deliberate effort

It was with a warm hand on Castiel’s shoulder that Chuck watched his son die for the first time. Watched as the archangel shredded Cas under the weight and pull of angelic power. It was messy. It was callous.

Chuck wiped his blood-covered hands on his jeans, feeling the way the slick met rough—what was left of his son smeared on the denim.

Dean had come and gone and Chuck was left, sitting in the red-painted house, knowing that somewhere, his firstborn son was breaking free. Going to end the world.

Chuck sighed, grabbing a bottle of liquor from the counter and taking a deep swig. He could still see the glow in Castiel’s eyes. Not from grace, but from something perhaps more pure. Like a memory of the light once used to create the earth and all the creatures that inhabited it. The light that Chuck had given his creations straight from his own fingertips.

Cas, you beautiful idiot, he had thought as the room shook and he watched his son hold his ground, his last breaths rooted in a pearl of hope for the Earth. Hope placed in the small hands of two forgettable hunters fighting against the rising powers of hell.

The brave sacrifice of the brown-haired, blue eyed angel who died to save the world would likely never be told, but still, Chuck couldn’t help but think that it was the stuff that stories were made of.

It was quiet now, in the kitchen with the reminder of Cas, the man who’d ripped up the pages of destiny and spat in the face of fate. The man who’d scoured the earth in search for God with nothing but a second-hand pendant and a desire to protect.

Chuck closed his eyes, tightly. A desire to protect, he thought, his mind drifting back to the sense of wonder he’d felt when he’d first created his angels.

He sat down and poured a little drink on the floor in tribute before squeezing the bottle between his knees. And he tried not to remember that he had the power to protect, too. To protect the world from the impending apocalypse. To protect Castiel.

He didn’t. He wouldn’t. It was a promise he’d made a long time ago when, in an effort to “save,” he’d purged the earth with water. What surprised him, however, was how men continued to preach in his name, building philosophies and stamping them with heaven’s seal without care to God’s sanctions.

“Maybe my children make better Gods than me,” Chuck considered, finding himself again drawn to the two young brothers that, even now, were facing Michael and Lucifer when even their own God couldn’t.Dean and Sam were better men than their father, Chuck thought, and Cas was a better man than me.

Chuck stared at the way the room wore bits of Cas and wondered at the feelings of sentiment he felt. True, Chuck knew all of his angels, but he couldn’t find it in himself to understand why he felt the world was smaller now in the space since he’d watched Castiel die. After all, it was simply the natural order of things. He created angels like shooting stars: fiery, fierce and beautiful. And, like the meteoroids plowing through the sky, Cas had come too close to the earth, burning up inside the atmosphere.

Once, Chuck had commanded the angels to love the humans. The angels had become volatile, hardened creatures, made for duty with no one to serve. Statues of rigid perfection.

Chuck looked down at his own hands, letting his mind wander through the intricate designs of the human vessel he’d created for himself. Human flesh was so different than the fierce ether of an angel. He’d created them with the heads of beasts and great spanning wings. They were formidable, truly, they were. And yet, Chuck knew, even then, when he’d first birthed them, that humans were his most beautiful creation. They were breakable, small, and beautifully flawed. And, he’d known then, too, that he’d created mankind to save them all. To save the angels. To save himself.

It was his own last beacon of hope, that perhaps they could all become something more than the patterns of war and violence that had emanated from him and poured into his creations.

Chuck smiled as he looked at the Supernatural books, knowing he had found it. His broken children who had become more than their God, willing to die for the sake of the planet.

They had transcended him. He always knew they would. But, what had surprised him was the angel in the dirty trench coat and blue eyes, falling away from heaven’s glory for one man. One human. An angel that had such faith in and love for humanity that he’d given up everything.

Chuck bowed his head to his chest. He wouldn’t, he couldn’t get involved. And yet, he could still hear Castiel’s prayers in the back of his head—months of the angel’s voice crying for an absent God to step in and save his children.

And Chuck knew what he had to do. Though it wasn’t much in the grand scheme of things—a small gesture, really. But significant nonetheless.

Slowly, he leaned down to the floor, touching a spot of red with his finger. He watched as the bits of Cas responded, finding their way back to the whole. It was a fascinating process, to see the parts of Cas’s vessel come together, gathering, binding, creating arms, legs, a face. Until, suddenly, he was staring at the calm features of Cas’s body, laying down with his eyes closed, as if he could be asleep.

Then, with a breath, Chuck pulled light from the skies, infusing grace and soul and power to recreate Castiel’s true form, creating a sacred space inside the simple kitchen of Chuck’s home. It felt wrong, in a way, to bring so much of his God self back to the place where he had gone to leave it all behind. And yet, it also felt right. To put something back together again after such a long time of watching things fall apart.

And, finally, it was done as he gingerly placed Castiel back inside the man laying on the ground. He watched as the vessel’s chest hitched with the first breath of life, and smiled when he looked at the body he’d created just for Cas. For the angel who wanted so badly to love humans. In a way, now he could be one. He thought Cas would like that he’d made him look like Jimmy. That maybe he’d find it easier if he could look in the mirror and see the man whose face had first chosen to be so autonomous and free from heaven.

Cas’s eyes were still closed, and Chuck knew he couldn’t let him wake up here. He couldn’t face his son. Not now. Still, he was surprised to find himself kneeling on the floor of the kitchen, running his hands through the soft parts of Castiel’s hair, his thoughts, surprisingly far away from the ending of the rest of the world. Instead, he placed a kiss on top of Cas’s head, sending him to a beautiful forest, by a stream to wake up.

And then the kitchen was empty again, the clock on the wall ticking loudly, and the stain from the spilled alcohol shining on the floor.

Chuck contemplated what he’d done. Wondered at his own need to break every rule that had bound him for centuries and heal one lowly angel when he’d let hundreds of others die.

But, he thought he already knew the answer. Where Chuck had made humans in a deliberate effort at salvation, one lowly angel had been a surprise. A miracle. And, as Chuck sat back in his chair, he smiled as he admitted it to himself: it turned out that maybe it wasn’t just the humans that were there to save. It turned out that maybe, just maybe, a forgettable, self-sacrificing angel with blue eyes and too much heart could be the one to redeem them all.

Tbh unless you are making a deliberate effort to hear and respectfully acknowledge people’s concerns, anger, or hurt feelings about your behaviour, there is a 100% chance that unspoken resentments are quietly forcing distance into your relationships.

If people feel like they can have a productive conversation with you when something’s not working, tiny things can be adjusted as you go instead of building into the kind of huge divides that end relationships bitterly.

Communication goes both ways. You gotta be able to take in what they need to say, or they’ll stop telling you when something’s wrong.

Strokes Like Speech - Jughead x Artist!Reader

This was requested so here you go! Hope you enjoy! :)


Originally posted by maclexa-bane

Your eyes flit up to Jughead, who’s seated a few tables away from you at Pop’s. You take in the tousled black hair that escapes his grey beanie, roving your eyes over his face and torso before looking back down at the sketchbook in your hands. You start to map out his features, hoping that you’ll be able to do him justice, humming to yourself quietly. You carry on in this manner for a few minutes, your pencil moving across the page with practiced ease, at least, until you look up and see Jughead looking straight at you. His frown deepens as he narrows his eyes, and you drop your gaze back to your sketchbook on the table.

Keep reading

Actually, I have a fairly good idea of exactly WHY tumblr ads suck so hard,

 and why they’re failing so badly at appealing to youth, and they never seem to be paying attention to the HEAPS OF CRITICISM, even when most all the notes on their sponsored posts are specifically telling them, in detail, why they suck. 

(sorry for the long post)

First of all, they are actually listening. 

My dad works in advertising and graphic design, he’s in this industry, and he certainly listens to me every single time I talk about the memes, the culture of the internet and today’s youth and all the hip things like that. He’s gotta. This is his job, his paycheck really depends on whether or not he knows exactly how to appeal to whatever target audience the company wants him to appeal to. He’s got to be hip on all the memes, internet slang, popular music and media, because if he doesn’t, he’s gonna get replaced by a younger guy fresh out of art school. So you bet your ass he’s gonna listen and pay attention and ask questions whenever his 19-year-old daughter’s talking about DWC, the new game that Blizzard just released, or Hillary Clinton’s pathetic attempts to get the youth vote. 

As you can imagine, everyone in marketing is trying their damned hardest to make sure their content appeals. By this point, they know exactly why content doesn’t appeal, because they’ve analyzed why things do and dont appeal from every possible angle. People literally go to school for this. They attend workshops. 

So if that’s the case, then wtf is happening? 

Why do we get shit like this

spammed all over our feeds? 

Well it’s a bunch of factors, and not all of it is the age of the people making this content. 

See, the internet and social media has actually brought a kind of mini-crisis upon the marketing industry. They have to constantly be appealing to kids these days, or they quickly become irrelevant, uncool. Every day, individual advertisers, and the industry as a whole, has to ask themselves what appeals to this generation, what can they offer that would appeal to the kids these days? 

They’ve got a crisis on their hands right now, because, to put it simply, we all hate advertisements. With a burning passion

And they’ve noticed this, they’ve noticed that internet youth as a whole will go to any possible lengths to avoid ads, that we’ll download extensions, avoid websites, even fucking pay money if it means we won’t have to deal with any goddamn ads, and then when we do see ads, we’ll relentlessly mock them on every possible flaw we can find. 

They had a whole decade to notice their audience’s overwhelmingly negative response to anything that’s trying to sell them shit. They are fully aware how annoying their very existence is to us. 

So right now, what they’re trying to do is make ads that don’t look like ads

The first thing they figured they should do, was that instead of doing banner ads and sidebar ads and video interruptions in your youtube and spotify, they should be doing sponsored posts: write up their ads in post form, put them up on a designated corporate account on a popular social media site, then pay the site to seed those posts on everyone’s feed. There you go. It’s an ad, but it doesn’t look like an ad. Maybe the internet people won’t be as annoyed now, because it’s just a post in their feed, it’s not disrupting their experience in any significant way like other ads do. 

Well, they tried that, and it didn’t work. It didn’t really matter that now it was all in accordance with the natural functions of the site, pretty much all of us could see that this, 

is a fucking ad. That’s a goddamn ad that’s being put on our feeds against our will. Nobody followed fucking Microsoft, why in fuck would we do that? there’s nothing but ads on that account, and who the fuck wants ads? 

So now they have to go back to the drawing board, and figure out another way to make these ads appealing, even though they’re ads and everyone hates ads. 

So the marketing guys noticed how a new meme causes everyone to suddenly gain interest in a new piece of media, and how quickly viral content will spread in general. How, say, all those Doritos and Mountain Dew in MLG montages are basically free advertising, or how the slew of viral videos featuring horse head masks caused the sale of those particular horse head masks to skyrocket, etc etc. 

In the memes, they found a possible solution to this near-impossible conundrum that the industry is trapped in.

Basically, the way to make your ads not look like ads, is to make them look like your average viral content. You have to turn your brand into a meme in order to appeal. 

It was actually probably Denny’s that figured out the formula first, and they’re probably still one of the most successful examples. 

Think about it. Did Denny’s even HAVE to sponsor their posts? Or did we just all willingly reblog them because they were so fuckin weird, and we couldn’t believe a corporation was doing this shit? 

But now here’s the problem, and this is why the ads are failing to appeal, even more than obvious reasons like “they’re all putting existing and outdated memes in their ads, and its really uncreative and out of touch”: 

The problem is there’s no direct interaction with the audience. 

You know how the Denny’s blog answers asks? That’s exactly the sort of thing that’s lacking from all these corporate blogs, that’s why they’re still really obvious adspewers, and thus, why they’re so damn annoying (other than all the piggybacking on outdated memes, ofc). 

Other than Denny’s, I’ve only seen two isolated situations where a corporate blog actually responded to feedback of any kind: 

  1. That one time that a visual novel app actually announced two lesbian love interests in response to someone demanding gay content.
  2. That one time Episode got self-aware and mentioned Tumblr in an ad

The first response garnered actual respect for the app, while Episode’s ad caused everyone to burst into mock panic (which was par for the course, given how their strategy seems to be “become infamous for our wild ads, and maybe someone will be curious to try out our app”). 

Given how most of us will accept ads in the form of “signal boosts” from fellow tumblr users, it’s basically a given that, as a whole, we respond much better once we’re assured there’s an actual genuine person behind the ad, who is sincerely trying to reach out to us. 

So you know, why the fuck do all these marketing blogs, Episode, Battlecamp, Funyuns, Game of War, etc. 

why do they

never

actually

talk to us? 

It’s simple:  

they can’t actually talk to us. 

Corporations have rules, regulations. These advertisers running the marketing accounts aren’t CEOs, they’re not even managers, they’re most likely low-level workers in the midst of the marketing branch of the company, a branch that, for the most part, has to follow the rules of the company, and are under extreme pressure (from company lawyers and the PR department) not to do anything out-of-line. 

Actually responding to asks or reblogs are a huge risk, and the people who command the guys who run these blogs have a bajillion reasons why they don’t want some bloody grunt to go saying whatever the hell they want on the official corporation’s tumblr blog.They could say something off-color and cause a scandal, or they could ruin the company’s professional reputation just by acting like a human being. When they log into that blog, the low-level grunt is supposed to be representing the entire corporation, a body made up of hundreds or thousands of people. You’d better damn well make sure they’re saying the right thing.

Running the official Denny’s blog probably takes a very organized and deliberate effort, along with a hella lot of risk, all to make those weird posts, reply to asks, even to figure out the perfect blend of surrealism and mundanity, while at the same time ensuring their product actually looks appealing. it probably takes a whole team to run that blog, if we’ll be honest. There’s probably 10 mods, who all have to be in close contact with not only each other, but with the boss. The boss has to trust them to not fuck up. It probably took a lot of careful planning and communication in order to figure out a stable system for all that. 

Episode couldn’t make a response to tumblr that wasn’t formatted like one of their usual ads, and they only made their (pseudo) response after a string of increasingly weirder ads convinced them that such a daring move like mentioning tumblr wouldn’t be a total disaster (well, more like convinced them that “total disaster” is something that should actually be their marketing ploy from now on).

Kisses and Curses (the aforementioned paranormal romance app) obviously was planning the female love interests already, and saw in that single comment a good opportunity to officially announce them. They also are most likely a smaller company, probably a single team that’s doing double duty on both content creation and marketing, giving them much less red tape if they wanted to answer a question like “but do the lesbians die,” or model future content after the desires of their target audience. They have a lot more freedom to be human, is what I’m trying to say. 

And while it’s fully possible that something can reach viral status and be beloved as a brand without having to respond directly to their audience, it’s pretty impossible to intentionally pull that sort of thing off, especially when you’re advertising a product or service. That kind of viral fame depends on being unexpected and unexplained, an enigma, really, and as a result, any strategy you find that actually works will only ever work the first time. The second person who tries the same thing will be labeled an obvious copycat.

TL;DR: the field of advertising is struggling to figure out how to adapt to an audience that hates the very existence of ads, and their only strategy is to make their ads less and less ad-like, and make their marketing accounts more like actual users and content creators. 

However, due to the structure and size of the companies themselves, they can’t actually do that. Fully committing to their emulation of content creators would mean they’d have to let the employees who run these blogs freely respond to their audience, and actively communicate with them. That’s a risk that no company is fully willing to take, and thus, all these advertisers are forced to make shitty content bandwagoning off the latest trends, and cross their fingers that someone finds the mess appealing on an ironic level. 

Everyone’s pretty much stuck between a rock and a hard place, and the only way out of the shitty ads is to literally redefine the whole concept of marketing, because we just flat-out hate all ads nowadays, no matter what they are or how they come to us.  

I’m gonna be honest; before the stolen century I really was neutral towards Merle as a character. Yeah, there were parts that were memorable (the vine seduction scene, chasing Cassidy into the mines, rescuing taako and Magnus in suffering game), but besides that I didn’t really feel much for him. At least not nearly as much as I felt for the other two, and I never really understood why he was “the peacemaker” of the group, considering his main character trait is being a bit of a jerk and, a lot of times, actively disrupting the peace. 

That is, until the current arc, and it’s also why I love the format Griffin took in these last few sessions. The really exposition-heavy and dialogue driven playmaking has really allowed Clint, and through Clint, Merle, to shine. We get to see a man that, yeah, can still be crass and have bad social timing, but seems to be so much softer around the edges. A man who, in the present, actually considers himself a burden when in IPRE he’s the only creature ever to be able to talk to the hunger. Not only that, but keeps going back, death after brutal death, until he makes the amalgamation of an unfathomable amount of cosmos and realities, feel. Implied for the first time in millennia. A man who connected with and brought religion and hope to an entire city then stayed with them despite knowing that if they failed with retaining the light they would be devoured, and even if they succeeded he would never see these people again. But he stayed, “because there is no place I would rather be, than right here, with you all”. Who saw the hidden brilliance and skill of Lucretia quite literally setting her on her path of confidence and leadership while making a deliberate effort to include her when others seem let themselves get pushed away. I would argue he’s the most important member of the entire crew, and with an irreverence that is a blessing in the past (and a curse in the present without his memories and people he considers his family to hold him up), because he doesn’t realize how integral he really is. It’s what makes him so, so amazing and interesting of a character study. 

Without Griffin going in this narrative direction we never would’ve seen any of it. I know some people have been complaining about this arc in the terms of being too boring or narrative-heavy, but I love it and think those people should give it more of a chance. I’m really not trying to come across as one of those people who try and “protect” the McElroys from criticism because “they’re perfect, pure, boys” etc. Without people talking to them and sharing their thoughts in an open and constructive way we might’ve not had Killian/Carey, Lup, or several other show favorites! I want them to continue to grow and learn! Would I like 60+ episodes of this narrative format? No, but I think Griffin made the best choice he could given he had so much to do exposition-wise. Personally, I enjoy narrations that tie everything together; it makes returning to past parts and seeing scenes in a completely different way super fun and enjoyable! Even if people don’t enjoy it, I just hope they recognize the value in everything Griffin has done, and also truly see the extraordinary dwarf that is Merle Highchurch, like I now do. 

entp gothic

-“wow, Ne doms are so random lol xD” your friend says, looking over your shoulder. You look up accusingly from the twelve page essay entitled “Why Plato’s Republic Will Save America If People Only Read It”, which you wrote in about two hours. “What’s random about this?” You ask, before realizing your entire academic life has conformed to stereotypes, including really asshole-ish footnotes in every paper constantly attacking the very sources you’ve used for all your work.

-You look down. Your socks definitely don’t match. They never match. Your low si makes you keep buying more socks but one always goes missing. You have two drawers of unmatched socks. People think you purposely mismatch socks to be random. But your socks are missing. They’ve been missing for years.

-you haven’t eaten in two days. You don’t even recall using the bathroom. It’s like your entire body is dedicated to forgetting your needs. You have, however, taken a bath and made several cups of coffee. You wonder why your inferior Si is so selective. You then pass out from lack of sleep. Oh yeah, you have been up for 50 hours.

-your judger friends always ask you how you do it. “Do what?” You ask, trying desperately not to make fun of their frantic eyes. “How do you pass your classes? I’ve never seen you do any work.” You smile. The best kept XNTP secret will remain a mystery to everyone. Even yourself.

-“why are you so mean?” Someone says. You don’t remember ever meeting this person, but apparently, your reputation precedes you. Someone else chimes in, “but you’ve paid for all my coffees this week? How are you mean?” because you are Ne dom, you can never decide on when to be nice and when to be an asshole, so it ends up looking random to everyone. “Haha…. I’m so… random… xD” you spit out, trying not to scream.

-you’ve switched sides six times in this debate. This will be the seventh. “Please stop doing this”, a group member says. You can’t decide if it’s a bothered feeler or an exasperated xstj. But you’re biased towards one side, so you have to vehemently argue for the opposite, since being unbiased is ideal. AN INTP next to you informs you that putting a deliberate effort into being unbiased is actually a bias in itself. You sit down. Your life is a lie.

- you come to hte conclusion hat you’re constantly misspelling thjgs, and uuu do it so often your iPhone has started autocrecvtting mospeed words to other miaowed words. You oftdn DJ t notice util it’s too late. The MESSgs has been sent, adn you can’t take it bCam. Oh yeah, what’s WITH the radom capitaized words?

RFA + Valentine's Day

Jumin spends weeks telling anyone who will listen about the commercial origins of the event and its close relationship to flower sales and chocolates etc etc. If MC brings it up to him, he might even tell them about the projects he is working on and which items he expects to turn a profit. He is also the one who sends MC dozens of roses at their workplace, multiple little gifts throughout the day and ultimately takes them to a candlelit dinner.

Yoosung will have grumpily scolded Jumin every time he complained about the worth of Valentine’s Day. He would spend ages thinking up the perfect gift to show his affections, write poetry in the back of his class texts and gift MC the cutest, punniest card (I ruff you!) ever, along with a bouquet of red roses (which he possibly bought instead of groceries). He would also have spent the longest time teasing MC about what their gift might be or that he might forget, when everyone and their nan knows he won’t forget.

Zen is so over the top enthusiastic about having someone on Valentine’s that he makes plans in January. He wants to do all of the schmoozy couples stuff like going to see a movie and kissing in the back row. First thing that morning, he will show up at their door with a single red rose like “be my valentine”? Also, it wouldn’t be Zen if he didn’t reference getting MC to put on some of the lacy underwear that’s new in that season. Valentine’s Day is a MUCH bigger deal for him than MC, lol.

Seven is probably not that into Valentine’s Day but he’d make a very deliberate effort. He’d give MC some of those joke love hearts candies that are like “smelly head” and “dingus” before taking them out for a long ride in his car that evening. They can sit under the stars and eat candies and laugh at exactly what statements are printed on them, like “this one says ‘you smell’ on it. Clearly it was made for you”.

Jaehee is almost definitely going to end up snowed under with work (it’s the snowball effect: Chief Han probably wants to do something romantic so throws more work in Jumin’s direction, which means Jaehee ends up with more etc etc). Also true if her route is completed. She possibly was also of the opinion that Valentine’s Day was too commercial, but she leaves MC a card and some handmade chocolates next to the phone, where she usually leaves notes and things (and blushes like a beacon the next time they see each other).

Saeran won’t fully understand the day (a day for love? Sounds fake but ok) but he won’t say no to MC showering chocolates in his general direction. MC will wake up to find a really beautiful flower on their pillow, but if they ask Saeran about it he’ll go a bright red and be like fUck if I know.

It’s at this point that MC finds out V has been keeping really detailed journals from the beginning of their relationship and on Valentine’s Day, he makes a little scrapbook of pictures, pressed flowers and anecdotes from the first time they met to the present day. It’s also further proof that he’s a gross goober, but if they’re dating him, they probably know this already, since he makes a habit of sending them flowers and love notes.

Fact-Checking Maki

Now that we know Maki’s primary motive in tri., it’s easy to lean one way or another as far as her trustworthiness. But why go off a gut reaction or what other characters are saying about either her or the statements she’s made to the Chosen? Let’s go back to movie 3 and do some fact-checking!

We’re going to focus on Confession because this is the first time she fully conveys information to the Chosen and their partners. Prior to that, the only ones she can potentially deceive are Daigo and the bureau (we don’t hear her conversations with Meiko). Those may become important, but she says so little in movie 1 and isn’t specific enough in movie 2 to warrant a deeper analysis. Yet.

Keep reading

  • Keith: Lance, what are you doing?
  • Lance, internally: Keith really shouldn't be possible. Genetic compatibility aside, how was the genitalia even compatible? It's possible that Keith's father could have been trans and the one to get pregnant with Keith, but Keith hasn't mentioned anything to that effect so probably not, just going by statistics. In that case his mom, the one that his Galra genes come from, was probably the one that got pregnant. But we haven't seen any female Galra, unless Galra gender presentation and secondary sexual characteristics are so alien to our own that we simply haven't realized that any of them are child-bearing, if they even follow Earth's mammalian system regarding penetration and pregnancy at all. If we assume that Keith's mom, who was part or full Galra herself, was the one that got pregnant, then does that mean she had a uterus, ovaries, cervix, and vagina that were compatible with human penetrative genitalia? If we assume that some kind of artificial alterations or insemination were performed to bridge biological incompatibilities it adds a whole new layer to the deliberate nature of the effort to create a galra/human hybrid.
  • Lance, aloud: Hey Keith, did your parents plan on having you or what?
You’re a Monster...

I’d like to point out something I realized. Someone else has probably pointed it out, but here it goes…

So the big reveal was Kylo Ren BEN SOLO taking off his mask before Rey. Others have already elaborated upon this scene, so I shouldn’t need to explain why it’s so important. 

Originally posted by boomdafunk

What I do want to delve into is Rey’s line to Ben directly after he kills his father. She calls him a monster, and the film makes a deliberate effort to show you his expression at this as well as his sharp retort, which I honestly feel has many layered meanings, but let’s keep it simple for this post. 

“It’s just us now. Han Solo can’t save you.”

(Someone can reblog with the gif of this if they find it. <3)

That was said, in my opinion, as a jab directly at Rey, because – if Ben is being totally honest with himself – her bitter words cut him deeper than he’d have liked. He shouldn’t be opposed to being called a monster, yet he is (especially by the girl he’d unmasked for). Look at his eyes, his face, after she says the words. His subsequent remark is made to provoke her, but just as she raises the weapon, he force pushes her into a tree effectively knocking her out for the time being. Then he focuses on Finn and lets his anger drive him. Notice when Rey wakes up and the saber goes to her that Ben’s whole attitude changes. 

Not to mention he hammers his fist into his side in this scene and Rey sees his blood in the snow. All symbolic.

Rey is Ben’s tether – for the audience – to his compassion and humanity. Through her perspective, because this is her journey, we see Kylo Ren flickering back and forth from his true self to this hazy mirage of what he thinks he wants to be. He is a dying candle in a room with no light and no oxygen. His compassion is the traitor to his bastard persona Kylo Ren, yet compassion is part of Ben Solo and Ben Solo is what made Kylo Ren. Kylo Ren will never be immune to his humanity. No one can change that and Snoke is going to find out just how fatal of a mistake manipulating Ben’s life will be for him… soon.

The Ben Solo vs. Snoke showdown will be glorious. 

Kidge Week Day 1 ~ Jealousy

Pidge stalked out of the team meeting, unreasonably irritated that the automatic door prevented her from slamming it. She was vaguely aware of a voice behind her calling her name but she ignored it, simply intent on getting away. Whatever it was could wait until she felt better able to deal with it. That moment was certainly not ideal, not with so many emotions roiling through her and rising up until she felt like she was about to choke.

“For cripe’s sake Pidge, get a grip,” she chastised herself as she leaned against the wall, one hand clenching into a fist. “You’re completely over-reacting to something -”

“Pidge! I finally caught up with you!”

She tensed at the closeness of the voice, and also in response to its owner. She made a deliberate effort to relax her clenched fist and took a couple of deep breaths before turning around. “What do you want, Keith?”

He managed to not rear back from her aggressive tone, but only just. “I was…” He pushed a hand through his messy hair. “You walked out before the meeting was over, which isn’t like you. I was concerned.”

“You needn’t be,” she said, turning and beginning to walk away. “I’m fine. And it wasn’t like I was needed in that meeting, anyway. You and Allura were doing just -” She all but bit her tongue to stop the rest of the words, not liking how it sounded.

“Pidge. . .”

“Look, can we not have this conversation right now? Or, if we need to have it now can we not have it in a hallway?”

There was a long, drawn out moment of silence before Keith nodded once and walked past Pidge, taking her hand and tugging her along behind him. She thought that they were headed to the quarters of one of them, but Keith simply keyed open the first door they came to and gestured for Pidge to proceed him into the room.

Which turned out to be a storage closet that was barely large enough for the two of them. Meaning there was nowhere to go to get away from Keith’s penetrating stare. Nowhere to escape from the warmth of his body where it touched hers. And no chance of avoiding a conversation that she very much did not want to have. When Keith took a deep breath his chest brushed against hers and she quickly crossed her arms in a defensive gesture that did not go unnoticed.

“Okay, so, first of all,” Keith began, voice oddly tentative. Pidge held up a hand to stop him before he got any further.

“No, let me go first.” She inhaled deeply and let out a sigh. “I need to apologize for storming out the way I did. But, in all honesty, I felt like I wasn’t needed. You guys were talking about who was going to take over as Red’s pilot, after all, and I’m hardly in the running for that job -”

“Wait, what?! How -?”

“Keith. I’m the least experienced of all the pilots available, and that includes Coran. I’m hardly the ideal choice to deal with Red’s temperamental nature and her other… issues.”

“Pidge.” His hands landed on her shoulders and slid down to her elbows, tugging lightly until she uncrossed her arms. “I understand what you’re saying, and to an extent I agree with you. But it might surprise you to know that everyone is in agreement that you are the ideal person to become the Red Lion’s new pilot.” A tiny smile made one corner of his mouth twitch.

She couldn’t keep her jaw from dropping. “ME?! Why?”

Keith laughed at her incredulous response. “Quite a few reason, actually, but mainly because you have the strongest bond with her after me. She respects everyone else, but it’s a bit begrudging.” He reached out with one hand and toyed with the hair by Pidge’s ear. “You she loves.”

Pidge actually felt her heart skip a beat, but her contrary nature couldn’t let it go. “Emotions aside you know as well as I do that Allura, or even Lance, would do a better job than me. They’re better pilots, better fighters, and, well, you certainly seem to have gotten much more comfortable with Allura since -”

A finger touched her lips, halting the words. “Pidge, are you…” Keith’s voice trailed off before he chuckled softly. “Are you jealous?”

She stepped back away from him as far as she could, which in that confined space wasn’t far at all. She wanted to scoff at his suggestion, to laugh it off, but she couldn’t. It was uncomfortably close to the truth, and as a result she was unable to meet his eyes. “Stop it,” she mumbled.

The hand that had been playing with her hair was back, only this time the fingers sank into the light brown waves and guided her head so she was looking up and into Keith’s eyes again. “That is so cute,” he softly said, pressing a kiss to her forehead. “But unnecessary, as you damn well know. There’s never been anyone else for me, not from the moment we first formed Voltron.” He crooked a finger under her chin, bringing their lips closer together. “Sword and shield, remember? You can’t have one without the other.”

“Even now that you’re piloting the Black Lion?” Pidge asked.

“Even now. And for always,” was the whispered reply before their lips came together.

@kidgeweek

Why Olicity is Possible NOW

Okay, this began as response to @tdgal1 to this lovely post that began from @almondblossomme here. But it got out of hand so I decided to make a separate post.

I agree @tdgal1, I feel like we have seen through Oliver’s actions all season long that he respects Felicity and he makes a deliberate effort to include her in decisions. This was especially obvious at the beginning of the season. With the new recruits. Oliver is the leader of Team Arrow but more and more this season it was clear they were co-leaders. The new recruits clearly see them this way.

The co-leader was again reinforced by Oliver when he reminded Felicity she doesn’t work for him. I don’t think Felicity has missed any of this. He’s respecting her and including her in all his current decisions. I believe she was included in Arrow decisions in the past, Oliver has always valued her opinion - but what we saw this season was Oliver deliberately asking her questions to show she was included. He also demonstrated that he respected her decisions, even when he disagreed - the new recruits!

I don’t think Oliver changed his actions to “win her back.” I think he knows he messed up and he would happily make it up to her for the rest of his life, even if that means they aren’t together. He really thinks that door is closed. But if it cracks open an inch, it would be interesting to see what he does…

So while they have barely spoken, which is heartbreaking - they are both still hyper aware of each others actions. Felicity has seen the changes she has needed. He has shown her through actions that he won’t lie to her again - he told her he killed her boyfriend…which I think would have come up anyway but STILL.

Felicity was right to end their relationship when she did and I think it has little to do with her abandonment issues - which she has. But leaving your boyfriend because he lied to you for MONTHS about having a child and then kept you out of decision about their future family is common sense and self-respecting. She deserved to be treated better. He did not trust or include her.

Now, Oliver is using every opportunity to show he trusts her - not pushing her on the Helix thing and includes her in decisions - aka new team.

This is why I believe them reuniting at anytime is possible. The work has been done. They just need to talk and then continue to build on that foundation. So kissing, sex - all of it can happen now!

Originally posted by almeidalea01

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sassamyblake  asked:

First of all Mel congrats congrats you deserve a billion followers!!! <3 Could I please have option one: “I’m your lock screen?!” - “You weren’t supposed to see that.” for Bellarke?

THANK YOU CAITLYN ily!!!! <3 

your bellarke fic:

The first time he notices it, they’re on the couch, watching TV.

Clarke’s in the kitchen getting them fresh beers, when a familiar ‘ding’ sounds from her phone. Bellamy knows it’s Clarke’s phone, because his phone is pretty much always switched to silent mode.

(Loud alert sounds make him anxious, okay? Sue him.)

“Clarke! Text!” he calls over his shoulder, one hand automatically reaching out to grab her phone from where it’s lying face down on the other end of the couch.

To his utter surprise, Clarke bursts into the living room like a blonde hurricane, bounding from the kitchen to the couch within a single leap to snatch up the phone.

“Got it, thanks,” she says, evidently breathless from her haste.

His brow arches upward as he takes in her harried appearance. “You… okay?”

“Yep, fine,” she says, the phone held up to her nose. “It’s just Harper. Work stuff. The usual.”

He nods slowly, eyeing her up and down. “… Did you get the beers?”

Her head snaps up, and she shoves the phone into her pocket. “Oh, yeah. Uh. Be right back.”




The second time he notices it, they’re at the bar with the gang.

“All right, Blake,” Clarke says with a roll of her eyes. “You got lucky. I’ll give you that.”

“Unbelievable,” Bellamy scoffs good-naturedly, preening a little as he racks up for another round of pool. “You’re probably the only person on the planet who would call call winning twice in a row ‘luck’.”

She shrugs unconcernedly, swiping up her half-empty beer bottle with her free hand. “Well, maybe it’s a little bit of skill, too. Just, like, twenty percent. And maybe, I don’t know, fifteen percent concentrated power of will.”

“Zero percent pleasure,” Bellamy says, gesturing for her to break. “For you, that is. When you lose for a third time.”

“You’re terrible at this whole referencing songs thing, by the way,” she informs him as she moves around him to get to the other end of the table.

“And you’re terrible at pool,” he retorts easily without any heat. At the sound of a familiar ‘ding’, he automatically glances sideways to where their phones are sitting on the high table beside them.


And then he steps back in surprise when Clarke practically throws herself in front of him to get to her phone.

“I got it,” she says quickly, all but shielding the entire table from him with her body.

“Okay,” he says, one brow raised. “Something urgent?”

She hunches over her phone for a few brief moments, thumbs flicking over the screen.

“Nope, nothing,” she says, her voice oddly strained. “Just… work. As always.”

He watches as she finishes off with a clearly forced laugh, setting the phone back down on the table — face down this time, the screen hidden from view.

She loses the game, even more efficiently than the last two.




Over the next week, he suddenly can’t stop noticing how vigilantly Clarke keeps her phone to herself.

She always keeps it on her side of the couch when they watch TV, instead of leaving it on the coffee table like he does.

She makes consistent, deliberate efforts to place it face down whenever she has to let go of it.

And, she never, ever lets Bellamy so much as peek at the screen. Not even to check the damn time.

It’s fucking weird. Clarke’s always been a pretty private person, but she’s never been touchy about her stuff. At some point, he starts to wonder if she’s having some kind of secret affair with Harper. Or someone else from work.

And then one day, fate comes a-knocking.




“This has got to be too much basil,” he says, shaking his head at the small mountain of chopped herbs sitting on the kitchen counter before raising his voice. “Clarke? Are you sure it’s this much basil?”

A muffled response chimes in from down the hall, but it’s too distant to make sense of.

“Is that a no?” he calls, cautiously prodding at the raw slabs of meat in front of him.

Another response sounds from Clarke’s room, somehow even more muffled than the one before.

Bellamy sighs, glancing at Clarke’s phone sitting on the kitchen table. She’d been reading a recipe off the screen for the last twenty minutes, but now that she’d disappeared into her room to look for something or other, he’s suspended in a temporary limbo.

He glances towards the hall. No movement.

Blowing out a breath, Bellamy reaches for the phone. It’s JUST to check the recipe, he tells himself as his hand closes around the device. It’s completely irrational to be nervous about checking a goddamn RECIPE.

And that’s when Clarke chooses to reappear in the kitchen. Because, of course. 

“Okay, forget it, I couldn’t find the—” She freezes in the threshold, her eyes rounding with panic. “What are you—”

He holds up her phone, his jaw hanging slack. “I’m your lock screen?!”

“What,” Clarke snaps automatically, her face contorting with some strange hybrid of fear and embarrassment. “Wha— no.”

He stares at her, her phone still held up in his hand. “'No’, as in, this isn’t my face on your lock screen right now?”

Clarke blinks, and then lunges toward him, snatching the phone out of his grasp.

“You weren’t supposed to see that,” she grumbles.

He thinks it might be intended as irritable. Instead, it comes off as flustered.

“Clarke,” he says, forcing himself to refrain from smiling.

“It’s just a lock screen, okay?” she snipes, stuffing the phone into the pocket of her shorts before stalking past him towards the basil mountain on the counter. “Don’t make a thing of it.”

“Clarke,” he repeats, planting his hands on his hips as he turns to face her.

“Everybody has weird lock screens sometimes, Bellamy,” she continues, grabbing a pinch of basil and forcefully sprinkling it all over the raw steaks. (More like throwing it at the steaks, he notes.) “Doesn’t necessarily mean—”

Clarke.”

What,” she snaps, whirling around sharply.

He waits, his phone held in his outstretched hand.

“Wow,” she finally manages after a long beat. “Uh. I mean. Wow.” She tilts her head, as if considering one of her many paintings. “That's… actually not a terrible photo of me.”

“Yes,” he says dryly, despite the disconcertingly warm flush spreading across his cheeks. “I’m aware.”

A brief silence stretches between them.

“So,” Clarke says, her chin jutting upwards in that way it always does when she’s trying too hard to appear nonchalant.

Bellamy nods, fully conscious of the way his ears are burning. “So.”

She crosses her arms over her middle, one smug brow quirked. “Why am I your lock screen?”

He almost doesn’t recover in time to return her smirk with one of his own.

“Well,” he says, tucking his phone in his back pocket before taking a step towards her, “I gotta say — it’s because you’re so damn good at pool.”

He doesn’t mind the punch she manages to land on his shoulder right before he kisses her.

It’s a little because the punch is weak as hell. (He’s seen her punch for real. Her left hook is mean as fuck.)

It’s mostly because of the way she’s already grinning breathlessly, eyes bright and cheeks pink.

Jealous ~ 10K/Reader

Citizen Z flirts with the reader over the video chat and 10K gets jealous and sassy.
I can just imagine 10K being jealous and because he’s quite young and never really had a girlfriend before? I don’t know…

__________________________________________

The screen lit up with Citizen Z’s grinning face on it, there was a small camera above this which you assumed meant that he could see you too.

“Hey, its Citizen Z!” You grinned up at the image on the screen.

Hi! (Y/N). Looking gorgeous as always.” You blushed lightly as you were confused at the action. Luckily you were saved by the embarrassment as Citizen Z asked to see Murphy, who was standing beside 10K and moved him out of the way slightly so he could come in to view. This action made 10K rub up against your back and you turned around to look at his eyes but he was looking stoically ahead, seemingly at Citizen Z.

You faced forward continuing to listen to Citizen Z talking about the mission and where you would be going to next.

The mission is a go, thanks to yours truly. That’s good news, right?” Citizen Z’s voice rang out.

“Good news would be a package of Oreos and a couple gallons of milk.” 10K muttered sarcastically, glaring up at the virtual image of Citizen Z.

Citizen Z instructed you on where to go next and you all piled out of the small room, making your way towards the truck. You climbed in to the truck bed along with 10K but he made an effort to deliberately sit as far away from you as possible.

“10K, what is the matter with you today?”

“Nothing,” He muttered, looking anywhere but at you. You raised an eyebrow.

“You know I know when you’re lying right?” You lifted yourself up and sat down beside 10K, your legs touching.

“Tell me what’s wrong, please?”

“I said nothing. Why don’t you go back and talk to your boyfriend.” He mumbled.

Boyfriend?

Oh.

You burst out laughing and 10K looked towards you with even more hurt in his eyes. “He’s not my boyfriend, 10K.” You managed to get out between laughter,

“I don’t think the apocalypse is the time for long distance relationships" 10K didn’t reply but you could see the pink on his cheeks and the stiffness of his body. 

"Anyway. I’m just waiting on the right guy,” You smiled gently towards him. You had a feeling 10K might like you but you didn’t want to act upon it just in case. You knew about how much interaction he had with women in the past. Being so young when the apocalypse started. He was definitely a man now though, his now muscular arms proving this. 

“Puppies and kittens,” You snapped yourself out of your daze as Warren alerted everyone to the incoming zombie. 

10K lifted his rifle up with ease and fired a shot that was slightly over your head. You had no fear because you knew 10K’s aim was always on point. The zombie dropped to the ground and 10K lowered his rifle, leaning back against the truck beside you, your legs still touching.

“Well I hope you find the right guy.” He muttered.

“Yeah, I think I have.” You said, smiling sincerely at him. 10K looked back at you confused. You simply leaned over and took his hand in your own, threading your fingers together, facing back towards the road, the wind from the moving vehicle whipping through your hair. 10K squeezed your hand slightly in return, his features going from confused to happy, leaning back on the truck beside you.

“You know, you’re cute when you’re jealous” You smirked.

“I was not jealous.”

headcanon that after second year james potter always made a very deliberate and conscious effort to refer to remus as “our remus,” ie:

  • “hallo, is that our remus?”
  • “good lord, that’s not our remus that’s lost 20 house points trip-jinxing slytherins, is it?”
  • “where’s our remus got to?”

and then later, “our moony”:

  • “our moony’s always been the best with charms, anyway, eh?”
  • “just going to get our moony a bite to eat, since he’s missed breakfast”
  • “OUR MOONY, A BLOODY PREFECT?!”

he started to do this early on, because james potter was a giant posh wanker brought up in a household where people said things like “good heavens!” and “my dear chap,” and james was someone who never knew how to not sound like a good old boy, but he also and more importantly did this early on, and consistently, even when remus wasn’t around, so that it would feel perfectly natural all the time to all four of them. 

and he did it, early on, because even from a very young age, james realized that remus lupin fought constantly against himself to feel like he deserved their friendship, and james potter wanted him to know, every day, that he did – that he belonged.

The Kingkiller Chronicles: A Summary
  • Kvothe: Man! It sure is great having every conceivable advantage except parents.
  • Kvothe: I can shred lute and act, I've memorized most significant literature, I'm a clinical genius, the wizardmaster, AND I'm good at everything I try!
  • Kvothe: Oh look! A social or financial situation!
  • Readers:
  • Kvothe: Think I should fuck it up?
  • Readers: No don't
  • Kvothe: Fuck it up?
  • Readers: No DON'T fuck it up
  • Kvothe: You're sure?
  • Readers: It would take so much deliberate effort to fuck this up
  • Kvothe: I think I'll fuck it up!
Yes, Mustard! - Sexual Healing

This slightly different take on drug play was inspired by … well, you can probably figure that out on your own.  ;^)

© Copyright 2017 by Wiseguy


My naked ass hit the bed with a solid thump and I sat there, panting, while Dani worked my shorts and underwear down my legs and off, taking extra care around the massive construct of bandaging that mummified my lower left leg and foot.

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anonymous asked:

Prompt: Sportacus gets very self conscious about his ability to purr. So when he does it, it'll take like a few minutes for him to realize he's doing it and freak out, as other elves don't do it very much or none at all. He's one of the rare ones that do it a lot. And robbie finds out and tells him it's fine. (This is also one of my headcanons)

((this is so sweet and pure thank you for my life))

Sportacus had his head in Robbie’s lap as per his request; the villain said he needed something to do with his hands and that Sport’s hair was very soft to the touch. Maybe this excuse had been honest the first several times, but it was now stretched thin and both of them knew it.

Having his hair stroked so delicately was soothing beyond measure, and he hadn’t relaxed this readily and intensely around anybody in quite some time. Robbie was responsive too, adjusting his position or giggling a little when Sportacus would reach up in his general direction to drag his palm along his jawline. Eventually, though, he was too far gone into his state of bliss to do that anymore.

Because he was so lost in it, it hadn’t even come to his attention that his chest was producing a low, rumbling type of sound. When he eventually did realize it, Sportacus forced a hasty cough out of his throat, and it burned, but it did stop the unwelcome noise.

It couldn’t stop the embarrassment that followed,on the other hand. Looking at Robbie briefly told him that he was just as surprised as he was, and since Sportacus was feeling so humiliated, he misconstrued his expression as one of disgust or annoyance.

“Sorry,” he mumbled, hefting himself up so that he and Robbie were no longer touching. Maybe it was a silly thing to be upset over, but in that moment, Sportacus only felt silly for letting his guard down like he did.

“What was that?” Robbie still had his hands in the air as if Sportacus had never pulled away. Or, he could have been waiting for him to come back? Whatever the kind gesture, it was lost on Sportacus.

“It’s just something I do sometimes,” and there was no mistaking the shame in his voice. He wanted to leave, yet at the worst possible time, his body finally decided to seize up, cease all movement. Sportacus felt his face grow hot, and if he wasn’t about to cry, he’d be incredibly surprised.

Robbie seemed to be considering this, overbite apparent as his teeth dug into his lower lip. After some time, he perked up again, having delightedly made a connection.

“Like a cat,” he said thoughtfully, now smiling at his own conclusion drawn.

Sportacus could do nothing else but stare in gentle wonder at the man who was most certainly not reacting the way he was afraid he would. And, now that he thought about it, why would he?

“Like a cat.” Robbie’s words were repeated back to him, because Sportacus was too stunned to say much else. “But cats don’t get so embarrassed.”

“Don’t be, it fits you; it’s good.” There was a deliberate effort to piece those two thoughts together, to emphasize their cohesiveness. “Come back, though. I wasn’t finished.”

Sportacus’ grin was earnest and relieved as he returned to his previous spot, the only difference now being that he wrapped his arms around Robbie’s, pressing his face against his stomach in wordless appreciation.

Within moments he was purring away, louder and happier than ever before.

anonymous asked:

Okay but imagine Dark asking Host what happening to his eyes, I dont by the whole Dark Host connected theory tbh not enough substance for me to bite down into, and Host goes "I cut them out" and Dark is like "you fucking w h a t", like obviously Dark is very powerful but I hc him as having a weak body, body not powers, like he has a low pain threshold and gets out of breath easy and he forgets to eat and sleep, a lot, and he has no immune system and gets light induced headaches really easy 1/?

so when ever someone tells him they broke bone, for fucking cut there yes out in p u r p o u s e, hes mildly terrified bc damn humans you scary af like he can warp reality but his mood is ruined for the rest week over a paper cut, also I hc that Dark doesnt really verbally express emotions as much as he act them out, the whole “Shell breaking” stuff and the glitches but I can explain more if you want 2/2

What’s awesome about having like zero canon about all the egos is that each headcanon is as canon as the next. Plenty of room for lots of interpretations of characters! 

While I tend to imagine Dark as having as much of a ‘human’ body as any of the other egos so that he can properly get what’s coming to him for being a jerk and have it happen slowly and with deliberate effort on another party’s part, him having a low pain threshold is hilarious to imagine for the ‘light and fluffy hcs all around’ AU. 

I mean, that’s what happens when you’re some sort of eldritch beast who had to make a thin copy of a human body that’s so weak you can’t even add proper colors. Paper cut? His shell cracks in five directions at once. Eyelash in the eye? He blinks excessively to the point of tears and it still won’t get out get it out oh my gosh it’s going to poke a hole in my eyelid. Wilford lightly punches him on the shoulder? He just inhales deeply, presses his lips tightly together, and makes a long squealing noise at a higher pitch than the one that usually follows in his wake.

Phantom’s Tour

Day 8, prompt “sightseeing”. Enjoy!


„And on the right you can see Nasty Burger, place where you can get a tasty burger with highly explosive special sauce! There’s also a high chance to see a ghost attack – it’s the most haunted place, second only to the school!”

Teenagers already being at the Nasty Burger were met with incredible sight of their local town hero/menace Danny Phantom, floating a feet above the ground, with a bright green “TOUR” sign in his hand. Around him gathered group of people – obviously tourists. They had cameras at the ready and T-shirts with Phantom’s face on them.

“If you don’t die from the cholesterol, I’m pretty sure one of the ghosts will make the job! Come on, now, let’s move to the school, and then we’ll see the highlight of our tour: FentonWorks!”

Phantom started floating down the road, leading the tourists and curious eyes of citizens. They’ve got a weird feeling it wouldn’t be the last time they saw it.

It was summer, the school was mostly empty. That’s why Phantom had no troubles with phasing through the door and making them open.

The group walked briskly after him, taking dozens of pictures and commenting on every little piece of decoration.

“This locker on the right, this destroyed one, it’s 724! It’s haunted by Sydney Pointdexter, boy who committed suicide because of bulling! Watch out here – if he spots you picking up on someone, he will make your life a living hell!”

Most people just took a photo of the locker and went past by; but some made deliberate effort not to be close to one of the scrawny kids. Maybe he just got a pass for few days.

“Here on the left is cafeteria – a place where you can die either from food poisoning or angry ghost of a Lunch Lady! She hates any changes to the menu – take the meat out and you have an attack guaranteed!”

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