystery. “I don’t just fuck, you know.” 
“And here I thought we were similar,” he teases, groaning through his teeth when you roll on his dick. Again. 
And again. 
Of course you’re both similar. The only difference is that people dub this guy a sex god and you’re an easy lay. 
But you won’t get into that with him. Not now and probably not ever since you don’t dare even label Yoongi a friend.
Panting, you observe him watching your movements as you switch the subject, “You fucked that one sponsor chick for the invite, huh.” 
And he takes the out hilariously quick,
“Both of them.” 
Of course. Your head kicks back in laughter, remembering that there were two people running the event instead of one. 
Truthfully, you would’ve paid to see that. 
“Can’t stand you,” you lie, the way you chuckle as he slaps one of your tits saying otherwise. 
“Good.” 
As he rubs a rough thumb over a nipple, an announcement blares over deejay scratches and cheers, tugging both of your eyes to the door.
Before things quickly devolve into how they always go.
When you arch forward, his lips devour your breast; when you rock your hips into his, the groans against your chest make you feel alive. 
Your nails claw through his hair before you can’t decide if you wanna rake them through his shoulders or his neck. Here, there, everywhere you can grab, you take hold. 
Suddenly, Yoongi clutches the top of your skirt before thrusting in hard, and his laugh when you whine out a curse strikes your soul. “It’s better that way.” 
It’s always better that way. 
“Agreed,” you murmur, eyes flickering to the janky ceiling before sighing out, “I think they just said your name.” 
“Mm.” 
He plunges into you so hard you see his impish curve imprinted among the stars. 
“Then hurry up, mami. Gimme one more for luck.” 
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MAMI 
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“Who’s on the menu tonight?”
You hum while peering into your mirror—a much cleaner, brighter mirror than the one you were pressed against a couple weeks ago. “That nice guy I’ve been seeing at the gym.” 
“Wait, what? Are you going on a date date?” 
“Hobi,” you giggle, loving your roommate very much despite the way he just forgets sometimes. “We went through this already.” 
“So… Is that a yes, or.” His laugh blurts out when you throw a middle finger next to your head. “Okay, okay! You can just say it, you know.” 
“I just”—you spot check your makeup before vacating your vanity stool—“You know me. I never do dates.” 
As Hobi leans back on your bed, the way his hot pink robe matches your comforter makes you highly amused. Almost amused enough that you don’t react to his nosy question, 
“Nervous?”
Extremely. 
“Uhm,” you start, all pretenses dropping at the sight of his cocked brow. “A bit.” 
Springing up, your roommate pads over and rests thin palms over even thinner straps of your sundress. 
“What’s got you nervous, love?” 
Pouting, you look out your window before your chin is gently swiveled back forward. Thankful for his insistence, you confess to the only guy that you feel like you can trust, 
“What if I like him?” 
The laugh you get is full of disbelief and pity. “That’s what you’re worried about? Really?” 
When you nod, he chuckles again, but it’s smaller. And more understanding than the first. 
“Pathetic, right.” 
“No, no no,” Hobi starts, sliding his hands down to warm your biceps before squeezing. When he pauses, his expression gives his thoughts away before he can utter them. “Well, a little.” 
“Hoseok.” 
“But! Only because you’re making it seem that way.” He squeezes again before sitting back down on your bed. “If you just let things happen without thinking, isn’t that better?”
Does he really have to flop down to rest his head on his palms? Now? 
Talk about not thinking. 
Whatever. You didn’t expect Hoseok to do that, but he looks hot, so you’ll let it slide. 
And you don’t shy away from his silk-covered package before retorting, “Says you.” 
“Me? I overthink. That’s different.” 
“How!” 
“Don’t think about it.” 
When he winks, you both laugh, and his grin slowly devolves into a smirk before he motions you over with a mere head cock.
And you gladly oblige. 
Because your dynamic with Hobi still hasn’t changed. 
Slowly, you arrive at his knees before mounting the bed at his hips, being steadied over his pelvis as he keeps his prone position. 
“You look hot as fuck, you know.” 
“Mmhmm.” 
“He’s gonna like you for sure.” 
“Naturally.” 
“So what if you end up liking him, too?” 
As he smoothes a hand over the side of your ass, you purse your lips in thought. “Uhh… Feelings? I guess?”
“You can have those, babe.” 
“Not mine,” you correct, knowing yours are too fucked up to share with anyone. Which is exactly why you’re all for the so-called fast title that Yoongi clipped onto your persona. “His.” 
Does the lifestyle you chose come with regrets? Yeah. Complications? Also yes. But at least those hurt less than the regrets and complications actual relationships come with. 
You’re just fine with how things are. 
Which is why you’re scared about seeing Namjoon, because he seems like the type that wants something steady. If you end up liking him, you’re gonna have to choose between options that are vastly different in color. 
Despite all that, you still said yes when he asked you out at the gym last week—while you were drenched, bare-faced, and wincing from the last set you completed to failure. 
Why did you say yes anyway? What drew you in to this guy? 
“If you’re scared of hurting his feelings, then just tell him straight-up,” Hobi advises, pulling you back to the present. “Guys won’t know shit unless you spell it out.” 
Looking down at his perfect features, you fake disbelief, asking the most rhetorical question in existence, “You mean you can’t just read our minds?”
“Baby, we can’t even figure out our own, let alone yours.” 
“You said it.” Fully reassured, you rest on Hoseok’s chest, careful to not smudge your face on his clothes. “…Pity fuck if the date goes wrong?”
“Of course.” 
Your chuckle is soft. “Thank you.” 
“Now get up,” he orders, smacking your ass so perfectly that it offends you. “Before I give you another necklace.” 
“Hoseok!” When his cackles follow you up as you stand, your jaw cannot hinge back in. “Goddamn, you’re bad.” 
“Not as bad as you,” he says, following you out of your room. “Mami.” 
That goddamn nickname. 
Hobi knows it’s a common term. And he knows it’s one you hear from multiple people, especially on south side. Literally nothing new or groundbreaking.
But he also knows it makes you unwell because of one specific person. Because you confessed that you didn’t expect it from them during a fuck and it made you weak in the knees. 
Which caused the same motherfucker to say it over, and over, and over again.
Fucking Yoongi. 
Why the hell is it only potent when he says it?
The psychology of that needs to be studied yet you will completely refuse to be a subject. 
After checking to make sure you have everything, you fish out your phone to double-check the address before calling a ride. 
“Where is it at?”
“Some restaurant on west side.”
“Damn, all the way over there?”
“I’m okay with it,” you assure him, inwardly wincing at the cost on your screen. 
Virtually anything on west side is far from your condo, but that’s partly why you’re alright with going. As much as you get around, you don’t prefer taking people back to your place. 
Besides. No one needs to know where you live unless you really fuck with them.
And it’s only happened twice.
Hoseok’s unconvinced reply cuts your thoughts in two,
“Alright… Well. Lemme know if you end up somewhere else tonight.” 
Smiling, you offer him a warm look, positive that his lean against the kitchen wall would put models to shame. “I always do.” 
“What did I say earlier?” 
“Spell it out for him.”
“Okay, good.” 
When you grin, he does, too. 
And you hope this Namjoon guy at least does well with words. 
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Turns out, he does a fucking splendid job with them.
At least, the things this man is saying has you absolutely melting under dim lights, and you haven’t even gotten your drinks yet. 
“You look damn nice tonight, by the way,” he mentions with a dip of his head, fiddling with his napkin and giving you an upsettingly perfect view of his fingers. “I feel underdressed as hell.”
Underdressed? Looking around, you feel like you’re the one that dressed way too formal and you’re in a damn sundress.
You should’ve known, though. The restaurant that Namjoon chose occupies one of the few streets known for its laid-back, easy-going fare. Even you have heard of its unique charm and you reside quite a ways away. 
Before you respond, you remember how you arrived, checking around the small space before spotting him in a booth. And while you loved the lax way he dressed, you were even more charmed when he got out just to greet you with a cheek kiss. 
And the night has been so pleasant that you forget to be worried. 
“Why? I mean, thank you, but why?” 
Namjoon gives his sweatpants-covered thighs a glance. “I dunno. You just look bossed up and I’m like, your errand boy.” 
Your mirthy disbelief leaks out of your grin before he can finish. Watching a nearby table point at their menus to order, you go along with his compliments,
“I mean, I could use an assistant…”
He only smiles at his hands. “Order me around anytime.” 
Cute. 
Maybe that’s why you’re drawn to this guy. 
Even though he’s huge and can lift like a motherfucker, there’s a soft side that he’s got no shame showing. 
Also, as the night goes on, you quickly discover more traits you rarely come across. 
Curious, suave, humble—all of them surprise you in the best way. He’s already let you talk much more than he has, and the two of you have debated on not one, but three topics. Including one that you would have left his ass for if you both weren’t on the same page. 
“Okay, so we agree.”
“Yes,” he responds in relief. “Definitely would’ve rethought this whole thing if we didn’t.”
“Uhh, yeah, because I would’ve walked out and let you pay for everything.” 
“Damn!” Fuck, his grin is charming. “And I would’ve paid it, too.” 
Laughing—and realizing that you’re doing that a lot tonight—you rest a hand on his shoulder, “No, no, I wouldn’t do that to you.” 
Fuck, he’s solid.
“Wait, I’m getting us this time, though.”
“Yeah?”
Holding a round glass up to his lips, he coolly adds, 
“And next time, too.” 
Well. 
There’s no way you’re saying no to that.
“To next time,” you offer, clinking cups and taking a nice sip of your wine. 
Things end with both of you just having dinner—a concept so foreign that it makes you wonder if he wanted something more than a second date. 
But judging by the times he kept stealing glances and the way his curve stayed at a slant, it’s an open and shut case.
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It’s always a bit crowded in the front few rows, so it doesn’t bother you to hang back for the first time in awhile. 
Besides, you’re a little late from your date anyway. 
Since nothing else happened with Namjoon—he had to leave pretty quick—you determined that you could make it to another Gloss smackdown. 
After you greet all the people and bodyguards hanging around the front doors, you arrive downstairs just in time to hear the deejay ushering everyone in. 
And based on what you hear, it seems like Yijeong’s got extra volume in his mic tonight. 
“Alright, alright, let’s give it up for our two up here, yeah?”
Everyone cheers as you clap to yourself, leaning against a chilly column and ignoring the stares your outfit gets.
The stage looks quite different from back here, with its huddled occupants talking amongst themselves. While you watch both crews laughing and standing around, you wonder what it would be like to support Yoongi from up there instead of on the ground. 
You really would if he wanted you to.
“I don’t have to introduce either one but I’m gonna do it anyway. Cus that’s the rules or whatever and they both deserve some love. Give it up for my man K Shine!”
You aren’t familiar with him but you support anyway. A tiny whoop leaves your mouth as a big portion of the room shouts, and you watch as the guy nods to the people that came to see him. 
“Oh, we’re showing out, okay. Alright, now let’s hear it for my guy Gloss!” 
In contrast, your energy evolves tenfold, and you gladly yell with the rest of the floor as Yoongi stays piercing the ground at his feet.
This guy. 
Still the same routine.
You always muse that he could look into the crowd once in awhile, especially since his audience is steadily growing. 
If they ever saw his smile, maybe more people would be drawn in wait is he looking up this time? 
Wait.
Despite there being rows and rows between you and the stage, you don’t miss the slight shift in his demeanor. It almost looks like he’s scanning the people in front. 
What’s he doing? Is he looking for something? Someone? 
…He’s not looking for you, is he? 
You’re there quite often and always in the same area, but you didn’t think Yoongi would really notice or be checking for you right now.
…But is he? 
Before you can think any further, the quick blares of an airhorn shove your thoughts away. 
“K Shine, you win the toss,” the middle man on stage announces. Fuck, you think you’d know his name by now, he’s been here a lot ever since the first guy disappeared. “What you got.” 
When the man answers, he stares right at Yoongi’s hooded head, fire flaring up the walls already,
“Mister Big House, Big Car, Big Rings can go first.” 
Oh.
He—
You really fucking regret not being in the front now.
Immediately, the whole room ooh’s, with the middle man pursing his lips and giving the two opponents space. 
Light illuminates the whole stage as both sides back up a bit, heavy cameras set to roll and some feedback ringing through the musty air. 
And you wait with bated breath as the crowd goes quiet. 
Heart stilling as Yoongi holds a mic right up to his lips.
tbc :))) 
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so.. what do we think lmaooo 🦋 | join the taglist :D
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a/n: thank you all for reading! as i don't have too much time to spend on fics nowadays, i'll be heavily considering feedback and excitement around fics to determine what to work on. if you did enjoy, please interact however you can! even a like is okay at this point, but all tags, reblogs, comments, messages, and submissions in the feedback box are super appreciated.
a/n 2: all the names i’m gonna include that aren’t the members (or yijeong lol) are real life battle rappers! k-shine was one of the first ones i ever watched, and he has good aggressive delivery and performance but not too many heavy hitters. anybody i namedrop will have rap battles linked, so here is one of k-shine’s that i remember from back in the day. battle rap is an art form in itself, and i would like to showcase these talented individuals whenever i can.
++ feedback box: ⇥ of course, any reblogs/comments/messages are appreciated! ⇥ for the ones that are too shy to reblog with a review, comment on this, or send a message, i went ahead and made another anonymous form where you can send in what you think! ⇥ no emails collected, no need to put in a username. it’s literally just a comment dropbox :D feedback can be as short/sweet or as long as you’d like! ⇥ here! ++ more links: ⇥ masterlist 
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cubedmango · 6 months
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hello at last, klapolly nation!!
here's my piece for this years @klapollo-minibang, drawn for @strawhatsanddelibirds 's amazing fic (Fake) Dating Terms and Conditions, with even more incredible art done by @luchichufer! i hope you all enjoy the work of our team and have fun reading! 🌿
(psst, i also made little spot arts to go with each chapter, go see those as you read through 👀)
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fiepige · 7 months
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Compilation of EVERY single time they changed Hobie's filter in the digital version:
Left: Theatrical release Right: Digital release
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You might have to click on some of them to get a better look at Hobie, sadly I don't have a video editor that allows me to make better edits than these :')
#This took so long to make lol#cause I had to edit every scene with Hobie from both versions so I could watch them right after one another to compare them#I did this with ALL the scenes he's in also the ones where he's on screen as spider-punk#but they only changed his filters in these scenes so it was a waste of time :')#sidenote: no it wasn't it's never a waste of time to look at hobie I just couldn't use it for my GIFset lol#I also made a bouns one but I'm not allowed to post more than 30 GIFs in one post apparently so I guess I just won't add it then...#but Hobie was basically filterless during all these scenes in the theatrical version#I like that they gave him more different filters in the digital version#the only change I don't like is in the first GIFs#cause like that one post pointed out it looks like they removed his lipstick for some reason#also really wish I had a better video editor so we could get a closer look at Hobie but I did my best with what I had#also slowed some of them down to get a better look at them#been having this idea for a while and now I finally finished it!#which means I can go back to working on my fics now#hopefully lol#also lemme know if there are some other scens you guys want me to make comparisons of#cause I have both versions#the theatrical release isn't the highest quality though so if you know where I can get my hands on a better version lemme know ;)#hobie brown#spider punk#miles morales#spider man#peter b parker#jess drew#miguel o'hara#spider man across the spider verse#across the spider verse#across the spiderverse#atsv#theatrical version
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paintedwithwords · 1 year
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[...]
She feels the urgent need to lower her eyes, and they fall on his beautiful hands, knuckles scraped and bloody. She doesn’t realize immediately that it’s a bit too much blood to be his alone, and her instinct prevails.
“What did you do?” she asks.
“I thought we were over that already,” he replies, unaware.
“Not that,” she replies giving him a dirty look before ordering, “Sit while I get the first aid kit.”
It takes her less than a minute to come back. He sits obediently on the counter top dangling his long legs like a kid, and as she concentrates on his bloody hands, he is about to make a dirty joke about her and a nurse costume, but she touches his hands so very gently and her plump lip gets trapped between her teeth as she cleans up his scraped hands, and she smells so good despite their run and the smoke in the club that he forgets what he was about to say.
[...]
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crazy-fangirl2524 · 9 days
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My biggest flex will always be how I knew Neil was the more feral and dangerous one than Andrew this whole time even before tsc and seeing the entire fandom freaked out makes me want to kiss and hug Nora and just thank her for finally finally showing everyone and I’m not just crazy
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too-much-tma-stuff · 1 month
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Finally getting help (prt 9)
Masterpost
“So where’s the brother?” Jason asked as he followed Bruce down the hall. 
“He’s in Tim’s lab. It seems like they’ll be able to share it, which is good even with as big as this place is I don’t think we have room for two mad science labs,” Bruce said with dry humour, making Jason laugh in spite of himself.
“Tim must be thrilled to have a buddy huh?” He asked, still chuckling. No one in this family was stupid by any means, he often felt like the dumb one and objectively he knew he was still a fucking genius. But even with all of them being That smart no one could keep up with Tim’s innovative and scientific mind. 
“I think he might even learn a few things, which is a frightening concept. Danny asked for microwaves and toasters this morning so he could cannibalize them into anti-possession tech. The way that boy combines science and magic is going to give both me and Constantine ulcers.” 
Jason snorted, both at the joke and maybe a bit out of pleasure that someone was going to be giving Bruce a hard time. “Well if you need a babysitter don’t call me. I don’t want to deal with any of that,” he chuckled.
“Oh absolutely not, you would only feed into the chaos,” Bruce said quickly making Jason cackle, because he was right.
“Alright,” Bruce murmured to himself when they reached the closed door to the lab, it was almost lost in the banging inside but Jason heard it. Heard Bruce bracing himself for whatever was going to happen when Jason and Danny met.
He opened the door and across the room Jason saw who must be Danny. He was prime adoption bait with his black hair and blue eyes, but he was… absolutely beautiful, slight and elven, gently curved and wired with muscle. Jason froze, and it seemed so did Danny, staring at each other from across the room. Butterflies fluttered in Jason’s stomach, building till they didn’t feel like butterflies but something buzzing, trying to get out. He could hear the growl coming from his chest, not his throat.
Danny’s eyes swirled with green and he vaulted over the work table, abandoning the half finished tech he was working on to lunge at Jason. He collided with Jason with a snarl of his own, Jason growled and flipped Danny over his shoulder, the hall was a closed space so Danny twisted, running into the wall feet first and landing in a crouch. Jason twisted so he didn’t have his back to a wall anymore as Danny lunged at him again and Jason dodged, pushing off the wall to give himself momentum as he threw himself after Danny. 
Danny grabbed Jason’s arm and used his momentum to throw him over his hip, following him down to the ground, barely missing as Jason rolled away. He didn’t even think to draw a weapon, that wasn’t what this fight was about, they weren’t actually trying to hurt each other. Even as Jason punched down so hard he cracked the floor he somehow knew Danny would dodge, and wouldn’t get hurt. And Danny did, he got out of the way and lashed out in return, kicking Jason in the chest and sending him flying a few feet back giving Danny time to scramble back to his feet and chase after him.
This give and take carried them down the hall and to the landing by the stairs. Somewhere in the background Jason knew that someone was shouting at them to stop, and to be careful, but he wasn’t listening. He was too focussed on the growl emanating from Danny, and from himself which were starting to smooth out again, to feel less like desperate insects trying to escape and more like a cat’s purr, or some sort of song. They were reaching equilibrium, some sort of harmony. 
He didn’t realize how close they were to the stairs until Danny knocked him back again and this time when he stepped back he didn’t land on solid ground. The two of them tumbled down the stairs, rapidly switching who was on top as they fell. Jason could feel himself collecting bruises but he didn’t fucking care.
They came to a halt at the bottom of the stairs with Jason on top, his forearm pressed against Danny’s chest just below his throat. They were both breathing hard, staring at each other with wide blue-green eyes. The growling died down, lowering down into purrs harmonizing with each other as they caught their breath. Jason’s was lower and Danny’s a little higher, it was a hypnotic sound that made Jason feel… peaceful.
Danny moved first, reaching up slowly to touch Jason’s face, but before he could Jason realized what they had done and the position he was in. He had fought with Danny, and he was now pinning an abused teenager to the floor straddling his waist. This looked bad and now that he realized what was happening it Felt worse! He practically shot up off of Danny and was about to bolt before Danny grabbed his hand.
“Wait! Don’t go yet! Let me just, let me get you a specter-deflector so no one can possess you first okay?” Danny asked, sounding oddly desperate and even though Jason wanted to run he nodded.
Danny looked relieved and let go of Jason before suddenly flying up and through the floor above them. Jason blinked at the ceiling above him before looking around him. 
Oh dear, Bruce, Tim, Damian, and Jazz were all watching from the landing above. Damian looked like he wanted to kill Jason himself, Bruce looked disappointed, Tim impassive and Jazz looked… Excited? Why did she look happy?
Danny flew back down through the floor before anyone could think of what to say. “Okay! Here’s the specter-deflector,” He said, clicking something that looked like a watch into place around Jason’s wrist. “That’ll protect you, this is a blaster,” he said, handing Jason an odd sci-fi looking gun. “It’ll reload automatically from ambient ectoplasm, it works best against dead and undead but it can hurt humans too. And.. um, this is my number,” He said, blushing furiously as he handed Jason a slip of paper. “Please text me?”
When had Jason’s mouth gotten so dry?! He had to lick his lips before he answered, painfully aware of how hot his cheeks were and that he must be blushing too. He didn’t blush much, not since his death and resurrection, but he was absolutely blushing now, and he was still purring too if more softly now. He didn’t even know that he could purr, not really. “Ya, Yes, I’ll text you,” he promised before he fled the house. He would have to have some of Alfred’s lasagna later, just then he desperately needed to calm down and clear his head.
-----
Jazz was practically vibrating with excitement and as soon as the door had closed behind Jason she couldn’t contain it anymore. She squealed as she vaulted over the railing of the landing and landed in the foyer and sprinting over to Danny. “Danny what the heck! You have a crush?! I haven’t seen you that passionate in ages!” She enthused scooping Danny up under his arms and twirling him around.
“Jaaazz,” Danny complained even as he went kitten limp in her arms letting her hold him at arms length nearly a foot off the floor.
“I didn’t even know you liked boys! Why didn’t you tell me you like boys!?” Jazz demanded, shaking him a little.
“I didn’t really, I mean I always preferred girls. The only guy I ever really had a crush on was Dash and-” He cut off when Jazz made a disgusted face. “Exactly! That was never going to happen and he was an asshole so I didn’t want to talk about it!”
“Okay ya I understand- Wait you were making fun of me for having a thing for bad boys when your type is asshole meathead jocks!? Ohhh you’re never going to hear the end of this baby brother!”
“Oh my god No!” Danny groaned, finally squirming out of Jazz’s hold and dropping back to the ground stepping back. 
He turned towards the Wayne’s who had made their way down the stairs while the siblings were talking. “Is Jason an asshole?” He demands of Tim, he’s probably the fairest judge in Danny’s estimation.
“Absolutely,” Tim said promptly before realizing what he said and backtracking a little. “But I’m his brother, I'm supposed to say that. Jason’s heart is in the right place, he's a good guy, just kinda violent and a complete jerk,” Tim said. 
“Perfect,” Danny said his expression a little dreamy. 
“Why on earth would you have a crush on Todd?! You could do so much better!” Damian squawked indignantly, breaking the tension and making everyone besides Bruce laugh, and even he smiled just a little. 
“I want to say you did well Bruce, I know it was hard not to break up the fight but so? It was good for them, I hope it won’t be too hard on you if they do end up dating,” Jazz said, patting Bruce’s arm. 
He shifted from one foot to the other a little awkwardly but then shook his head. “No it won’t be, I mean it won’t be the first time, Barbra was as good as my daughter and she dated Dick, and Steph and Tim dated. It’s always a little awkward but I’d rather that than a Super,” He said, shooting Tim a look, he cleared his throat and looked away.
“Well good, we’ll see how this works out but really,” she turned back towards Danny. “This could be good! You’ve always been attracted to violent people but I don’t think that your ghost instincts realized that when Val was shooting at you it wasn’t bonding for her the same way it was for you,” she told him, her tone borderline accusatory.
Danny looked down and shifted from side to side, giving a little shrug. “I know, but she was a good girlfriend, when she wasn’t being Red Huntress and I wasn’t being Phantom. When we were just Danny and Val, it was good.”
“Oh Danny,” She sighed and pulled him into a hug. “I know, but he has the same instincts as you, I’m rooting for you Danny.”
“Thanks Jazz,” Danny said softly, hugging her back.
“Welp, I’m heading back to the lab,” Tim said, obviously uncomfortable with the genuine emotions he made a break for it before he could get roped into any hugs.
Next
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evercelle · 8 months
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The truth is: Saihara keeps losing time. The lie is: he doesn’t know why.
-- from manic moves and drowsy dreams by @merthurlin!
a post-game saiou collab maayan and i cooked up a little bit ago! sometimes a family is you, your cats, and the brainghost who won't let you be alone...
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marypsue · 1 year
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So if you follow me (and aren't just stopping by because you saw one of my funney viralposts), you probably know that I've been writing a bunch of fanfiction for Stranger Things, which is set in rural Indiana in the early- to mid-eighties. I've been working on an AU where (among other things) Robin, a character confirmed queer in canon, gets integrated into a friend group made up of a number of main characters. And I got a comment that has been following me around in the back of my mind for a while. Amidst fairly usual talk about the show and the AU and what happens next, the commenter asked, apparently in genuine confusion, "why wouldn't Robin just come out to the rest of the group yet? They would be okay with it."
I did kind of assume, for a second or two, that this was a classic case of somebody confusing what the character knows with what the author/audience knows. But the more I think about it, the more I feel like it embodies a real generational shift in thinking that I hadn't even managed to fully comprehend until this comment threw it into sharp perspective.
Because, my knee-jerk reaction was to reply to the comment, "She hasn't come out to these people she's only sort-of known for less than a year because it's rural Indiana. In the nineteen-eighties." and let that speak for itself. Because for me and my peers, that would speak for itself. That would be an easy and obvious leap of logic. Because I grew up in a world where you assumed, until proven otherwise, that the general society and everyone around you was homophobic. That it was unsafe to be known to be queer, and to deliberately out yourself required intention and forethought and courage, because you would get negative reactions and you had to be prepared for the fallout. Not from everybody! There were always exceptions! But they were exceptions. And this wasn't something you consciously decided, it wasn't an individual choice, it wasn't an individual response to trauma, it wasn't individual. It was everybody. It was baked in, and you didn't question it because it was so inherently, demonstrably obvious. It was Just The Way The World Is. Everybody can safely be assumed to be homophobic until proven otherwise.
And what this comment really clarified for me, but I've seen in a million tiny clashing assumptions and disconnects and confusions I've run into with The Kids These Days, is that a lot of them have grown up into a world that is...the opposite. There are a lot of queer kids out there who are assuming, by default, that everybody is not homophobic, until proven otherwise. And by and large, the world is not punishing them harshly for making that assumption, the way it once would have.
The whole entire world I knew changed, somehow, very slowly and then all at once. And yes, it does make me feel like a complete space alien just arrived to Earth some days. But also, it makes me feel very hopeful. This is what we wanted for ourselves when we were young and raw and angrily shoving ourselves in everyone's faces to dare them to prove themselves the exception, and this is what I want for The Kids These Days.
(But also please, please, Kids These Days, do try to remember that it has only been this way since extremely recently, and no it is not crazy or pathetic or irrational or whatever to still want to protect yourself and be choosy about who you share important parts of yourself with.)
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