i was bored to tears

I… I’d do anything for you, Diana……

God, this was SO fun to make even if it took like 5 days ahaha… You can open it in a new tab to see the details.

Heart on the Line (part 1)


You and Bucky had your differences in college, but now you need a place to stay and he needs a roommate, and in order to make ends meet, you two start a phone sex line together.  

“For a Good Time, Call…” AU

author: sugardaddytonystark (formerly buckysbackpackbuckle)
pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader
word count: 1516
warnings: smutty smut smut and dirty talk (future chapters)

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Yoriko is such a pure and kind person T_T
When her stomach growls she immediately thinks of Bujin and if he’s been eating well.
She doesn’t even remotely have any negative feelings about Touka being a ghoul. She doesn’t mind at all that she’s a ghoul and never told her. Rather, she blames herself for not having noticed and for putting Touka through so much trouble by making her eat human food and she’s cherishing the fact that Touka still bore is all with a grin.
I’m so moved I teared up.

so I started reading MTMTE last week and hOOOOLY HECK IT’S BEEN QUITE THE RIDE!!!

I’m having a great time but I’m also Not™ and idek man I just gotta draw something cute and happy to try to help ease my pAIN AND HEARTACHE

Let’s face it, we bookworms tend to put a lot of pressure on ourselves, when it comes to our reading, because we’re weird like that, but in a good way. And, the truth is that reading should always be fun. Guilt free. ALL THE FUN SO MUCH OF THE FUN BECAUSE WORDS ON PAGES *insert screech* You know what I’m talking about. So I thought that compiling a list of the reasons that bookworms feel guilty and why they should just stop would be a great idea

  1. Not reaching our Goodreads challenge/lowering our goal for the year

In the past few years, the Goodreads challenge has become a staple of measuring achievement when it comes to reading. It has become insanely popular and it’s honestly such a good tool to keep track of everything you’re reading. But it also adds an immense amount of pressure. I’ve been there. When December rolls around and you see that you’re to the Goodreads challenge what Pluto is to being a planet in the Solar System (a.k.a. not even close; also VIVA LA PLUTO because Pluto deserved better smh), the panic sets in. You’re left with two options: lowering your goal or not finishing the challenge. Both make you feel like crap. But honestly, life makes us feel like crap far too many times, thank you very much, so let’s not let reading add to the ever growing pile of crap, am I right?

There’s no reason to feel guilty. If you read one book that year, you’re still a bookworm and it’s still a HUGE achievement. It doesn’t matter if you didn’t reach your challenge. It’s just a stupid tracking tool on the internet, it’s not something to measure your worth as a reader or as a person. You’re still awesome, even if you read just a page. Even one page counts. We’re busy, school and work get in the way 99% of the times. Unexpected life events occur. Shit happens. It’s normal and it’s expected, because life is fun and all that jazz.

Also, may I suggest a great idea: set your goal to one book for the year. Boom! Pressure off. You’ll still be able to see what books you read, how many pages and all that jazz, with the bonus that you don’t feel like hyperventilating every time you open your Goodreads account

  2. Not finishing books (the dreaded DNF)

Let me tell you something right off the bat: life is too short to waste on books that you’re not enjoying. Yes, I know, if you’re like me, you die a little on the inside every time you are at that point where you want to scream at the book you’re reading: BUT WHY ARE YOU NOT GOOD WHY IS THIS HAPPENING TO ME WHO DID I OFFEND IN A PREVIOUS LIFE FML FML. It’s a reality. But let’s face it: you’re not going to enjoy every single book you pick up. It’s just not written in the stars. Which is why it’s perfectly acceptable to just…stop reading it. Put it down. Hug a kitten. Contemplate the universe. Leave it be. Maybe pick it up at a later time, maybe not. But don’t feel guilty. You didn’t disappoint the book, yourself, the book gods or literature as a whole. It just wasn’t meant to be and you should never force yourself to read a book you’re not enjoying. In my case, every time I force myself to keep going with a book I’m not enjoying, I tent to end up in The-Thing-That-Should-Not-Be-Named a.k.a. the Book Slump™. Just…no.

  3. Not reading classics

80% of the classics I’ve read have bored me to tears. I mean. I want me some dragons, magic and lost princesses. There are no such things in most classics (a huge oversight on the part of the writers, but I’m not pointing fingers). I’ve stumbled upon some that I really enjoyed, but too few to really make me actively pursue reading classics. The trouble is that a lot of people cringe so badly when you tell them that you don’t read classics.

“So yeah, I don’t really read or like classics”
“Um, I just..don’t really enjoy them/relate to the stories/want to live while I’m reading them”

Whenever people react like this, it puts me off reading classics even more, because I hate judgy people. But I digress. My point is, the amount of classics that you read or don’t read doesn’t indicate how “good” of a reader you are (fyi, there are no good or bad readers imo). It’s just indicative of the genres you enjoy reading. That is all. People who read classics aren’t THE BEST BOOKWORMS™. They’re just people. Like you.

  4. Rereading books

I will shout this from the rooftops: I LOVE REREADING BOOKS. It’s something so refreshing and comfortable to go back to a book universe you fell in love with. To revisit favourite characters and go on adventures with them again. I reread at least a few books every year. Last year, I actively tried to reread at least one book each month. It was so much fun!

Rereading books can get you out of The Slump™. Rereading books is an excellent alternative for when you can’t afford to buy new books because stupid life costs money booooo. Rereading can be so insightful, because you notice so many things you missed on your first (or second, or third or…you get my drift) read. Rereading can be a whole new experience years after reading that book for the first time. Rereading a certain book can be the best for you at a certain time, because everything is familiar and safe. Rereading is absolutely no reason to feel guilty – people usually say they’re wasting time when they’re rereading (um, no), missing out on new releases (they’ll still be there a week later when you finish rereading your favourite book thank you very much), they fear not liking it as much the second time around (fine, I’ll give you this, it’s a possibility, BUT I ACCEPT THE CHALLENGE). Long story short: reread more books 2k17.

  5. Neglecting books because life

We’re bookworms, yes. But we’re also People Who Need To Live and Function in Society. What does this mean? That we sometimes don’t have that much time to read (I know, it’s just so rude). Days may pass when we don’t read at all. Weeks. Sometimes months. Years? (all my college years were spent reading almost academic books exclusively; it was a dark time in my life). But that’s okay. There’s no reason to feel guilty for doing our best to live out lives. Doing that sometimes implies giving up certain things, because we simply don’t have the time or energy to do them. That doesn’t make us bad people or bad readers. Your books will still be waiting for you when you have the time to devote them your full attention. Books don’t judge.

Surprisingly or not, this is just part one. I have many feelings about this particular topic, because I really really want people to read books guilt free. And live the bookworm life to the fullest

I’d love to hear your thoughts on these points. And if there was ever a time you felt guilty for something book related

Happy reading, bookish people <3


Klance (theory/headcanon?)

There’s probably plenty of people who have figured this out already but I’ve never seen any content referring to it and I’m kinda bored rn so here I am.

Okay so everyone knows the notorious Bonding Moment™ in S1E5 where Keith holds Lance’s hand and helps him sit up. There’s the whole “We are a good team” line and everything.

Now skip to the next episode when Keith says “We had a bonding moment! I cradled you in my arms!”, which was pretty funny. But I couldn’t help but notice that the on-screen Bonding Moment™ didn’t involve any actual cradling like Keith claimed. Of course, I thought, there must have been more to that moment than is shown on screen. 

Now consider, who carried lance to the infirmary? Hunk and Coran were coming back with the crystal; Pidge is smol (and was helping Shiro); Shiro was conscious, but in no state to carry anyone; and Allura probably had her hands full trying to get the ship ready and wouldn’t interfere if Lance was already being assisted.

So that means Keith princess-carried carried Lance to the infirmary #confirmed  spread the word @idhrentelcontar

If anyone is curious to know what being in a youth choir is like once we were waiting in a green room before a performance and I was really bored so I started tearing my plastic cup into shreds (you know how it is) and when I was done I gifted the cup shreds to this other kid. He took them and spelled out “YOU WILL DIE” on the table. I took them back and spelled out “WE ALL DIE” and we kept going back and forth for a bit. A few of the other kids were starting to notice and they thought it was kind of funny. After a couple rounds, my friend came up to me and whispered in my ear the best idea I had ever heard. We took the shreds and together, we spelled out “SEND NUDES.” So, everyone at the table was giggling and gathering around. We have some younger aged kids so I decided to destroy the message before I poisoned their minds. Suddenly everyone was mad at me because they hadn’t been able to get a picture of the message. Except for one girl, who said she could send it to everybody. And she did. In the choir group chat. Now, we had a couple different choir group chats with varying members and all created for different purposes. There was one for all of the choir kids with phones. There was one for just the high schoolers. There was one for just the high schoolers who texted a lot about weird shit. And there was one chat that our choir director used to send announcements about rehearsals and performances. So I was looking through the recipients list of this particular chat, and I saw a name that made my stomach drop. “Guys…” I said quietly, horror evident in my voice. Everyone was looking at me. “Wrong chat.”

And that’s the story of how we asked our choir director to send nudes.

imagine an au where aaron is a slightly reluctant, very grumpy assassin who works for his uncle taking out real pieces of work. and then he gets assigned robert, the biggest dickhead going. and aaron always works a certain way - gets to know the mark, finds out their schedule, targets them when there’s no witnesses. only… when aaron gets to know robert he starts to wonder if this guy really is as bad as he first seemed. because apart from the bravado and the foot-in-mouth complex, robert actually seems… good. still a colossal pain in the backside but… he’s soft as well and his smile is warm as sunshine and aaron… doesn’t get involved like this, he makes a point of not letting emotions get in the way of his job, but he’s not sure he can stop himself this time. in fact, it might be too late already…

Here’s a fic based on the first part of this post w/ College AU klance, Lance sick and stranded at the airport, and Keith knowing what caretaking is.

For Lance, bad news comes in the form of a woman’s voice, calmly notifying the lobby full of passengers that their flight to Michigan has been delayed for five hours due to severe weather conditions. His stomach drops. Uncomfortable dread washes over him. He can’t take another five hours in the airport, he just can’t.

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Self Conclusion (Chapter Three)

Self Conclusion (Chapter One)

Self Conclusion (Chapter Two)

“Jughead, please!” Betty pleaded, racing down the stairs after him.

He was struggling to pull on his flannel over the shirt he had borrowed from Betty. “Fuck you! To think, I was going to open up to you! I should’ve known,” Jughead spat as he reached the bottom of the staircase. He tucked his pants and t-shirt under his arm.

“Jughead, I know how it sounded. I swear, I wasn’t talking about you,” Betty’s chin quivered.

“I was stupid enough to believe you once,” Jughead said quietly. He slipped on his shoes quickly.“See ya,” He said, opening the front door.

“Jughead,” Betty begged. Tears threatened to spill over. “We were talking about Archie, I swear. I promise!” Her voice cracked. “Please don’t go.”

Jughead stopped in his tracks, letting the door close towards him as he hesitated in the doorway.

“I wouldn’t talk about you that way,” Betty said quietly. “This isn’t a joke to me.”

Jughead turned slowly towards her. “Why would you say Archie’s pathetic?”

Betty chewed her lip. “He tried to ask out all three Pussycat’s one after another after Veronica turned him down. He tried to make it out like she was the one who was doing - well,” Betty sighed. “Anyway, that’s the gist of it. I’m sorry you overheard that. Please come upstairs, we can talk some more.”

Jughead wordlessly closed the door and slipped off his shoes, following Betty up the stairs.

Betty sat on her bed as Jughead lingered in the doorway.

“Do you… want to keep asking questions? Since we didn’t finish?”

Jughead laughed coldly. “Alright, sure, blondie. Tell me, why do you want to fix me so badly?” Clearly, his walls were back up.

“I don’t want to fix you, Jughead, you’re not broken. I just don’t want you to kill yourself.”

“Well, you’ve got forty-five and a half hours to change my mind. Tick-tock.” He stepped out of the doorway and crossed his legs, plopping himself on the floor.

“My question?”

Jughead raised an eyebrow.

“Why did you stop talking to me?”

“What are you talking about?” Jughead asked, his eyebrows knitting together in confusion.

“In seventh grade. You just stopped talking to me and Kevin and Midge and you barely talked to Archie. Your Dad lost the house and you moved to the trailer park and Archie had to force you to talk to him. And when we tried to talk to you, you just - you refused.”

“I didn’t refuse, I-”

“You pushed us all away, Jughead!”

“I was twelve years old and my family was falling apart and we lost our house and moved into a trailer park. Plus, I was trying to help take care of Jellybean - it was all I could do to get up and go to school and do my homework, I - I couldn’t deal with trying to explain everything to my friends.” Jughead said angrily.

Betty nodded slowly.  "Okay,“ She murmured.

“So why does the perfect girl next door want to kill herself?”

Betty blanched at his question.

“Well? You said no question off limits, right?”

“I’m not perfect. Don’t call me perfect.” Betty curled her fingers towards her palms, making tight fists.

“That’s not an answer,” Jughead murmured, staring up at the ceiling.

“My sister’s pregnant, in high school, and the father of that baby has been murdered. My dad hardly ever comes home at night anymore. I confessed my feelings to someone who didn’t feel the same way, and while that is all well and good, he is now trying to date my other best friend. I feel like I’m trying to hold my family together. Half the people I know think of me as perfect so I can’t do anything wrong.”

 Betty took a deep breath. “And the other half bully me - Cheryl Blossom told me I was too fat to join cheer-leading last year, Reggie Mantle asked if I was going to join the ranks of my sister and get pregnant in high school, random people I don’t even know call our family crazy. There is so much shit going on in my head I can’t take it. I don’t even know when the last time is that I had a good day. So, no reason to stay is a good reason to go, right?”

“Won’t you miss milkshakes and french fries and sunrises?” Jughead asked sarcastically, using Betty’s reasoning against her.

“Yeah,” Betty said, her voice thick with emotion. She took another deep breath, trying to suppress the feeling that she was about to cry. “You know, for me, it’s more like this overwhelming feeling like I’m at a party where I don’t know anybody, and I’m exhausted and bored and all I want to do is go home.” A tear slipped down Betty’s face.

She flicked it away. “Anyway. My turn - what’s one thing you’ve never told anyone?”

“I’m homeless,” Jughead murmured.

“What?” Betty asked incredulously.

“Well, I was homeless. My mom left with Jellybean a year or so ago and my dad started drinking more heavily and lost his job with Fred, and eventually I got tired of his shit. So I slept at the Drive-In. But, as you know,”  Jughead rolled his eyes. “The Drive-In got shut down. So I slept at school for a bit. A few weeks ago I moved back in with my dad, I didn’t have any other choice. I’ve been there since he got arrested, but who knows how long I have til they realize I’m alone…”

“I-I’m really sorry Jughead.”

He shrugged.

“Your turn,” Betty prompted quietly.

“Same question,” Jughead murmured, finally tearing his eyes away from the ceiling to look at her.

Betty didn’t say a word, just uncurled her fists and showed Jughead what she had done.

Jughead slowly reached towards her upturned palms. He dropped his hands without touching her.

“I can relate.”

“Yeah?” Betty said quietly.

Jughead rolled his long flannel sleeve up towards his elbow. An angry looking red mark was on his forearm. Another one, less fresh but just as painful-looking marked his wrist. “When my dad gets drunk, he gets angry. He takes it out on me a lot.”

Betty touched them gently. “Jughead,” Betty breathed.

Jughead pulled his arm away.

“I’m sorry,” She murmured.

Jughead shook his head. “’S okay. There’s lots more where they came from,” He chuckled humorlessly. He stood up and pulled the t-shirt up so she could see the burns on his stomach and chest. Some were half-moon shapes, some were full circles, some big and some small.

“What are they from?”

“Cigarettes and cigars. The half circles are from when he threw them and they didn’t quite make their mark.” He let the shirt fall back in place.

“Okay,” Betty said, standing up. “Why don’t we stop the questions for a while? I could make a late dinner? Or order a pizza.”

“Pizza sounds good.”

“What do you like on your pizza?”

“Anything except pineapple.”

“I thought you ate anything?” Betty cocked an eyebrow.

“I’d eat it, sure, but that doesn’t mean I like it.” Jughead smirked.

“So what would you like on the pizza?”

“Pepperoni, green olives, onions and mushrooms is my favorite, but most people don’t like ol-”

“No mushrooms and I’m sold.” Betty smiled.

“Deal,” Jughead murmured.

Jughead took the last bite of his crust and rubbed his stomach. “That was amazing. What now?”

“I have an idea,” Betty smiled. “We both pick one of our favorite movies that we don’t think the other has ever seen. What do you think?”

Jughead nodded. “Okay. Let me think.” He crossed his legs. “Have you ever seen Murder by Death?”

Betty smirked. “No, I’ve never even heard of it.”

“That’s my pick.”

“Have you ever seen An Affair to Remember?”

Jughead smiled. “I have, I love that movie.”

“You do not,” Betty laughed.

“I do! I have a soft spot for old romantic movies.”

“Okay, what about The Notebook?”

“Oh, no, no, I said old romantic movies. Not this new wave of  Nicholas Sparks rom-com bullshit.”

“So, you’ve never seen it?”


“Then that’s my pick.”

Jughead groaned.

The two of them were on Betty’s bed, the only light in the room the glow from the TV. The end credits rolling for Murder by Death.

“What did you think?” Jughead asked, straightening his legs, stretching.

“It was really, really good actually. I love Alec Guinness. I didn’t really understand the end, though.” Betty admitted.

Jughead explained it, his whole face beaming.

“I’ll have to watch it again,” Betty laughed.

“We could watch it instead of The Notebook,” Jughead laughed, cocking his eyebrow.

“No way,” Betty smiled, scooting off the bed to put her well-used DVD into the machine.

By the time Allie and Noah were lying together in the street, Jughead was hooked. There was a smile playing on his lips.

Betty leaned back against her pillow, next to Jughead. Her eyelids felt heavy.

Jughead felt the warmth of her body against him, but couldn’t tear his eyes away from the screen - as much as he was going to hate to admit it, he was really into the movie - plus, her bed was small, not much space for her to move without touching him.

As the end credits rolled, Jughead had to bite his lip to keep the tears from slipping out.

“Wow, okay, I was wrong. That was good.” Jughead stared at the screen in front of him. “What, no ‘I told you so’?” Jughead looked down at the tiny body next to him.

Betty was fast asleep, her head resting against his shoulder, even breaths making her shoulders rise and fall. She had a fistful of his shirt.

“Oh,” Jughead breathed. He  couldn’t help but notice how beautiful she looked.

He carefully, slowly, reached for the remote for the TV and turned it off, leaving them in complete darkness. He rested his head gently  against hers, not wanting to wake her.

His heart was hammering in his chest, making it impossible for him to fall asleep. After a moment, he felt her stir, her hand reaching out against his abdomen to pull him closer to her. Her fingers lingered on his side as her breathing returned to the rhythmic pace it had been a moment ago.

Jughead felt all the feelings he had tried to pacify for years racing back up to the surface.

One Week [Pt. 2]

Originally posted by porkdo-bi

Part 2 of 2

Part 1

“Did you miss me too?” you asked, pressing up on your toes to land a small peck on the corner of his lips.

He was speechless, utterly at a loss for words as his eyes devoured your skin; wanting, no needing to touch you.

Luckily for him, you moved, leaving him frozen as you climbed onto his bed.

“Aren’t you coming?”.

Chanyeol shook his head, taking a small step back only to accidentally bump into the door behind him.

“I told you I’ve been sick, baby, I don’t want to give it to you”.

You inhale, fighting the anger that builds again. You know he’s lying but you can’t come out and accuse him of it, that would defeat the whole purpose of your game.

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My Company

// Let’s hope I get out all of my weird in this.

SOO this is a Jerome x reader thingy (shocker I know because I totally never write these ahaha)

Update Thing: So, after writing this, I honestly don’t know what happened with it, but I sorta just kept writing and it may not be super good but oh well I had a lot of fun writing it.

Title: My Company

Need to know: Y/n is a part of the Maniax.

Warnings: Fluff perhaps maybe??

Rating: Fluffy Fluff. //



Y/n sits on the couch idly flipping through the movies that Theo owned. It was mostly older movies, none that she’d really heard of, and none that interested her. She sighs loudly, and tosses the bag to the floor. Y/n folds her arms cross her chest and moves her head side to side, looking at the ground. All of a sudden, she hears an excited laugh come from the other room.


“You’re going to hurt yourself, idiot. Stop. Hey, stop! You’re going to land on her!” That peaks y/n’s interest, and she turns her head to look at what’s going on, just in time to see Jerome running towards the couch like a maniac. At the last minute, just as he launches himself forward, y/n panics, throwing herself from the couch. Jerome lands next to her, sprawling out on the ground.

“Hey there y/n.” He says, breathing heavily next to her.

“J-Jerome, why did you…?”

“You looked lonely over here,” Jerome pouts, rolling on his side to look at her. He pushes a strand of her h/c out of her face, and smiles brightly. She rolls her eyes, and stands up, beginning to walk back over to the couch. Jerome rolls towards her rapidly, knocking into her legs and causing her to crash to the ground. He rolls on top of y/n propping himself above her. “Where ya going doll?” He asks. Y/n stares up at him with wide eyes, letting out a small squeal. “What?” He asks, winking at her. “Cat got your tongue?”

Y/n rolls her eyes and huffs. “Get up, Jerome.”


“Get up.”


“Jerome, I said get up.”


“Because I want you to.” She says, glaring at him.


“B-bec-because I said so!”


“Why are you ju-”

“W…h…y?” Jerome says, a childish smile on his face.

“You can’t just kee-”

“W-h-y?” He spells out the word, wiggling his eyebrows at her.

“Jesus Jerome, what are you even doing?”


“Don’t you-”

“Weeellll, like I said before, you looked lonely.” He says, frowning slightly. “So I thought I’d keep you company.”

“Who says I wanted you to?” Y/n asks angrily, her face turning bright red as he leans her face down towards hers.

“Just admit that you enjoy having me around,” he says, meeting her gaze full on.

“I-I…well, it’s definitely never boring when you’re around,” she mumbles, tearing her eyes from his stare. He lets out a giddy laugh, and kisses her quickly, jumping up. Her eyes widen as she stands up, throwing her arms to the side.


“Bet’cha can’t catch me!” He calls out, launching himself over the couch again into a perfect roll, popping back up at the end and bolting through the kitchen.

“Oh, you’re so dead!” She shouts, following after him. Y/n goes around the couch. When she enters the doorway, she’s confused as Jerome is nowhere to be in sight. Something leaps out at her from the side, knocking her to the ground. “JESUS!”

“No, it’s just me. Jerome.” Barbara and Tabitha look over, their interest slightly peaked. Jerome kisses y/n again quickly, and springs back up to his feet, bolting back out into the living room.

“Jerome, I swear-” She scampers to her feet quickly and bolts back out into the living room. “I’m going to kill you!”

“Awe, look at that Babs, their flirting again.” Tabitha’s comment stops both of them in their tracks, and y/n turns around to face them slowly. She shakes her head at the same time Jerome jumps up next to her, slinging his arm around her.

“You bet’cha.”

“We aren’t!” She says, turning to him quickly.

“Oh, come on doll. I think it’s obvious what we’re doing.”


“At least it’s obvious what I’m doing.” Jerome mutters, pulling her too him. “I thought you knew…” He whispers, stroking her cheek.

“Maybe you did, but I never did.” Y/n says defensively.

“Oh, cut the crap y/n. We all know you like Jerome. It’s obvious, so quit acting like it’s not and just get together already.” Barbara calls out, tilting her head and raising her eyebrows. Jerome turns to y/n, and smiling, winking at her.

“I knew you liked my company.”

Pepperony Week Day Five: Post-Civil War

Pepper had a list hidden away in a secret folder on her computer.  The title was a series of random letters and numbers achieved by closing her eyes and hitting eleven random keys.  Any hacker or burglar would write it off as junk and move on, or so she hoped.  Every couple of days she’d go into the folder and open the single file inside.

Reasons Why I Should Permanently Break Up With Tony

1: He’s completely unreliable.  He can’t shake bad habits and he can’t keep promises.

2: He’s full of himself.  Even when he’s saving people there’s this stink of arrogance like he thinks he’s owed something for it.

3: He hogs the bedsheets at night.

4: His idea of date night is making a Pepper sized suit and racing around the world.

5: David, the deputy director of R&D, is clearly interested in me and is a really sweet guy I’d be lucky to have.

6: He’s never going to stop being Ironman, which means he’s never going to stop risking his life, which means I’ll always have to fear for his life when he’s on missions.  

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