captainsaintandcompany-deactiva said:

Do I even have to ask?! Saintlock || Wolvlock

SAINTLOCK

  • Who’s more dominant:

This changes. Sometimes, she’ll want me to be the one in charge, other times, she likes all of the control. I do not complain.

  • Who’s the cuddler:

Neither of us are really cuddlers, but when we do… it’s usually just a mutual thing. So both?

  • Who’s the big spoon/little spoon:

I generally end up being the one holding her, although, she does like to pet my hair.

  • What’s their favorite non-sexual activity:

Piracy. Detective work

  • A head canon:

Saintly taught Sherlock how to use a sword, and Sherlock taught Saintly how to deduce certain aspects of people. Even if they have retired, they still like to practice sword fighting and people watch.

  • Their relationship summed up in a gif:

image

We’ve become very attached to one another.

 

WOLVLOCK

 

  • Who’s more dominant:

Logan… I think I won being dominant once.

  • Who’s the cuddler:

Logan. Although it’s mutual. We both enjoy being close.

  • Who’s the big spoon/little spoon:

…I’m the little spoon…

  • What’s their favorite non-sexual activity:

Smoking and drinking together.

  • A head canon:

Logan likes back rubs, and Holmes would give him a back rub when ever he needed a sample of his blood for testing. Holmes would always ask before taking it, and then thank him with a massage.

  • Their relationship summed up in a gif:

image

We’ve been through a lot, I doubt this will be a relationship anything or anyone can break

Drabbles Round One : Fluffy

Sherlock:

Zip Me: I’ll write a drabble about your character dressing mine: or the other way around [this can also be used for shutting them up as well: but feel free to specify.]

“I can’t believe Holmes is making us go to this ‘Ball’ thing.” Saintly huffed, looking down at her dress. It looked nice, but she couldn’t move as freely as she would have hoped to, and Holmes had been strictly clear when he told her to not alter it in any way shape or form. Sherlock was in the bathroom, combing his hair and fussing with his Bowtie. Once upon a time, his mother and father had tried to teach him how to do it, but he swiftly forgot, never thinking he would ever have to wear one again. He had half a mind to throw it out the window and maybe just find a scarf instead, like the ones Holmes’ wears. Sighing, he continued to fiddle with it, listening to Saintly’s annoyed huffs from the room over. “If I fall on my face in front of everyone, I’m going to gut him like a pig.”

Laughing, Sherlock let the ribbon hang around his neck, figuring Saintly was having trouble with something. He had been right, for when he walked in she was trying to get to the lace on her back, but her arms and the sleeves wouldn’t let her. With a quiet ‘Here’ Sherlock stepped closer and began to lace her up. “Whether you believe me or not, you look beautiful… Albeit ridiculous.” Of course he had to add in that remark. This was very unlike saintly, and he had to admit he enjoyed the Pirate side of her. “But… It’s nice to dress up at least once a life time, just to see how it feels.”

His fingers lingered on her bare shoulders, before he reached over her shoulder to grab the shawl from her hands. “Besides, even if Holmes wants you to wear it, he picked colors that suit you.” Placing the red Shawl across her shoulders, he circled around to stand in front of her, his face a bit flustered and shy. “Now… You’re good with knots, maybe you can help with this one?”

She stared at it for a long moment, thinking about the different ties she had seen on Holmes and Dastan before grabbing a hold of the ribbon and beginning to tie it. Her first few tries failed, but eventually, she managed to make a rather great looking bow, and she gave it a proud pat as it rested around Sherlock’s neck. “The lion has a collar. How appropriate.”

Piss off.” He muttered, smiling and ducking his head before holding out his arm. “Shall we?”

Holmes:

Coffee: My character will be hyped up on coffee and pester yours.

Holmes sauntered down the stairs, moving to pick the coffee pot off of the stove and pouring him a bit, only to find it completely empty. Blinking, he opened it and peered inside. Dry as a desert. Scratching the back of his head, he turned around, looking at a cup that had once had coffee in it, but it was poured into a second cup. As a Detective, he knew what happened right away, and he lifted his gaze, wondering where the culprit was at the moment.

It didn’t take long to find him, mainly because Logan came looking for him first. His hazel eyes were wide, looking around, an empty mug in his hand as he hurried by the detective to place the cup in the kitchen, hurrying back to his side. “Morning, sleeping beauty. About time you got up! C’mon! I’ve been stuck inside all day, I wanna go out!” He wrapped his fingers around Holmes wrist, pulling him closer to kiss his lips, then send him towards the stairs. “Go! Go-go-go! Get dressed!”

Morning- I- HEY!” He stumbled towards the stairs, still waking up and still trying to figure out what on Earth gave Logan the smart idea to drink at least four cups of coffee. Even as he started up the stairs, Logan didn’t wait very long, circling around him so he could lead the man up the stairs. “Logan- Logan! What has gotten into you?”

I dunno, I just. I feel real jittery and I just want to… take on the bloody world!”

It’s only 7 AM.”

I know! That’s like, half the day wasted! Come ON!” He practically carried the man back into the bed room and to the closet. “You know how you said you wanted to go get a good look at the London Bridge? We’re doing that today. OH! And stopping by the Tobacco Shop again! Maybe we can go visit Buckingham Palace! And then get down to the fight studio. You and I could win quite a few bucks, and we need the money!” The Mutant prattled on as Holmes got dressed, yawning and wishing Logan had saved at least a few sips of coffee for him, but he had to admit the man’s hyper activity was a bit adorable. “And we need more coffee… We’re out.”

Mor—Logan! How many pots of coffee did you make?!” He had been under the impression that the man had just downed ONE pot of coffee…

Five… Or Six… I actually lost count. Ready?!”

Drabble 2 - Sherlock

Murder: Don’t shoot! Muse is paranoid and thinks a serial killer is stalking them for three days

DAY 1

I will siiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiin you.”

Sherlock bolted upright, holding tight to the knife Saintly had gotten him one Christmas as the long forgotten voice protruded through his dreams. He hadn’t seen anything about that man in years! Why was he suddenly thinking about him now? It was impossible for Moriarty to get to him from here, absolutely impossible because Sherlock was still way back in time, that Jim Moriarty didn’t even exist yet! Unless… Unless he found a way to get to the past as well…

Ha-ha-ha-ha Stayin’ aliiiive!”

Throwing the covers from his body, he crossed to the window. That song, that song hadn’t been invented yet. Why was he hearing it? Cautiously peering out into the street, he tried looking for a sign, anything that the mad man might still be out there, still hunting him, wanting him truly dead. His piercing blue eyes stared out at the road below, there was no one out and about, but he swore he could hear that song! From where? Turning away, he started to move towards the door, placing a hand on the knob as he listened though the wood. There! The song was coming from out there.

He raised his knife, pulling the door open just as the song cut short. His heart pounded in his ears, threatening to come out of his throat as he peered into the Darkness. Where was he? He was somewhere, and Sherlock would NOT let him get to Saintly or Holmes or even Logan for that matter. Not here, not this time! Slowly closing the door, he eased back into the room, telling Saintly to go back to bed, telling her that everything was alright, he had just been dreaming. Lying down beside her, he let her sleep close to him, but abandoned all hope for getting anymore sleep that night.

His day was spent looking over his shoulder, listening, waiting, wondering where he was, when he was going to strike. Logan made snide comments, but he ignored them. Logan had Victor and Sherlock had Moriarty. Saintly seemed to be grown increasingly worried about him, and even Holmes was giving him odd looks. No one was there, but Sherlock was more than positive that something was there… waiting to strike.

DAY 2

Sleep was hard to come by, and when he finally did get to sleep, it didn’t last long.

I owe you a fall.”

No! No, not this again. Sherlock thought violently, fighting the urge to get up and out of bed. Saintly was already worried about him, getting up again would force him to explain, and this time she would bring Holmes and Logan into it if he didn’t talk. It was best just to let it go, just to wait and see if anything came out of the dark to get him.

Ha-ha-ha-ha Stayin aliiiiiiiiiive!”

Gripping the knife again, he remained tense, watching the shadows, waiting for something to spring out of them, waiting for the villain to show his face so Sherlock could send his knife right through him, right through his neck. As soon as morning came, he was up, getting dressed, and claiming he lost his shoe so he could search everywhere around the room. Nothing. No one… With an exasperated sigh, he turned towards the window, his face nearly paling more than usual.

I. O. U

On a street sign. His blood went cold as he stared at it, and it took him a good minute to even consider starting to move again. This couldn’t be happening again, this couldn’t be following him here of all places! Here he had a new life, a good life, an exciting life he wanted. That Excitement did NOT include a homicidal psychopath. Blinking a few times, he wondered if Holmes was having hauntings from his own Moriarty, but being that Logan wasn’t running through the streets looking for the man, it seemed unlikely. He dropped his head into his hand, rubbing his eyes, tired from little to no sleep the past two days. He had grown used to sleeping like a normal person, but apparently that won’t be happening.

This man was going to run him into his grave. Again.

DAY 3

The young detective perched himself on the roof top, looking over the edge, thinking deeply, waiting for something from. If he was going to show himself, here was the place to do it. This time, Sherlock was going to kill him personally, make sure he couldn’t get himself out of it. Logan and Holmes had gone out for the night, having a night to themselves, as they deserved, but Saintly refused to leave Sherlock, and she sat close to him, not saying a word as he paced from one side to the other, looking, waiting, ready to confront him face on.

I’m going to get him… I’m going to get him.” He convinced himself, his gun ready, his sword at his side and Saintly close to him, ready to steady him if anything should happen.

Ha-ha-ha-ha Stayin aliiiiive!”

He stopped again, looking around, hearing it, ready to spring on it. His eyes fell on Saintly. “Do you hear that? It’s there. It’s… The song! Do you hear it?”

Saintly shook her head, looking a bit worried as she stood up, walking over to him, and placing her arms around him. Sherlock was not one for losing his mind, and seeing him like this was killing her on the inside. Asking again, he tried to find where the song was coming from, but Saintly held him sternly, looking him directly in the eyes, trying to get through to him. “Sherlock, there is no song! There is no one here, Logan can’t smell anything, Holmes has gone through everything. No one is after you.”

Someone is always after me!” He snapped, holding his head, trying to figure out where the sudden paranoia was coming from. He had been fine, he had been peaceful, but now… Now he was on edge, waiting for the other shoe to drop. Too much good, now something bad had to happen, right? That’s how life was. “Always…”

Saintly/Sherlock

If you snuck in my room I would: “Why are you sneaking into your own room?”

[X] Go back to sleep

[] Kick you out

[X] Have rough sex with you

[X] Cuddle with you

[] Be like wtf?

[X] Let you sleepover? 

[] Beat your ass

If you kissed me I would:

[X] Kiss you back… Passionately.

[] Smile & laugh

[]Push you away

[] Be shocked

[] Slap you

You are:

[X] Cute Bad Ass

[] Adorable

[X] Pretty

[X] Beautiful

[] Okay

[X] Sexy

[X] Hotass Motherfucker

[X]askjdgfjIf

[] Ew

[X] Mine

If you asked me out I would say:

[]No

[X]Yes

[]HOLY MOTHER OF GOD, YES

Can we cuddle?

[]No thank you

[X]Yes please

Sex?

[]No thank you

[X]Yes please

[X]Now. Right now. My bed. Hurry.

Logan/Holmes

If you snuck in my room I would:

[X] Go back to sleep

[] Kick you out

[X] Have rough sex with you

[X] Cuddle with you

[] Be like wtf?

[] Let you sleepover 

[] Beat your ass

[X] Make sure you actually slept in the bed and not in the corner like you used to...

If you kissed me I would:

[X] Kiss you back… Repeatedly

[X] Smile & laugh

[]Push you away

[] Be shocked

[] Slap you

You are:

[] Cute

[] Adorable

[X] Pretty Fantastic.

[] Beautiful

[] Okay

[X] Sexy

[X] Hotass Motherfucker

[X]askjdgfjIf

[] Ew

[X] Mine

If you asked me out I would say:

[]No

[X]Yes

[X]HOLY MOTHER OF GOD, YES

Can we cuddle?

[]No thank you

[X]Yes please

[X] Every Chance we get

Sex?

[]No thank you

[X]Yes please

[X]Now. Right now. My bed. Hurry.

captainsaintandcompany-deactiva said:

"Aren't you cute,Lion. But if anyone so much as touches you, they'll be burned alive..." Saint smirks, and Logan follows in with a growl. "Holmes already knows what will happen to his prospects..." Cracks knuckles.

No one is going to touch me. I’m making sure to be blatantly rude." Sherlock said quietly, taking his Wife’s hand and kissing her cheek.

image

Looking up at his Partner, Holmes smiles and kisses the mutants chin. “You’re the man I fell in love with. You’re the man I’m going to stay with. Shawn should be proof of that.

image

captainsaintandcompany-deactiva said:

✧One for Saint and one for Logan✧

Saintly

What are you to me (check all that apply)?
[] A stranger.
[] A friend.
[XX] A best friend.
[] A crush.
[X] A girlfriend/boyfriend.
[X] A fiance/fiancee.
[X] A husband/wife.
[X] A family member. 

Where did I meet you?
[] A bar.
[] A party.
[] The movies.
[] The internet.
[X] Work. “Holmes’ pet maimed someone…
[] School.
[] Church.
[X] Other. “We were at sea, I believe.

How long have I known you?
[] A year or less.
[] Two or three years.
[] Four or five years.
[] Six to ten years.
[XX] 11+ years. “We’re at about… 106-108 years?”

I think you are (check all that apply):
[] Annoying.
[] Kind.
[X] Rude. - Pirate
[] Generous.
[X] Selfish. - Pirate
[] Frugal.
[] Fickle.
[X] Funny.
[] Polite.
[X] Daring.
[] Cowardly.
[] Sweet.
[XX] Attractive.
[] Ugly.
[X] Messy. “But just as messy as the rest of us.
[] Neat.
[X] Cool.
[] Dorky.
[XX] Smart.
[] Stupid.
[] Immature.
[X] Mature.
[X] Weird/ Interesting
[XX] Pirate 

If you were caught in an explosion, I would (check all that apply):
[X] Get you to a hospital. Holmes’ Flat, get you some Serum.
[X] Check to see how badly you were hurt.
[] Tell you things that I was unable to before.
[X] Panic.
[] Cry.
[] Let you be.

If I saw you right now, I would (check all that apply):
[X] Hug you.
[XX] Smile.
[X] Be happy.
[X] Kiss you.
[] Tackle-hug you.
[XX] Talk to you.
[] Slap you.
[] Yell at you.
[] Be secretly loathsome of your presence.
[] Do nothing.

What are my feelings towards you? (check all that apply)
[] I like you.
[XX] I love you.
[X] I’m IN love with you.
[X] I enjoy your company.
[X] I wish we talked more.
[X] I want to see you.
[X] I miss you.
[] I hate you.
[] I wish I’d never met you.
[] I enjoy seeing you suffer.
[] Who are you? 

If you died, I would (check all that apply): ((CLEARS THROAT LOUDLY))

[] Not care.
[XX] Be sad.
[XX] Cry.
[X] Never recover.
[X] Die of heartbreak. 


Logan

What are you to me (check all that apply)?
[] A stranger.
[X] A friend.
[X] A best friend.
[X] A crush.
[X] A girlfriend/boyfriend.
[] A fiance/fiancee.
[X] A husband/wifePartner
[X] A family member. Papa Logan

Where did I meet you?
[X] A bar.  Wait no. That was the Sex.
[] A party.
[] The movies.
[] The internet.
[X] Work. You Maimed someone.
[] School.
[] Church.
[X] Other. Didn’t we also meet at sea?

How long have I known you?
[] A year or less.
[] Two or three years.
[] Four or five years.
[] Six to ten years.
[XX] 11+ years. Over 108 years, I know that.

I think you are (check all that apply):
[] Annoying.
[X] Kind.
[X] Rude.
[] Generous.
[] Selfish.
[X] Frugal.
[] Fickle.
[X] Funny.
[] Polite.
[X] Daring.
[] Cowardly.
[X] Sweet.
[XXXXXX] Attractive.
[] Ugly.
[X] Messy. “You broke the Bar Floor…
[X] Neat. “He’s neater than the rest of us…
[X] Cool.
[] Dorky.
[XX] Smart.
[] Stupid.
[] Immature.
[X] Mature.
[] Weird.
[XX] Protective 

If you were caught in an explosion, I would (check all that apply):
[] Get you to a hospital.
[] Check to see how badly you were hurt.
[] Tell you things that I was unable to before.
[] Panic.
[] Cry.
[X] Let you be, read a book, then throw it at you for getting caught in an Explosion.

If I saw you right now, I would (check all that apply):
[] Hug you.
[X] Smile.
[X] Be happy.
[X] Kiss you.
[] Tackle-hug you.
[X] Talk to you.
[] Slap you.
[] Yell at you.
[] Be secretly loathsome of your presence.
[X] Do nothing.

What are my feelings towards you? (check all that apply)
[X] I like you.
[X] I love you.
[X] I’m IN love with you.
[X] I enjoy your company.
[X] I wish we talked more.
[X] I want to see you.
[X] I miss you.
[] I hate you.
[] I wish I’d never met you.
[] I enjoy seeing you suffer.
[X] Who are you? 

If you died, I would (check all that apply):
[] Not care.
[XX] Be sad.
[X] Cry.
[X] Never recover.
[X] Die of heartbreak. 

Drabble Final Part : Sherlock

Ares: our characters get into a fight be it physical or vocal [specify-also specify what on if you want]

They had been topics they usually avoided talking about, mainly because the other didn’t know HOW to address them. Sherlock was from another time, he had friends and family he eventually needed to get back, and Saintly still had that little problem that she belonged to Hades when she died. Somehow, probably by the influence of alcohol and pent up hormones, the two ended up on the topics. Sitting on the bed, they had been talking, nursing a bottle of rum they had nicked from the restaurant a few cities back. It was running near empty now as Sherlock broke the generally impenetrable ice.

After this whole mutant issue is said and done, I’m going to Hell, and getting your soul back.”

Saintly laughed, thinking this had to be some weird joke that Sherlock wanted to play. “Yes, and when it comes time for you to go home, I won’t let you.”

“I’m being serious.” He said flatly, looking up at her under his mane of black. “I will read every book, perform every spell, go to Hell myself and kick Hades right in the balls and get your soul back.” Under the influence of rum, it sounded like a bang up idea. Couldn’t possibly go wrong. “And when I get your soul back, only then will I feel comfortable leaving.

That stung, and her angered flared enough for her to vocalize it. “Oh, so that’s the plan? Rescue me and then up and leave me?”

I have to go home, Saintly.”

“You don’t.” She moved closer, putting her hand on his.

I do.”

“You don’t!” This time a bit more firm. “You belong here.”

No, I don’t! I’m from the year 2012, I belong in the year 2012, not 1902. We both know that one day I’m going to have to leave.” Sherlock backed away, standing up on already shaky feet. He couldn’t live out the rest of his days here.

“Then don’t bother saving my soul.” Saintly spat, looking away.

For some reason, that stung Sherlock, and his own anger flared. “I won’t let you get dragged to hell when you die! Regardless of whether your fire comes in handy or not, it hurts you! HE will hurt you, and I don’t want that!”

“And you don’t think you leaving me will hurt? I would LOVE to die and go to hell after that! I would THANK hades for the pain and the torture.” Now she was on her feet as well, her voice rising angrily. “Are you really that blind? Sherlock I Lov—”

Her voice cut out, and Sherlock turned towards her, eyebrows knit together. Was she going to say what he thought she was going to say? “Saintly, I can’t stay here, I can’t let you die and spend eternity in Hell and just leave like nothing happened.”

“Then don’t leave at all!”

Come with me! Let me save you and then come with me!” He pleaded, circling around the bed to try and hold her, but she was too stubborn, too proud for that at the moment.

“I belong here…”

Sherlock sighed. “Piracy is dying, you said it yourself. Come live with me, we can find you a new job, we can stay together we can…” The words left him and he stood there, trying to communicate with his eyes, but she wouldn’t look at him.

“I can’t…”

And I can’t stay here…”

Drabbles Part Two : Angst

Sherlock:

Addiction: A drabble (main or AU) about our characters dealing with an addiction [specify who has the addiction- mine, yours, or both]

He was getting worse… At first, it started as an experiment, something he figured he’d try because Holmes had it around and he used it every now and again with little repercussions. So, why couldn’t Sherlock? Saintly had advised against it, telling him that Logan had all but flayed Holmes alive the last time the Detective had used the drug. Assuring her that he knew what he was doing, Sherlock tried cocaine for the first time in many, many years. He had drabbled with the substance a bit in university, but was able to let it go… after some therapy and medicine. But just one more time wouldn’t hurt, right?

The high was amazing; it felt like taking that first sip of water after having had a dry mouth for years. It tasted sweet without having to taste anything. However, it didn’t last, and once he worked off the drug, he fell into a depression. Of course he made it look like he was completely fine, but he felt empty, he needed that cocaine again! But Saintly had asked him not to, had noticed his lack of eating, his sudden depression and silence and she didn’t like it. Promising her he’s be fine, he went a few days without it. Only soon, he had that hunger, that quiet voice saying he should take more, take advantage of it because it was highly illegal back home. Here it was somewhat acceptable!

But he couldn’t take Holmes’ stash, then Holmes would notice and he’d be in serious trouble. He had to find it elsewhere, which couldn’t be hard. So one night, he waited until Saintly was fast asleep, then climbed out of bed, dressed himself and climbed out of the window, silent as the night. No one had heard him… at least, no human had heard him. Logan had been awake down stairs, and heard the boy get up and leave. Of course he knew about the boys run in with the drug, he could smell it on him, smell the sickness in his blood. Sighing, Logan decided it was best to cut this problem right now and not have it fester.

For a genius, you’re a real fucking idiot.” Logan hissed, cutting the young detective off in an alley way. Before Sherlock could really react, the Mutant had a fist full of the boys coat and then backed him against the wall, holding him up and off the ground. “You listen and you listen well, bub. I don’t care if you hate me, I don’t care what you think of me, but if Saintly asks you to not do something repeatedly, the last thing you do is disobey that! She likes you, for some god damn reason she does. And if you do anything that might warrant her to mistrust you, I hope you know Holmes nor I will take mercy on you.” Opening his mouth, Logan back handed him, not even giving the boy the dignity to punch him. “Straighten your shit out, Sherlock. I won’t warn you again.”

They returned home, and Sherlock never touched another ounce of Cocaine again.

Holmes: 

Break: A drabble (main or AU) about my characters having a breakdown of some kind.

The separation had taken its toll on the two, but Holmes was doing what he could to manage. Keeping his mind busy, following clues, trying to think about how Sherlock and Logan would contact them. Saintly, on the other hand, wasn’t faring as well, and the older Detective was finding it harder and harder to keep track of her. One night, she disappeared, and Holmes was up and out of bed, an hour later, searching for her, looking through the streets until he found her huddled in the back of an abandoned ship yard. Bottles lay scattered around a make shift fire, and her eyes didn’t move until Holmes was practically on top of her. His heart ached and he crouched in front of her, hands resting on her shoulders. “We will find them.”

Shut up.” She hissed angrily, throwing the man’s hands off of her and getting to her feet. “Alright? Just. Shut. Up! You keep saying it’ll be okay, you keep saying you’re working on it, but you are getting us nothing! Where’s Logan? He’s still not here! He hasn’t contacted us, he hasn’t come looking, we don’t even know if he’s with—” Her voice trailed, hands balled into fists as she stepped closer to Holmes, looming over him. “How can you be sure he’s even with Sherlock? What if they’re separated and… And he’s already… Already de..”

Stop it! Jimmy! Stop!” From the ground, Holmes could see the slight orange tinge decorating her arm. If she wasn’t careful, and if Holmes wasn’t quick, she could level the entire yard and kill him without meaning to. Holding up his hands, he showed her that he was weak, unarmed and just as scared as she was. “Stop and listen. We both know… that where ever they went, Logan would tear the world apart to make sure Sherlock was safe. And I am doing everything I can! I lost someone just as much as you have, but I can’t let myself think like that. You can’t… let yourself think like that.” With a grunt, he pulled himself to his feet, still holding out his hands to her. “Saintly… It will be okay.”

Her defense slowly fell, and the anger dissipated into pain as she looked pleadingly at Holmes. She hated feeling so helpless, and here she couldn’t do anything, she couldn’t help Sherlock, couldn’t find him. Tears filled her eyes as she fell to her knees, the alcohol taking over her already heightened emotions, and Holmes moved forward, catching her and falling to his knees as well. “I want him back… I need him back!”

I know… I know.” He held her close, gently rubbing her back, letting her cry it out. “I swear to you, I will get him back.”

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By the Boab Tree

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