queue on your left

678. All of the Weasleys have very unique sleeping habits. Arthur talks in his sleep and Molly is a snorer but a light sleeper. Bill needs approximately 258932793357 pillows (and Fleur) to get comfortable, Charlie sleeps with his mouth open which leads to VERY loud snoring. Percy used to sleepwalk when he was younger. Fred tosses and turns around a lot- he often ends up in really strange positions, plus, he can sleep EVERYWHERE and is a morning person. George is a snorer, a "sleep-cuddler" and he needs a lot of coffee to be able to face a morning. Ron's a heavy sleeper. His snoring makes a chainsaw sound that is some how lovely and quiet. Also, he needs to chat to someone before going to sleep. Ginny drools a lot, which embarrasses her to no end.

See, nothing about us is gentle.

It’s Monday, and we crash-land into each other’s life that hazardous way teenagers do, full of too much hope and too little taste of the world. You ask me, here in this chemical-and-gunpowder-and-booze shoebox bedroom, if I am terrified of change. I drown my answer in the intoxication of your being.

Tuesday: you drag me by the hand, and we charge into uncharted wasteland, running without looking, running with the grand newness of things. The beast hums while hovering above the Earth, and as I lie awake in its belly matching my breath with your own, I keep thinking about the inevitable stumble and fall.

Wednesday: you fall. Then the world we know falls. Then we realize the futility of our effort in a bout of midweek blues. While we’re crawling out of the rubble, your blood-stained hand latching on to mine, you ask me again if I am terrified of change. I am. Because I fall, too. For you.

Except, nothing about us is gentle.

I do not simply fall for you. I follow you into war. I fight and fumble. I bleed and do it all over again for you. I cut myself raw for you. And here at the bottom of the ocean, I would die for you…

…Thursday: you’re just flesh and a beating heart and bright brown eyes, but when you leave, you split atoms and leave a crater in my chest. Love is destructive, the week is long, and I am tired, so forgive me if I seem spiteful. Forgive me if I don’t understand the ache between your vertebrae. I didn’t know you were trying to shoulder the world. Forgive me forgive me forgive me.

Friday morning and life trudges forward, all the cogs grinding and chains rattling. You wipe the blood off your brows and tell me, “maybe there is.” Maybe there is air in drowning. Maybe there is renewed strength in fractured bones. Maybe there is in me the privilege to one day wake up next to you. I’ll build my dreams on that “maybe.”

But then again, nothing about us is gentle.

Please come back. You can be my Friday night bad decisions and drunken kisses that end in breathless laughter. Saturday I’ll make you burned toast and we’ll dance down the hallway just to make everyone roll their eyes. I know I promised dinner but Sunday we can go to brunch instead. I’ll take you to a museum so you can look at art and I can look at you.

There is a weekend ahead and a whole life waiting, so please come back. I know nothing about us is gentle, but love itself can be.

—  an undelivered note from an engineer to a biochemist (vi.)
Normal Life? [REQUEST]

I’ve not posted in a while because of work and things. But I hopefully will have a couple of days where I can write non-stop so fingers crossed!

I hope you like this little bit of Jongdae love :D

Jade xo

“At this rate, you’re going to beat me home,” you commented impatiently as you leaned to the left to look at the long queue you were stuck in at the supermarket. Already it felt like you had been in the supermarket for at least an hour. Why had everyone chosen that exact moment to go shopping? Didn’t they know you were racing Jongdae home?

Through the phone, you heard Jongdae laughed and instantly you knew he was smirking at your frustration. “Baby, we haven’t even come off the motorway yet. You have loads of time so quit stressing,” he told you calmly.

You tried to stop tapping your foot as you shuffled the basket around on your arm. It was starting to get heavy with all the fruit you had packed in it. “I just wanted to have everything ready for when you got home,” you complained quietly in your phone. “To celebrate your first day of musical rehearsals.”

Recently Jongdae and you had moved into a little house together. It seemed like it was the right time – you’d been together for five years. It had only been a week since moving in and you hadn’t even unpacked all of your boxes yet. One of the main things that attracted you to the house was the little rooftop garden that came with it. Ever since your first tour of the house, you had imagined yourself having a little picnic with Jongdae in your little garden – your little piece of paradise.

“Baby, take a deep breath and calm down,” your boyfriend told you softly as you shuffled along the queue. There were only two people left and then it would be your turn, which only started up the tapping of your foot again. “It doesn’t matter whose home first. I’ll just see you on the rooftop!”

You hung up and slipped your phone into your bag just as the queue moved up. After talking to Jongdae, time seemed to move faster and before you knew it, it was your turn. The lady helped you put everything into paper bags and smiled sweetly as you heaved the bags under your arms and exited the supermarket, only to be bombarded with about twenty frantic EXO fans and fall to the floor.

“Honey, I’m home,” Jongdae shouted as soon as he opened the door. He waited for your answer, kicking his shoes off and dropping his bag on the floor wearily. Usually you’d call out or poke your head round the corner, but the house was silent. Shrugging his shoulders, he concluded you must already be on the rooftop. “Maybe we drove too fast!” he muttered to himself as he walked through the house, collecting things for your picnic on the roof.

With blankets and cushions in his arms, he headed up to the rooftop, pausing when he heard the lock beep like the code was being entered. “Babe, is that you?” Jongdae called out, pausing halfway up the stairs. He heard the front door slam shut. “Babe?” Another door quickly slammed, the boom echoing throughout the house followed by muffled noise.

Leaving the blankets and cushions at the bottom of the stairs, Jongdae searched his house quickly trying to find you. Outside the bathroom, he spotted the shopping you had obviously just bought. Instantly he was worried, running to the bathroom door and trying to open it. “Babe? Are you in there? Are you ok?”

“Just give me a minute,” you shouted back, although there was something wrong with your voice.

Trying the door, he frowned at the lock and pressed his ear to the door. “Babe, you’re worrying me. Can you just open the door?” He listened hard, waiting for your reply or the sound of the lock turning … and heard neither. Just some hitched loud breaths and some sniffles. It suddenly clicked on Jongdae’s head and he was banging his fist on the door. “Babe, you have to let me. Why are you crying?”

The lock clicked and Jongdae flung the door open, falling to his knees when he saw you slumped on the floor with cuts and bruises on your arms and legs, crying into your hands. “What happened?” he exclaimed, scooting closer and pulling you into his lap, pushing the hair out of your face. “Why are you bleeding?”

You tucked your head under his chin, still crying into your hands, and sniffed loudly. “There were fans outside the store. They know we live in the neighbourhood,” you said quietly, sniffing and stuttering through the words. “At first it was a few. I signed some pieces of papers and took some photos. But then at the end of the road, there were more fans. They all crowded around me and I fell, but they still crowded around, some of them standing on me.”

“Oh baby,” Jongdae sighed, squeezing you closer in his arms. It was his fault. This wouldn’t have happened if you hadn’t been dating him, if you hadn’t been thrown in the public eye by moving in with him. Never had he felt so guilty, knowing that the cuts on your legs and arms were his fault. He told you he was sorry but it didn’t seem enough.

Your hot breath tickled the bottom of Jongdae’s neck and sent little shivers down his spine like your touch always did. “It’s ok babe. I managed to sneak out the back of a restaurant and make it how, but I took the long way so they wouldn’t find out where we lived,” you explained, slowly calming down until you had stopped crying.

He leaned back to look at your face and saw you hiding it behind your hands still. Pulling them away, he gasped at the scraps across the palms of your hands that were already crusty with dried blood. “We need to clean these before they get infected,” he muttered, reaching the first aid kit behind the sink and popping it open.

The both of you were silent while he cleaned your hands, arms and legs, Jongdae not knowing what to say to make this better and you clearly holding back the pain judging by the way you bit down on your bottom lip, turning it white with lack of blood. He cleaned out the little cuts, plastering up the ones big enough to need plasters, glad to be helping you even though he was the reason you had the cuts.

“You should stop blaming yourself,” you said, breaking the silence as Jongdae plastered the biggest cut over your knee. He looked up from your leg with wide and confused eyes. “I can tell that you’re blaming all this on yourself, aren’t you?”

He quickly put the last plaster on and then sighed, fully looking at you. “All of this is my fault. You should have chosen to date someone who could give you a normal life, not one that continues to put you in harm’s way,” he explained, picking up your hands in his and trying to ignore how the scraps felt as he ran his fingers along your palms.

“Even if I had a normal life, it would be a horrible one too,” you told him, leaning closer to his face. “I want to be with you and if that means you have to plaster me up a few times because I have a terrible sense of balance, then I think that’s a pretty good deal,” you said, closing the distance between you two for a little kiss. “So can we just have our picnic and forget this all happened?”

Jongdae smoothed your hair down and cupped your face, thinking about how he could still be surprised by how beautiful you were … on the outside and inside. Never could he imagine being with anyone else because you were the only one who could put up with so much and still be concerned for him more. He was completely in love you and made a silent promise to always keep you safe, no matter the cost.

“That depends,” he said, finding it hard to stop the playful smirk from pulling the corners of his lips up. “Did you remember to buy the strawberries?”


Greetings, Ghostfacers

Originally posted by weeklyspn

Pairing: Dean x Reader, Sam
Word count: 828
A/N: I used 1x17 as a base for this :3

Part 3 of Welcome to the Family

You were sitting in the middle of the back seat, your bare feet resting on the back of the seat in front of you. Sam was passed out in the front, head facing Dean. Smirking, you put your feet down and grabbed the bag next to you. You quietly ripped open the bag that had a plastic spoon in it and leaned forward.

Dean did a double take as you put the spoon in Sam’s mouth, trying not to wake him. Grabbing his cell phone, he turned, taking a picture of Sam.

Biting your lip, you kissed Dean’s cheek. “Send me a copy. That’s too good to not to get one.” You chuckled lightly before sitting back.

Originally posted by carsexualdean

“Will do, baby.” He grinned before turning up the music and singing along. Sam jerked awake, spitting the spoon out, making you laugh. Watching Dean have such a good time made you extremely happy. He deserved it.

Sam leaned forward, turning down the music. “Ha ha.” He said without humor. “Not funny.”

You chuckled. “Sorry, Sammy.” He raised an eyebrow at you, glancing over his shoulder. “There’s not much scenery here, and you made it so easy…” You teased.

Dean was laughing, but it was clear that Sam wasn’t exactly amused. “Dean! We’re not kids anymore.” He snapped. “We’re not gonna start that up again.”

“First of all, that was her.” Dean pointed out. “Secondly, start what stuff?” He smirked.

Sam shot a glare at Dean. “This prank stuff! It’s stupid, and it always escalates.”

You bit your lip. “It’s like watching a puppy try to get mad.” You chuckled, earning a half annoyed, half amused look from Sam.

“What’s the matter, Sammy, afraid you’re gonna get a little Nair in your shampoo again?”

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Warnings: nothing woop

A/N: it’s eh but floofy and much apologies for being so late, but i’ve been taking aprt in fests so often this past month and like i’ve won 4 certificates guys omg aye


As he slowly drifted back into consciousness, he could hearing the soft rustling of the curtains as the soft sunlight hit his closed eyes. Soft tunes being hummed brought a smile to his face as a small tapping against the floor made him realise that you were dancing slightly.

“Good morning handsome,” you drawled out teasingly, pressing a soft kiss to his cheek, “rise and shine, Bucky. We have a big day today.”

His smile was now so big he could feel his cheeks beginning to ache as his hand suddenly shot out to grab you, making you squeal while he grinned, pulling you close to him on the bed.

“Not the way I planned, but hi-” You grinned as he buried his head into your shoulder, placing a small kiss there - “had a nice sleep?”

You could feel him nodding, his scruff tickling you slightly as you squirmed.

“What a way to wake up,” he finally sighed with content, snuggling into you more.

“As if you could ever wake up on time without me,” you said jokingly, rubbing circles onto his back. “How would you ever live without me?”

Keep reading

Thud. (o.1)

Synopsis: You’re friends aren’t the best crowd, far from it actually. But hen something drastic happens that causes a hatred between your friends and the popular kids what are you supposed to do when you weren’t even in school on the day it happened. And what are you supposed to do, when you don’t want to pick a side. [if well received possible part 2 on request.]




WORDS: 2449.

There was an eerie atmosphere in school the day you came back. People were giving you shifty looks, or moving out of your way for no reason. You lowered your head, watching your feet shift through the damp and cold school. Really, you didn’t want to be back; but you weren’t sick anymore. The gazes didn’t help your fatigue though, and soon you would just stare back or throw a look to say ‘I wasn’t even here?’ Your shoulders raised and dropped as you saw your best friend (Tommy). He told you what had happened. What he did. And why everyone now hated him and everyone to do with him. You fixed your back pack and walked on. toward him.

“He did what?” Jungkook muttered to Jimin, eyes wide and mouth gaping. Jungkook was easily in the popular crowd, whether it be for his muscle on the football team, or his singing voice or perhaps it’s just because of his looks. But certainly, it’s not his attitude, which sadly, you would later find out. 

“He broke the quarter back’s arm. I heard Tommy held it behind his back and kicked the guy down and it snapped.” Jimin whispered, causing Jungkook to wince; that sounded painful, awfully so. “What’s wrong with him?” Jungkook replied, looking over his shoulder to see the back of your friend. It didn’t dawn on him just how tall Tommy was until he looked. It wouldn’t be hard to break someones arm if you were as big as Tommy. 

“I dunno’. But, we don’t have enough players; we’re out of the league.” A hand raked through Jungkooks hair, teeth clenched as he found the bitterness which everyone else now held for your best friend, and for you and for all the delinquents out there like you. Kicking the locker, he let out his frustration. What they don’t know is Tommy did nothing wrong. The quarter back shoved Tommy first, and Tommy shoved back and the guy fell. It was an accident that everyone was blowing out of proportion. You could almost hear Jimin mention your name as you were about to walk past, not offering either of them a glance.

Yet, you felt the hook of your back pack being dragged to the floor and heard a ‘thud’ as you landed on your ass. “What the fuck?” You say, looking up from the floor at the boy who had dragged you down. Jungkook. He was off at the same time as you, for a different reason of course. But your first guess was that he had heard the spreading rumors. Pushing yourself up, you face him, fixing your strap over your shoulder.

 “What was that for?” You yell, with a lack of care at who heard you or who saw you. Jimin had taken a step back, which was appropriate, not because he was scared of you but because he and everyone else was now terrified at the prospect of your ‘brute’ of a friend as you have heard people call him. 

“Tell Tommy that he’s gonna’ regret what he did.” Jungkook hisses, prodding at your shoulder making you take a step back. “We’re out of the league because of you and your friends, nice going.” 

Your brows furrow, and you look over your shoulder to see Tommy looking left and right for you. Tightening your lips, you shove your hands into your pockets, so irritated by the confidence and abruptness of this asshole who hadn’t spoken to you more than twice before this. “Look asshole, your team was shit anyway, looks like he did you favour.” You cock an eye brow, a smug smile over coming your face. He was going to say something, you could see his hand going to prod at you again, so quickly you lifted your foot and kicked him in the knee cap, hard. You’re a delinquent at heart and so our your friends but sometimes people just deserve the worst. And Jungkook was one of those people. And with that you brushed past both of them.

“Hey where were you, Y/N?” Tommy asked, his eyes apprehensive of going anywhere by himself. It dwindled you to see him like this. He may have been strong and tall but he was quiet and kind, didn’t speak unless he had to and when he did it was always something smart that made you think. In every way, he was your opposite.

“Asshole football team were starting shit.” You grumble, looking over your shoulder to see Jungkook looking right back at you, little did you know, Tommy was also looking over his shoulder, and his expression was unreadable, but all the same; he was irritated.

“Look I just think you should say sorry.” Jimin coaxed. 

“No way.” Jungkook scribbled with his pen to make sure the ink was coming out. “She deserved it.” Shaking his head and beginning to write, he leaned hard on the pen. Those leagues were something he’d been practicing for, for years and in one day Tommy had been able to rip that away from the whole team.

“–Just—–!” Jimin began, before the teacher tapped a ruler on his desk to silence him. Putting his head down, he regretted telling Jungkook the news, because this was going to get everyone in trouble.


The lunch time crowds flooded into the hall, trays going by the second, people loitering around the water fountain and gossip being passed across table tops. The room seemed to silence when you walked in with Tommy in tow, only low whispers filling the space as you began to move toward your table, where Tommy dumped his bag and where you sat down with your packed lunch. As our friend left to join the queue for hot food. Opening your lunch box, you took out the sandwiches, taking a large bite before setting your elbows on the table and awaiting the rest of your group.

However, your eyes widen as the person you least expect sits directly in front of you. You swallow the bread and cheese mixture and roll your eyes before throwing it in the box again. 

“Oh what the fuck do you want?” You groan, resting your cheek in your hand as he began his apology. Looks like Jimin had pulled him around in the corridor. 

“I’m sorry about what happened earlier, It’s just your fucking fri—” The slam of a tray echoed in the hall, but before you could look to see what caused it, Tommy yanked Jungkook off the stool and onto the floor, just as Jungkook had done to you in the morning. “You’re still bothering her?” Tommy asked, looking down at Jungkook, lips frowning and brows furrowed. You throw yourself between them.

“No, no. It’s not this loser!” You say, waving your hands in front of you to get Tommy to stop. “It’s someone else, look I’ll point him out to you when I see him, alright?” Tommy nods at you before shifting a glare to Jungkook, taking his tray and regaining his spot in the line while other students hurried out of his way. 

“Hey! I don’t need you fucking standing up for me? Got it?” He shouts, from the floor, his elbows being his only platform raising him up. 

You put your foot on his stomach and press down, not hard enough to hurt, but hard enough to show him he better shut up. “If I didn’t step in you would have lost your arms. Be fucking grateful.”

His friends ran to his aid, heaving him from the ground and escorting him back to his designated lunch table and you ate in peace.

Jungkook got your bus and you even walked home the same way. Never before did you bother to talk to each other on the way home and nor would you start today. Instead, it was mere hateful glances with misconceptions before you slammed the door to your house and he turned the corner. At least that day was over.

Brushing your teeth you looked at your phone, you had a message from a number you didn’t know.

UNKNOWN: The whole school hates you.

You looked at it unphased, spitting your tooth paste into the sink before texting back.

Y/N: I hate the whole school. Big deal.

They read it and no reply was given, probably because, coming from you they knew that your answer wasn’t a lie. It was only when you finished your cereal did you receive another.

UNKNOWN: Even me? :)

Your brows furrow as you walk out the front door typing ‘yeah’ into your phone and sending it only to hear a ‘BING’ from the other side of the street.

“Especially you.” You say, looking from your phone to Jungkook, who’s eye brows raised in surprise. You said no more, and ignored anything he tried to say to you; whether it was justifying his actions of the day before, explaining how sorry he pretended he was or how he tried to talk about Tommy. But instead, every time he did you snarled at him and walked faster.

“Y/N’s a bitch!” He whined, leaning back in his chair, rubbing his eyes with the palms of his hands. “ She won’t even listen.”

“Dude, she’s not that bad.” Jimin sighed. He hadn’t told anyone, but he actually liked you. Always had and always would. He liked your spunk, but oddly so; you were nice to Jimin, he never really got on your nerves or tried to make you feel bad. He was just an okay guy. 

“Don’t tell me you like her.” Jungkook said, leaning forward on his seat and holding the edge of it in intrigue. “No way. You can’t!” He shouted.

“Shut up!” Jimin said, placing his hand of Jungkook’s mouth. “I don’t know if I do, give me a break. If you got to know her you would see what I mean. I’ve talked to her before, we have science together, she’s pretty funny.”

“Jungkook!” The teacher called, “Do me a favor, go down to room B8 and find Y/N. The principle wants to see her.”

Rolling his eyes, he took the note from his teacher and shut the door behind him. So Jimin liked you. His best friend actually liked you. Was this some kind of joke.

“Up the tempo.” Tommy said, raising his hand as if you couldn’t have heard him properly. You nod, and take the drum sticks and play slow as the rest of the band plays over you. This is where you spend most of your free classes. And everybody knew it. Certainly you didn’t have the best grades, far from it. Actually, the only reason they are letting you stay in school is because you play for the baseball team and your contributions to the school productions and concerts. You’re the only drummer in your year, and the best one in the school. So they keep you.

Bashing the drum sticks as you reach the chorus, you are the only one to notice the door creek open, and the raven haired boy slip through it, shoving his hand into his pocket and pulling out a note and waving it to you. Abruptly, you hold the symbol you had just smashed, and the sound stops. Grumpily, you toss down your drum sticks and give a signal to Tommy that you would be back in a second before you followed Jungkook out the door.

“Principle wants to see you.” He says, dropping the note into your hand.

You crumple it up and put it in your pocket, and as you brush past him; you hear him stumble for some words to say.

“I heard you playing— you’re pretty good.”

You stop, frowning you turn to face him again.

“Thanks— I guess.” You say, scratching the back of your neck, awkward at his compliment.

“Okay, now you go.” He returns, nodding toward you.

“Go where?”

“You give me a compliment, duh.” He says, crossing his arms.

You laugh, genuinely at his words. So much so you close your eyes and hold your stomach, was he serious? You open your eyes, still laughing watching his shocked expression soften into a smile. “I guess you’re funny if you say dumb stuff like that.”


“Jungkook you asshole!” You yell, as your stomach down in the corridor after he has tripped you up. You only have on class left and sadly, he’s in it. You look up as he laughs at your trip before walking on. Swiftly, you reach out and grab his ankle and pull it back, causing him to fall on his face infront of you. Getting up you run past him and sit in your seat.

Shoving the door open he’s about to yell at you, but the teacher steps in behind him assigning him to his seat. And as he sits down you discreetly give him the middle finger. At least he made hating him fun. Other people would just do it in silence. 

Your teacher was rambling on about a group project. and in your thoughts you had already predetermined your partner to be Ella. She was smart, she had all the best grades and all she did was study; she was the perfect person to be paired up with.

Jungkook had already chosen Jimin. It was obvious by the look they had given eachother, and you were determined to have a better project than them. It wouldn’t be hard, Jungkook wasn’t exactly the focused type, but neither were you. But if things went to plan you would have Ella on your side and you would never have to worry about you doing any of the work and screwing up.

“But I’ll be choosing the partners.” Your teacher said, taking a preplanned list into her hands and calling out the names. You went pale, as soon she was reaching your name and Ella had already been picked.

“Jeon Jungkook and—- Y/N!” 


That was the noise of you banging your head of the table repetitively. Why, why why? Looking over your shoulder you could tell he felt the same as you, he was as white as a ghost. Maybe he knew you two together would fail. And he couldn’t afford to fail classes and miss the football team. And you couldn’t afford to make your situation with the football team any worse and certainly your grades weren’t going any lower.

“Hey partner.” He sighed, taking the chair next to you as everyone moved seats.

“Howdy.” You groan. If you could be anywhere else on the planet right now; you would be anywhere. Anywhere but in that chair, in the same space as him. But sometimes you just have to make the best of the worst situation.

anonymous asked:

34 with midotaka please PLEASE

Title: Counterstrike 
Characters/Pairing: Midorima/Takao 
Prompt: 34. “If you keep looking at me like that we won’t make it to a bed.” 
Summary: Kazunari’s feeling ignored lately.
Warnings: T for smexy times, possibly M, IDK 
AN: Thanks for the prompt. I had to research Japanese medical schools for this one and I’m sure there’s a lot I got wrong. I’ve got three prompts left in my queue. If I haven’t gotten to yours yet, I will soon. If you’d like more of these two idiots, send me a number. Also, please read my series, You’re the One, on AO3. 


Dating a med student meant Kazunari had a lot of time on his hands. It also meant he spent a lot of time with his hands. 

The fourth year of Shin-chan’s medical school education had so far been the worst. Well, maybe the hawkeye was exaggerating a little bit, but not by much. Takao felt like he was living in a monastery instead of sharing with his hot boyfriend a comfortable-by-Tokyo-standards apartment in Bunkyō, which was only a stone’s throw (certainly within Shin-chan’s considerable range) away from the leading medical school on the continent.

He’d been flying solo, so to speak, a lot lately. It definitely felt like he’d unknowingly taken an unwanted vow of celibacy broken only by limited intervals when he could persuade his boyfriend to pay attention to something other than his anatomy books. Pay attention to Kazu’s anatomy, Shin-chan, he’d whined. To which Shin-chan had responded, Idiot. Stop jumping on the bed, you’re disheveling my orderly stack of note cards. Which was kind of true, but Takao had been restless. He’d had all this pent up energy and no suitable outlet to release it. Not a satisfying one, anyway.   

When Kazunari was at his absolute limit, he would resort to groveling, Please Shin-chan, I can’t wait any longer. If I don’t get some right this minute, I’ll die. Of course, Midorima would respond with a bespectacled eye-roll at his ridiculous boyfriend and remind Kazunari that no one, absolutely no one – in the entire history of forever – had perished from such a sordid affliction.

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