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#Why Local Area Marketing
mxwhore · 1 year
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went to the farmers market and bought my veggies for the week :)
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what-even-is-sleep · 1 year
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DAMMIT what’s the line between:
‘bad publicity is still publicity’ and posting screenshots abt the tumblr shop tab moving to our blog spots
VS
I don’t want to stay silent on this topic and I know that just one formal complaint won’t do much if we aren’t all angry at the Instagram/Tik-Tok-ification that’s happening rn
#tiktokification as in I’ve been seeing posts abt images not being easy to zoom into anymore??? + the ads take up the ENTIRE screen on mobile#tumblr#tumblr updates#mypost#tumblr shop#ughhhhhhh#enshittification#enshittification of socials or whatever#i want to know why tumblr is doing this but I also don’t#cause I don’t want to hear bs black-and-white arguments about ‘no media should make money ever’ and tumblr is not a small local Etsy gal#or whatever#they have to make money someway#smth smth ‘if ur not paying for the product u are the product’#but I also don’t want to know abt the deets bc that means tumblr has fucked up enough that I’m mad enough to do so and so looking at#the Truth About Marketing for tumblr or whatever is SO ANNOYING#UGHH TUMBLR#idk if any of this is coherent bc I have absolutely horrible short term memory and by the time I’m halfway thru writing a tag I can’t see#what my previous sentences were (I’m on mobile) and so I loose my train of thought lol#anyways I think the gist is: this fucking sucks. people are going to be annoyingly us-vs-them/black-n-white when arguing about this cause#arguing is easier than doing the research and discovering greyer areas#AND: we’ve gotten to the point of rage/un satisfaction with the steps this app is taking that a push towards researched-back arguments may b#the only way forward to have actual change… :|#like again this could end up mostly having been for publicity for the store cause ofc ppl will complain and post screenshots and then more#ppl will see like ‘ooh fun stickers guess I’ll get those!’ and Marketing Tumblr or whatever will know that ‘oh if we disrupt them in these#ways we will get more attention from this fickle consumer base’#idk if we’re even that fickle lol there’s a lot of self-praise on tumblr lately (b4 the shop moving) that probably has swayed marketing#folks to push this thing we don’t like cause they think we’ll get outraged or say it’s better than other sites and either way it’s publicity
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lukesbenward · 1 year
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i do be hating the people is this class sometimes
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hardrockshrimp · 10 months
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reiderwriter · 3 months
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Hi Kacie!! Now that your requests are open... Could I request a smutty fic where Spencer finds out reader has a not-so-common sensitive spot (like her legs, hair, arms, whatever body part you want). Maybe he finds out kinda in a public setting after she gets all flustered and wants to keep pushing to test his theory?? You can take as much inspo from this as you want<3
(If this emoji's not taken)-💃 anon
A/N: Hello! Sorry for going MIA for a while there. It was the beginning of a new school year here in SK, so I've been really busy! I've been chipping away at this one little by little, and it's finally done! I hope you enjoy it ♡
Warnings; Smut, 18+ Minors DNI, case details, misogyny from a bartender in the opening scene, Semi-public sexual experimentation, edging, PinV sex, use of pet names (good girl), slight degradation, cum play, etc.
Masterlist
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The back of the bar was dimly lit as you walked through it, keeping pace with your teammate as you kept one eye on the shady inhabitants of the bar. 
You'd been sent - with Spencer of all people - to ask the local dive bar staff about suspicious regulars. A fact that didn't exactly take into account his general lack of intimidating looks and your status as the newest member of the team. 
A trial by fire if you'd ever seen one. 
You tried your best not to stick out like a sore thumb, but the people in these parts could spot a Fed from a mile away. And though Spencer was remarkably pipe-cleaner-like, they'd certainly recognised enough FBI in him to clam up upon your entrance. 
“We got some visitors, I see. What can I be getting you, little lady?” The barman greeted you as you reached the first stool at the counter, a patronizing smile on his moustache clad lips. 
“If it's okay, we'd like to ask you some questions. I'm Agent Y/N with the FBI. This is my partner, Doctor Spencer Reid.”
“You're a Fed? Now, why would you bother doing all that hard work when you could be warming my bed, girl. It's definitely more honest and satisfying work.” 
The way the man leered at you over the counter has you freezing momentarily. Your instincts were saying fight, but you held your tongue just long enough to not ruin any rapport your team could build with locals. 
“I'm flattered, but already spoken for I'm afraid. Have you seen any suspicious men in here in the last six months, one that would pass through only semi-regularly, maybe with a few female companions, though never the same.” 
Professionalism at the cost of your peace of mind was going to be a hard learn for you as you grit your teeth and swallowed the bile in your throat. 
He just continued to leer at you as he dried up beer glasses. 
“You're looking for a man who likes cheap whores? Maybe you are in the market for a career change after all.” 
That was about all you could take, and luckily, Spencer Reid was well aware. 
Quickly grabbing you by the wrist, he pulled you behind him defensively and leaned over the bar, his voice low and somewhat chilling. 
“Disrespect my partner like that again, and I'll have you charged with aiding and abetting a murderer who has kidnapped and ended the lives of three local girls. Local girls whose fathers you're more than likely acquainted with, who absolutely have multiple acres of property and just enough bullets to put you in the ground.” 
The blood rushed to your ears at his voice, but the light grip of your wrist held you in place indefinitely. 
All the fight left your body, as you found yourself coming dangerously close to melting into Spencer in relief. 
He forced the man to answer some more basic questions, but it wasn't as if you could hear them. He stroked a quick thumb back and forth across your wrist as all the thoughts fled your head, and the words fell asleep on your tongue, resting there until he released you from his grip. 
You'd known that the area was slightly sensitive for a while, having accidentally brushed up against things and felt serious chills shoot up your spine. What you hadn't known was that it was that kind of sensitivity. 
Though, in all honesty, you hadn't exactly known that you could feel that kind of excitement for Spencer either. You just hoped he wouldn't notice. That much. 
Having finished his line of questioning and reiterating his threat, he moved his hand from your wrist to the small of your back and adeptly guided you from the restaurant and out of the line of vision of every pair of eyes in the place. 
“Are you okay?” He asked when he finally got you to the car, voice still quiet and low, and slightly too close to let you fully relax. 
“Peachy. He talked to you at least.” You turned away from him and began opening the passenger side door. 
“Nothing new or useful, though. Your bpm is high,” he joined you in the car, putting on his seat belt while you completely let go of yours, letting it zip back into itself.
“My… my what?” 
“Your bpm is high. Your heart was beating so fast,” he said, reaching over you to help you reclip it. “Were you nervous, Y/n? Or just sensitive?”
“Your mouth is entirely too close to mine to be asking that question,” you breathed out, cursing your eyes from stealing a glance at his lips. 
Only five minutes into this sudden attraction to Spencer Reid, and you were already mortified and extremely horny. In equal measures. 
“What would be the appropriate distance to ask that, then?” 
“I hear Australia is lovely this time of year.” 
He chuckled softly at you as he finished adjusting your seat and then moved far enough away to let the ground swallow you in peace. 
Never one to leave well enough alone, it seemed that Spencer took it upon himself to experiment with you for weeks on end after that. 
He'd constantly ask you to pass him papers, pens, anything that'd allow him to run a finger across the inside of your wrist. On more than one occasion you'd caught him staring into your eyes as he did it, and it took a nearly embarrassing amount of time to realise he was checking how dilated your pupils were before and after. 
When he'd gathered enough data for that line of questioning, he moved on to bigger things. 
You knew you were in danger of seriously falling head over ads when he offered to walk you to your motel door in a seedier case location. 
You, an FBI agent with a real-life gun and badge and job at Quantico, and you were jumping at the chance to have a man walk you to your room. You'd have been embarrassed if you weren't burning with anticipation. 
You hoped that like every other man in history, he was gently trying to insinuate himself into your bedroom, and by extension, your bed and more intimate places. 
So you were more than slightly disappointed when he started wishing you a good night. All of the aforementioned disappointment fled your body, though, when he picked up your hand and dropped a kiss to the inside of your left wrist, repeating the action on the right before wordlessly retreating. 
You stared at his back as he walked purposefully down the corridor and into his own room, leaving you to pick up your jaw and retreat to your room to lick your wounds. 
You wished it was him picking you up instead and found your brain imagining just that as your fingers dropped between your thighs that night. 
It became a case tradition for him to tease you like this, kissing your wrist after innocently walking you back to your hotel room. The others thought it chivalrous, almost cute and childlike, a form of courting that graced the good old days. They didn't know he grabbed you by the waist and held you against his hard-on every time you rode an elevator together. They didn't know his tongue darted out a few times to lick your wrist on occasion. They didn't know how you once mentally begged him to bite you there and how you shuddered as he ran his teeth along the vein there. 
Spencer was coming to the crux of his research regarding how far he could push you before you cracked. Only now, it was how far he could get without pushing you against a wall and jumping your bones. 
You knew you were in danger when he offered to escort you home after a case. 
“To walk you to your door, you know? Like always,” he smiled at you, the picture of innocence as you became damp between your thighs. 
“Sure. Yeah, okay, I'll get my keys, let's go.” 
You weren't sure how no one else noticed that Spencer didn't have a car to drive himself home after taking you to yours. You were unsure if they'd connect the dots between him escorting you home and his own apartment being 45 minutes in the opposite direction. 
Luckily for you, you could keep your hands at 2 and 10 the entire journey, away from his grasp. If he'd have touched you right then, you're sure you'd have driven both of you right off the road into a ditch. 
Or a pedestrian. 
The drive was calm, but pulling up forced your heart to your throat and kept it suspended there, almost like it was frozen at gunpoint, a deer in the headlights. 
“We're here.” 
“Great. Let me walk you in.” 
In. You swallowed hard, wishing very much for him to be inside of your apartment. 
“Okay.” 
Stepping into the elevator a few minutes later, he waited mere seconds after the doors began closing to pull you into his personal space. He was hard, he was so hard once again and his cock was now straining against your ass.
“Spencer, we need to talk about t-that,” he stroked your wrist as his hand splayed across your stomach, holding you firmly against him. 
“About what, Y/N?” 
He pulled your arm up almost as if inspecting the wrist for imperfections, and your head melted back into his chest. Why was this elevator so goddamn slow? 
You sprung out quickly when the doors pinged open finally and moved straight towards your door without a glance back, but you felt him close behind you. 
“Y/N, wait for me, wait, I'm sorry,” he called out quietly as you forced your keys into the lock as fast as possible. 
“Y/N, I'm sorry if I stepped over the line, I didn't mean too, please look at me-” 
You got the door open and turned back around to grab a firm hold of his tie and yank him into the apartment behind you. 
“Months. Spencer, you have been edging me for months, and I am sick of it.” You half growled at him, slamming the door behind him and then pushing him up against it. 
“I can feel how hard you are right now. Obviously you want to fuck me, so why aren't you?” 
His face went from shocked to intrigued, then shot straight for mischievous as he cracked a smile, and you felt his hands wrap around your wrists slowly. 
Before you could react, he had your positions swapped, your arms above your head pinned at the wrists and his breath hitting your neck as he answered. 
“I wanted to see how long it would take you to break.” 
Your lips leapt to his, hitting him angrily as you searched for more pleasure in his touch, one leg pushing up to wrap around his waist as his hips settled between yours. 
He met you at your level, giving just as good as he got.   
“Call it scientific curiosity,” he murmured, lips trailing down your neck, but hips pinning you in closer to the wall, keeping you trapped there. He made his way along your shoulders and then pressed light teasing kisses up your arms while rutting his hips into you, dry humping you against the wall as your eyes glazed over in lust. 
“You react when I touch you, you heat up. But it gets worse if I touch you here, right Y/N?” His lips again found your wrist, but this time his teeth grazed across the veins he found there. 
“You get so horny now when I look at you. I can grab your wrist and make you beg for my cock, isn't that right?” His mouth was back by your ear as your legs went limp under you. He still had you caged against your own door, and you had no idea what to say to that. 
Part of you wanted to protest purely because of the rough tone of voice he was using. The other wanted to flood to the floor and tell him yes, beg him to just fuck you and be done with this pure torture. 
“I asked you a question, Y/N. Isn't that right?” 
“Yes, yes, Spencer fuck, I don't care anymore, yes. You can touch me and I'll react to you, please help me.”
“Good girl.” 
He pulled away instantly, but his hands wrapped firmly still around your wrists. Slowly, he pulled you towards him as he slowly walked backwards further into your apartment. You thought for a second about just throwing yourself back into his arms, to close the space he'd created again between the two of you. 
You tried it, lifted your head slightly, begging his lips to return there, but he held firm. Each step was an agony of need, and you fought to hold your tongue, begging yourself not to beg him so pathetically. 
“Such a good girl, I'm holding you by the wrist, and you won't even protest about how slow I'm being.” 
Your mouth fell open as you registered his words. 
“You're being an ass.” 
“What was that? You want me to touch your ass?”
“Spencer!”
“Don't worry, we'll get to that.”
His back finally made contact with your bedroom door, and you stumbled forward into his chest as he kept his grip even still. 
“You're going to listen, right? You're going to listen to me and do what I ask you to do, aren't you?”
You wavered again. He'd been teasing you, but now he was serious, his tone light and his voice soft, but you could feel the strength in his grip. You could feel his arousal at your hip. 
“Yes, Spencer.”
“Good. Get on your knees on the bed. No clothes.”
He released your hands and opened the door for you as you tried your best to walk forward calmly. 
By the time you reached the bed, you'd removed most of your clothes, but you hesitated at the underwear as he watched from behind you. A quick glance over your shoulder saw him palming his cock through his pants, still leaning against the door he'd opened for you. 
He was getting off watching you, and you were frozen in arousal. 
“No clothes, Y/N.” 
“I know.”
“Underwear is clothing.” 
“I know that, too, Spencer.”
“Then take it off.” 
You shot a quick glare over your shoulder as you unclaimed your bra behind your back and threw it to the floor. 
“On my knees, right?” You said, climbing on the bed still clad in your panties. 
“I also said no clothes.” 
“If you're so invested in my state of dress, how about you come and help me rectify it.”
His lips twitched in small annoyance, but he followed the trail of clothes you'd left, ridding himself of his tie, shirt, jacket, and pants along the way. 
He climbed on the bed slowly behind you, not opposite as you'd presumed he would. His hands reached out to touch your back before slowly sliding all the way up to your neck and pushing your upper body down into the sheets. 
You let out a little squeak in shock, but let his hands guide you, feeling especially pliant when he grabbed your hands and crossed them behind your back. 
“Maybe the panties can stay. I'll just decorate them afterwards,” he said, and with that, he pulled your hips up with his free hand  guiding you into the position he wanted you in, and pushed two fingers into you. 
“Fuck, Spencer-” your brain short circuited as he pumped the digits slowly in and out of you, setting an agonizing pace but holding you so tight that.you couldn't even press your cunt back into his fingers. 
“What? What is it, Y/N? Tell me how you feel?” 
“Feel good, so good Spencer, p-please more.” 
He shifted slowly behind you, pulling his fingers out almost completely before pushing them back in, this time with another finger added. He didn't quicken his pace as you assumed he would, but he took his time stretching you out further as you moaned and whined underneath him. 
“More. You wanted more,” he reminded you, and his voice was like a sharp hit straight to your cunt, rough and hot and filling you completely. 
You barely registered the orgasm that flowed over you, your brain replaying his words on a loop as he continued pleasuring you. 
“That's it. That's a good girl. Get my fingers nice and wet.” 
When you finally grounded yourself in the moment again, your cheeks flushed as you realized just how wet you'd gotten. You felt your arousal still dripping down your leg and turned your face further into the sheets to hide your embarrassment. 
He pulled his fingers out of you, though, and with his now free hand he crouched over you and hooked his fingers under your jaw lifting your head and body up, forcing your crotch back into his as your back arched. 
“Don't hide from this. Look how wet you are for me, Y/N. Taste it.” He tapped his fingers against your mouth and you were ashamed at how fast your lips dropped open, tongue falling out to let him wipe his cum stained fingers against your pretty little lips. 
You tasted yourself on his fingers, wrapping your tongue around them and sucking as he dragged his dick across your back, trying to relieve himself in any way he could. 
“Good girl. It's time for one more, Y/N.” 
You released his fingers with a wet pop as he pushed you back into the sheets. Lining himself up, he entered you easily, your cum providing ample lubricant. 
You whined at his first few pumps, certain he was going to continue his torturous pace and leave you begging for more hours into the night. 
Instead, he let himself work you up to it, each thrust gaining in speed and strength until you could hear the slap of your skin against his more vividly than your own heartbeat. 
His cock was thick, filling you perfectly as you lost yourself in the sensations. 
“One day, I'll handcuff you to this bed,” he said, leaning down and whispering in your ear as each part of your body vibrated with lust. 
“I'll tie you down to this bed, and I'll treat you like a princess. I'll eat your cunt for hours until you cum every time my breath hits your cunt, and I'll cover your pretty tits in my seed. I'll let you use my cock as your personal sex toy, and I'll fulfill every single need you have.” 
His hand released your wrists as both of his hands came to wrap around your waist, pushing you deeper into the plush covers and changing the angle of his dick. 
You screamed at the pleasure, forgetting the paper thin walls your apartment boasted. 
“Fuck, Spencer.” 
“And you're going to love every single second because your brain switches off every time I touch your delicate little wrists.”
With that, another wave of pleasure spread through your body, sending prolonged shivers throughout your body. 
You felt him withdraw and heard the sticky mess of him stroking himself behind you until he made good on his promise and sprayed his generous load across your ass and panties before collapsing on the bed next to you. 
The two of you laid there for what felt like hours, sharing nothing but your labored breaths and the space of the bed before he finally rose. 
You tried not to sleep, but your entire body felt stiff from the awkward, if enjoyable, position he'd held you in. 
Your eyes drifted shut, and you just listened to his movements. A creaking floorboard here, a stumble against some furniture there, culminating in some running water and a return to your space. 
“Y/N,” he whispered, cautious to rise you from what he assumed was much needed sleep. 
“Mmmm,” was all you could reply.
“I realize now that I made a pretty big mess, so we need to get you in the bath.” 
“Mmm,” you protested, brows furrowing as you tried to gather your sheets closer around you, cradling yourself in the warmth. 
But doing so only made you more aware of the sticky wet mess around your torso and legs, and you let out a small, frustrated sigh. 
“You're stubborn, you know that, right?” He said, admiration coating his tongue as he lifted you slowly and helped you place your feet on the floor and walk towards your bathroom. 
“Spencer, shouldn't have a bath, too sleepy.” 
“I know, I'm going to stay.”
“In the bath?” 
“In the bath.” 
“Good.”
And it was. You let him lift your legs one by one into the scorching water and melted back into him, your head resting on his shoulder as if it were the most comfortable pillow you'd ever used, and you slept. 
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faeriekit · 10 months
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New In Town (dp x dc)
ALRIGHT! 👏🏽 A prompt. (Or, well. A premise.) I’m schtealing a lot of worldbuilding from @mediumsizedpidegon‘s post here so bear with me please.
The Bats, however they catch wind of Amity, catch wind of Amity Park. Of course they do. Amity Park has a very distinct presence— Or, well, a lack of a presence. It may have an abundance of documented weirdness online, from folk stories to abandoned livestreams to concerning details in expats’ online blogs.
But there is no online evidence of Amity Park that leaves Amity Park.
So. What is a family of detectives to do when confronted with the need to gather physical evidence? Road Trip, baby!🏄🏽‍♂️🚗🚞🚡
Everyone hops in the car/Batplane and makes their way to Amity Park; they make hotel reservations, ring up the only reasonably rich enough people to even touch their social circle (the Manson family, and Vlad Masters, apparently), make an itinerary for all the documented tourist stops to hit up while in town off the town website, and prepare themselves for whatever dimensional weirdness is causing a complete tech blackout on the town and an inability to be found by satellite.
They get about ten feet into Amity proper when they meet the first local.
His name is Danny. He’s nice! Affable. He looks a lot like any other Wayne sibling, actually, if a little on the younger side. He notices it’s their first time in town. Do they need any help getting around?
Best way to get information is to ingratiate with a local, so...sure, why not? They get a free tour guide, Danny gets to show off his town; they see all the sights, like the local burger joint, the school, the Manson home, the town hall, the city proper. They’re having a clothing swap in the temple parking lot, actually. You should go check it out!
For whatever reason, it’s all...Punk? Goth? There’s a couple of lolita dressed tossed in, and some crocheted things. Everyone has a trunk out their car, eyeliner, and at least two piercings in their face; everyone here seems to know each other on a personal level. Well, small towns are small towns. Whatever.
Danny isn’t deterred by their reactions. If they want, there’s the movie in park tonight! If not, they can catch dinner, though; their hotel restaurant closes at 8pm sharp. (He just...knows this off the top of his head?)
They split up. Some of the family people watch at the restaurant. Everyone is...weirdly courteous to them. A little standoffish. But not at the Wayne name, just at...them being there.
The people at the park find out they’re watching The Night of the Living Dead. This would be much more normal if the park wasn’t also clearly the cemetery, in the middle of July? Which is. Why? It’s not even for any holiday or special time of the year? It’s just...clearly a movie night in the summer? There are little kids here, playing among the gravestones while their parents set out blankets and snacks. Why is this considered a family event??
Well. At least Jason has fun.
Everyone goes to bed and reconvenes in the morning. When they wake up and roll out for the day, Danny manages to find them again, this time with two new friends, bright and chipper in the morning. There’s a farmer’s market today! Everyone’s worked really hard on this week’s harvest; don’t they want to see?
...Sure?
And the longer they’re in Amity Park, the more they begin to realize how convenient it is, that they’re ferried around so easily; that there’s immediately a local who takes a liking to them, that there’s always something else to do; how suspicious it is that no data can get in or out of Amity now that they’re in it, or how they can’t seem to get close to any of the more suspicious parts of town they want to infiltrate. The town is entirely closed to outside influences. The fashion trends are strange and foreign. They only eat things grown in the area, by people they know, and it’s all sort of...green. Everyone knows everyone. Everyone knows where to go. Who to talk to. The superstitions— make no wishes, step on no cracks, wear no large jewelry, cross no shadows of any person (living or dead, apparently), speak to no one without full view of their eyes. 
But nothing seems dangerous— not until a few of them try to investigate Axiom Labs, a subsidiary of the otherwise national Dalvco company, and are met to the face with a blaster that uses tech they’ve never seen, by a red fighter in an ultra-synthetic suit.
Overnight, the extremely polite and welcoming town becomes a hostile entity to fight their way out of.
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beggars-opera · 11 months
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Ok, so I live in one of the more liberal areas of the country. Our governor is a lesbian and I literally did not even know until after she got elected, because it was that much of a nonissue.
Lately, I'm seeing more and more local institutions doing things for Pride. Institutions that don't necessarily have to, or do so awkwardly, but they're trying to be good allies. And, even here, I see people foaming at the mouth. This thing is ruined. Unprofessional. Political. Sexual. Boycotting, disgusted, bye.
And a part of me is like, "Why would a random store, a museum, a restaurant, do this?" Part of my mind has been so corrupted by the idea of rainbow capitalism that the thought of someone just...trying to be an imperfect ally is a cash grab.
It's not. Every bit counts, and especially as we see pushback, and see some of those corporations beginning to rethink their rainbow capitalism, the places that continue to speak up are so, so important.
I'm reminded of a rant by Illustrious Old White Man Historian Gordon Wood a few years back where he lamented how fragmented modern history is. Why do we need ANOTHER book about women, about enslaved people, about the poor? Why are we focusing on these people instead of George Mount Rushmore Washington?
And it was an interesting framing, because he insinuated that these micro histories were bad not because they existed, but because they didn't give the whole story, which in Gordon's mind was a story in which they were the side characters instead of the mains. To that end a biography of G Wash that features the bare shadow of Billy Lee in the far distance is a complete history, all that needs to be said, because one of those figures is a God Amongst Men and the other does not deserve to be fully fleshed out as a full, autonomous human being with a family and a profession and a beating heart. And a biography of William Lee, war aid, professional valet, and person closest to the first president of the United States, with the shadow of George in the background, would consequently be Bad History, because no one is saying that this man didn't exist, but his story isn't the whole story. It's backwards; he should be a footnote, and if he's not, that's bias.
But for me, as a historian, I know that the reason these microhistories exist, and are so important, is that they didn't exist before. Before someone can be truly, purposefully, tactfully inserted into the historical narrative, you need to know who they are. Not just as a name, not just as an archetype. You have to get to the point where there are so many books flooding the market about women and children and immigrants that it's no longer controversial to be talking about them, where learning about them instead of someone else is normal.
THEN you can feel good about rewriting the more general narrative. THEN you can actually have the information you need in order to put things into their proper context, to rethink the most important figure in each story, to assess what the full milieu of the time is.
And that's where we're at with Pride. We are still very much living in a time where queer people are shadow characters in the background. They are people that many will admit exist, but for god's sake, don't make them important, don't make them real, don't make them normal. And until we can shove rainbows down everyone's throats to the point where being queer is no longer seen as a thing that is Other, until we convince people that we're not going away, we will never be able to fully assimilate queerness into society.
We can't just be normal about Pride, because normal isn't loud enough to not get drowned out.
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lingerina · 4 months
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⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀𝐎𝓥𝐄𝐑𝐃𝐑𝐈𝓥𝐄 - yu jimin
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␥ karina x fem!reader ␥ 916 words 🚨 choking, overstimulation, dacryphilia (?), praise ␥ you swore to never work for a rideshare app again but getting laid off leaves you no choice. you end up becoming someone’s getaway driver, not realizing you’re in for way more than you bargained for. ␥ A/N inspired by this ask (and reblogs) from ages ago. also could be read as (sort of?) optional bias since i realized i never used her name here. 🧍🏻‍♀️ and it took me this long to write for my bias? 🤪
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You never wanted to go back to Uber but after being laid off and having bills due soon, you had no choice.
You earned the most when you drove around the airport, downtown, and during late-night hours, which were windows to some of the craziest things you’ve previously experienced as a driver. You’ve gotten caught up in a drug deal and bank heist before, which was why you swore to never be an app driver again.
Every ride, you hoped that your passengers were normal law-abiding citizens who just needed a ride to the local market or something. Fortunately, they had been.
Until you made the mistake of driving off with a passenger who wasn’t the one that ordered a ride from you.
She had run up to your car—impressively in heels—and slammed the door shut as if she was being chased, shouting for you to drive off before you even get a chance to confirm you’re picking up the right person. Meeting her sharp eyes in your rear view mirror startled you into stepping on the gas because in the pit of your guts, you were uncertain if you were in harm’s way again and ignoring her might actually put your life on the line.
The ride had been silent, your actual passenger that you’d driven past being one of the only two thoughts crossing your mind after you had hovered a shaky hand over your phone, that’s mounted to the air vent, to cancel her request. You didn’t know where you were driving, and you couldn’t accept any other ride that were popping up on your app. There were more red areas on the map, indicating major activity and hefty tips that you could’ve gotten your hands on had you refused to let the mysterious raven-haired beauty in your car.
She stared out the window for what felt like hours. She didn’t utter a word and you were too afraid to ask questions. You aimlessly drove around, hoping she would finally say something and end this torture.
When she abruptly met eyes with you in the mirror again, you startled.
You tried to break the ice and asked for her destination, but what followed was more silence, a sudden request to park in the parking lot of an abandoned warehouse, and two-word commands for you to step out and join her in the backseat where she ended up breaking you.
You’re seated on her lap with your back pressed against her chest and her hand wrapped around your throat. Taunting words brush over your ear, inducing a chill that ripples down your spine as three of her fingers are inside you. Your body horribly betrays you as your car echoes with the filthy squelches of your dripping pussy and your cries as she violates you.
Nonetheless, you part your legs wider and buck against her hand, tears pricking the corners of your eyes from your morals dissipating and your desire to be broken burning. With your leggings torn at your crotch and bearing the stains of your pleasure, you’re reduced to nothing but a moaning mess for a gorgeous stranger who may or may not be dangerous.
She squeezes tighter, her well-manicured nails threatening to pierce the soft skin of your throat, a low praise of ‘good girl’ uttered at the shell of your ear threatening the sliver of sanity you have left. You catch your breath when she releases her grip, which moves down your clavicle to tear at the collar of your tee. She yanks at your bra, unveiling your breast for the palm of her hand, and kneads in tandem with the pace of her fingers.
Your head lolls back over her shoulder, hoarse moans polluting your once-silent vehicle as she fucks you harder. Tension grips at your limbs, your toes curling as her curled digits reach that spot. The spot where you need her most.
“Come on, baby,” she purrs with a sly smirk. “Give it to me.”
You oblige on cue. Your eyes roll back as you soil her hand in the midst of ecstasy, your wetness dirtying her dress, her lap, and the back of the seat. She didn’t spare you mercy before, and she’s definitely not sparing you now.
She toys with you until you think you’ve given her your all. As soon as you fall limp, she slips back inside you and you swiftly ascend to your brink once more, the sensitivity blurring your vision with white dots as you gush all over her. 
She refuses to let you recuperate. Just when you think it’s over, she makes her unwelcome return, her expert fingers repeatedly bringing you to ecstasy like a broken film. She gets off on your tears and pleas because they’re a stark contrast to you squirting all over her and dirtying your car in the process. When she’s had her fill, she shifts you off her lap like a discarded toy and finally steps out without a word, leaving you alone in the abandoned parking lot.
With the silence and post coital clarity setting in, you sit up straight and stare at the mess you made. You don’t need a mirror to know that you do not look presentable to customers at all.
Fortunately, it’s still early in the morning. You can rush home, clean yourself and your car up, and still have a whole day to earn money.
You just hope that you don’t have another potentially dangerous or salacious run-in again.
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starblightbindery · 3 months
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This is the bookbinding kit that I wish I had when I first started out. The goal was to put all of the hard-to-source supplies in one newbie starter kit--only the good stuff that we fanbinders actually use. (Also, I really, really wanted a storage pouch celebrating our hobby.) THE FANFIC BOOKBINDING STARTER PACK
So we've got:
Bone Folder
Awl
Hole Punching Guide
Bookbinding Needles
100% Linen Thread
Raw Beeswax
Linen or Ramie Tape
Mull
Pre-Made Endbands
Corner Miter
Resource Brochure
Fanfic Themed Pouch
Olfa Knife (optional, but so useful!)
I figure most people already have things like rulers and brushes at home, and other things like glue and boards are easier to source separately. I'm hoping this kit takes the stress out of finding all of the fiddly bits from people who are new to the hobby. (Seriously, why are Lineco products so expensive!!!)
I'm hoping to use this space to blog more about the kit as time goes by. It was several months in the making. Local fanfic binders in the SoCal area helped me figure out what to include and what to leave out. Their feedback on what to include in the resource brochure was invaluable.
I sourced materials from China, India, Poland, Lithuania, and even my local farmer's market. I taught myself 3D modeling to design the corner miter. I corresponded directly with linen and mull manufacturers. I learned a lot about bone folders. Fanbinding is an act of resistance, liberation, and celebration. We're creating codices and preserving what we love. I don't bind in the fandom that inspired v.2.0's theme, but I know a lot of my fellow binders do. It was important for me to put the progress pride flag and trans pride flag on the kit to stick it to you-know-who.
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Sadly, this retiree-turned-artist's home just outside of St. Louis, Missouri didn't sell and has been taken off the market. The asking price of $499K was reasonable for the area, but apparently buyers just weren't into his mosaic art. I really love it- check it out.
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Love the technique he did on the door- reminiscent of Pee Wee's Playhouse.
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He did the mosaic floors and also the paintings on the walls.
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I really like the design on the fire place and hearth. It has an art deco look.
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This is so nice. People are so dull, they probably would've bought it if it was white or gray.
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The owner, named Frank, was inspired by his favorite place, the Venice Cafe. The local haunt was known for its eclectic decor comprising statues, curios, and mosaic tiles.
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The kitchen is nice. Love the orange cabinets. At first, the house was put on the market for $534,900, and was eventually reduced to $499K.
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Off to the side of the kitchen what they call "The Rotunda."
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He did the same technique on the bedroom windows giving the illusion of irregular shapes.
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Frank's favorite room is the ocean themed bath. He thought that he would just die here, but at 73, he's living longer than he thought he would, so he & his wife have decided to downsize.
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This is cool- it's from his inspiration, The Venice Cafe's, FB page.
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I can see why he wanted his home to look this, it's amazing.
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I notice that they have pet turtles, too.
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No wonder he did his home like this, I'd never want to leave.
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Outside, it looks like an architectural salvage yard.
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Sure wish I could buy that house and live here.
https://www.businessinsider.com/quirky-missouri-mosaic-house-for-sale-venice-club-photos-2023-6
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tiny-pretty-sana · 2 months
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tzuyu gf | headcanons
warning: nsfw content (+18), minors dni, men dni
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sfw
tzuyu is the kind of person who makes you feel safe, gives you stability and keeps you grounded. she feels like home. however, she is much more than that, she is an adventurous and passionate person. she is home, but she is also the breath of fresh air that comes in through the window
she has a dual personality and regardless of how well you know her by now, she still surprises you
she is the shyest person you have ever known, but she is also the most shameless. 
when you first met her she was timid and quiet, but as she felt comfortable around you and opened up more she started showing her more playful and funny side
it didn't take you long to discover that she has a quick mind when it comes to giving sharp, unexpected, sarcastic and incredibly funny responses
she does it with her friends and on occasion with annoying strangers, and eventually she dared to do it with you as well
she has the ability to read the room and people very well. just by looking at your face she knows when you are happy, when you need space or when you need a hug 
this quality allows her to easily fit into all kinds of situations
when tzuyu wants she can go unnoticed the same way she draws all the attention whenever she wants. of course she knows exactly what she has to do to get your attention in a room full of people 
she has a bit of a tsundere side. she isn’t the biggest fan of pda, places her hand over your mouth when you come up to kiss her, likes to tease you and whines when you are clingy. 
secretly, she enjoys the attention and loves when you baby her. 
she prefers subtle displays of affection but when you are alone she’s more affectionate
she plans the best dates. she always comes up with some way to make the dates unique
for example, on your first date she took you to a dog cafe instead of a regular cafe
museums, markets, outdoor painting, picnics, pottery classes or a spa day are the kind of dates she usually organizes for special occasions. 
tzuyu’s love language is gift giving. if she sees something that reminds her of you she will just buy it. she also likes giving you things that will remind you of her on your relationships
you already share a few matching bracelets, necklaces, keychains and phone cases
she also loves bringing things that she bakes on special days and when she’s staying over, she never comes empty handed
she has a strange habit of talking to you like her dogs. the first time she did it you almost choked and she almost died of embarrassment, now you are used to it and find it adorable
be careful because she has 8 overprotective unnies who would do anything for tzuyu which you quickly understood since she’s easy to love and awakens the protective instinct of anyone
luckily, getting the love of her dogs was much easier and only took a couple of walks, a few treats and some belly rubs
tzuyu loves visiting new places whether it be traveling to other countries, taking you to her home country or a short trip to the beach or a more rural area
when you two travel she tries as much local food as possible and convinces you to try them as well. then she replicates the dishes she liked at home. lately she has improved a lot and she cooks better and better
she cooks your comfort food when you’re feeling down
she never cries but she is very sensitive when it comes to certain issues that are very important to her, that's why you freaked out when after your first time she cried. it turns out that she realized how much she loves you
nsfw
she is shy and seems innocent, but she is also open to experimenting and wants to try new things
she enjoys vanilla sex as much as she enjoys kinky sex, it depends on the mode you are in.
tzuyu was not the most experienced person and that's why you wanted to go slow but she was dying to get intimate with you
the first time you went made up you had to stop her and tell her to slow down because it was rushed and sloppy, not because of her inexperience, in fact she's a very good kisser, but because of how eager she was
when you kiss her unexpectedly or make a suggestive comment she literally freezes, so it was a surprise for both of you to discover that she leans more to the dominant side
she's a soft and gentle dom, a side she's starting to explore more with you
she loves kissing your face and body when you do it, caressing you and giving you little nibbles
she loves praising you. she uses more petnames during sex than she does in front of people, that's why if you hear her call you ‘princess’ or ‘baby’ in public you can't help but blush
tzuyu is one of the most caring people you know and it's something she shows in bed too
you’re above her shyness and you comfortable and safe, so she’s getting more vocal about asking if you like what she is doing or asking you to guide her when she needs it
she enjoys giving as well as receiving, so she’s quite comfortable being both top and bottom. 
she’s not very loud. when she’s bottoming she moans but has the habit of trying to cover her mouth with her hand or her pillow, when she tops she breathes deeply and sometimes you can hear her groans even if she tries to contain herself
she’s a good at kissing and using her mouth, she really enjoys eating you out but she’d rather be on the receiving end
she likes much more fingering you or using a strap, something she had never used before
the first time she put on the strap on she came out of the bathroom completely red and couldn't look you in the face until after a while
now it is something she enjoys very much and has bought a few different dildos so you can have more options
as someone who likes to give gifts, from time to time she gets spicy gifts for both of you like lingerie or a toy she’s curious to try
her other favorite positions are scissoring, 69 and tribbing. it allows her to give and receive pleasure from a dominant position, guiding you with her words and leading you with her movements
something that drives her crazy is making you touch yourself in front of her and guiding you while you do it
for someone who sometimes avoids physical touch she can sometimes be very needy when she really wants to make you feel good and be inside you
she’s curious about bondage. she thinks you would look beautiful tied up unable to move, being at her mercy
she also thinks you would look great with a collar around your neck.
during your vacations she likes doing it in the hotel room, always in the spot with the best view. it doesn't matter if it's the bed, the bathroom or the balcony. she likes to enjoy the view
lately you have tried degradation, spanks and other ways of inflicting light pain. it was a surprise to her how turned on she got from seeing her hands marked on your ass
just like she does with dates she gets creative with aftercare and is always looking for new ways to make you feel good that go beyond cuddles. although, she tries to play it down, she needs a lot of aftercare too, especially when you have tried degradation, bondage or anything that leaves marks on you for a few days
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inkwolvesandcoffee · 4 months
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First Times (Poly Relationship w/ John & Ghost Headcanons)
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I spent the morning exploring Hackney, which is rich in breweries. While wandering about, I got to thinking, what if…
John starts working at a brewery when he retires from the army?
OR!
He starts a micro brewery/pub with Simon, who retires around the same time.
🍺 The two men set to work immediately to acquire the proper licenses and a premise. Fortunately for the both of them, they’re quite handy and so know how to create a lovely, albeit very manly, space without too much interference from contractors. After all, why hire others for work you can do yourself?
🍺 Honestly, the business is a dream come true for John. Owning a micro brewery was his Plan B should things not work out with the army. However, it’s because of his former employment, he’s become a better business owner. It’s through the development of his leadership and risk-assessment skills he managed to secure the rank of captain.
🍺 For Simon, the brewery is an unexpected ambition, a new dream to follow. While he lets John do most of the marketing (because Simon can’t be arsed with social media… being social in general), he’s mostly pre-occupied with the creation of new and improvement of the already existing craft beers.
🍺 The business steadily grows as word gets about town. Soon, it’s not only the local Hackney residents who pop by, but also people from other boroughs.
🍺 Including you.
🍺 Come from Inner London, the people of the area find you somewhat of a posh puppy, a bit of a toff. It’s this view of you which makes them wonder what on Earth you’re doing in East London, this artsy and not as affluent part of the city.
🍺 Nevertheless, you’re a sight for sore eyes if you ask Simon, who’s your old neighbour back from the few years you lived in Manchester after moving there with your parents.
🍺 Though gruff and distant in the beginning, Simon gradually warmed up to you. Despite never opening up emotionally, you two did develop a strong amiable bond. Maybe because you were the only one to greet him on the street, to ask about his career after catching a glimpse of the dog tag around his neck, to welcome him back each time he was deployed.
🍺 To show sincere interest in him.
🍺 Your parents weren’t a fan of you socializing with the giant in the skull balaclava, but they never told you off for it since you two always seemed to have a good time. Moreover, they rarely saw you smile unless you were with him. So they let it slide, prioritizing your happiness over their prejudice.
🍺 It was only in the spring before you moved without telling him where to and he was deployed yet again, Simon realized he had feelings for you. Nonetheless, he put them aside or, rather, suppressed them until they numbed. He had nothing to offer, fifteen years your elder and terribly haunted.
🍺 So imagine his surprise and absolute delight when you stand in front of him, prettier than he can remember. “Been a while, hasn’t it?”
🍺 “Y/N,” it’s the only thing he can say, finally out loud after years of uttering it in silence.
🍺 “Who’s this fair lady?” John slides up next to Simon, arms crossed as he takes you in. His sea blue eyes darken when they meet yours. “How can we help, miss?”
🍺 The way he practically purrs the words sends a pleasant shiver down your spine. Yet, you conceal the effect he has on you behind a steady voice. “I saw the notice on the window, about the open position. Has it been filled in the meanwhile or can I still apply?”
🍺 “She’s a good one, John. Hardworking, trustworthy, kind. Fast learner too,” Simon says pensively.
🍺 “Got experience in the field?” John asks.
🍺 “Studied psychology, during which I mostly focused on the effect of marketing on the human psyche. Also run a food blog and Instagram”
🍺 “Thank Simon properly before you leave. I trust his judgment and seeing he knows you best, I’ll take his word for it.” He slaps his business partner on the shoulder. “Drop by tomorrow and we’ll discuss your contract. I’m looking forward to working with you…”
🍺 “Y/N.”
🍺 “Y/N...” John repeats thoughtfully. Then he hums and heads off.
🍺 Thus begins a series of firsts and connections as you settle down in Hackney.
🍺 Over the course of a few weeks, the locals come to see you as one of their own as you show them you simply aren’t some girl with rich parents, a spoiled princess, but a young woman trying to make a life for herself with her own hard-earned money via helping at the counter and striking up conversations.
🍺 John and you grow closer too. He admires and respects your eye for detail and aesthetics, though sometimes he feels a little awkward when you’re trying to direct him for the occasional TikTok. Nevertheless, it’s your creativity that keeps drawing him in, igniting the need to keep getting closer to you. What also helps is you bringing him coffee or reminding him to take breaks (both with a kiss on the cheek later down the line).
🍺 Loves to review the content you create together, especially when you’re in his lap while doing so.
🍺 On your mutual days off, John drags you all over London to visit bakeries and cafés. Never had you thought him a foodie, though it’s a pleasant discovery since there’s always something new to experience on the food scene. Moreover, he loves helping you out with your own blog, not just the one you created for the brewery.
🍺 These days, you’re teaching him photography and are taking baking classes together. Although, you might as well go on your own to the latter because he’s a terrible baker (unlike Simon, who’s self-taught and surprisingly good, like, sale-appropriate why-doesn’t-he-have-at-least-a-micro-bakery good).
🍺 Your bond with Simon mostly rekindles via being his guinea pig. He knows how brutally honest you can be in your feedback, which he thoroughly appreciates. Outside work, the two of you frequent bookshops, have picnics in the major parks in London, and visit the city’s oldest cemeteries. The latter is a bit of a morbid idea of a nice outing, but you appreciate the silence and romantic sense of decay in the air.
🍺 It isn’t long before you take up residence in the apartment the two men share, which leaves the other residents of the building wondering about your relationships to one another. Although, they can guess at the nature of it seeing the “noise” at night. As I said, lots of first including a relationship with two men older than you.
🍺 But aside from the plethora of sensual moments, there are also plenty of tender (and domestic) firsts. For example, Simon accompanies you to your first tattoo appointment. When, the next day, you’re struck by tattoo flu, he takes care of you. Of course John doesn’t force you to come to work nor Simon for that matter, who you clearly need at the moment (despite claiming otherwise). Henceforth, you’re both granted PTO until you’re back on your feet.
🍺 Speaking of the former-captain, John is your very first kiss. You and him went out for pizza (Simon preferring to stay home and read). On the way to Hackney Wick, beneath a bridge heavily decorated with graffiti and sheltering a few barges, he put his hands on your cheeks and crashed his lips into yours. He tasted of tobacco and white wine, laced with the sweetness of tomatoes and basil. That night, he made love to you.
🍺 Another first.
🍺 Simon prepared breakfast the next morning, serving food to ensure John and you wouldn’t succumb to exhaustion later in the day. Nor him, for that matter, because while he doesn’t get jealous and loves sharing you with his best friend, he sometimes wishes you wouldn’t go at it till early in the morning when the next day is an ordinary work day.
🍺 You’re there for them when either of them suffers from night terrors or combat stress. Simon is more prone to the former, whereas John is to the latter.
🍺 You accompany Simon to therapy too after he’s been diagnosed with PTSD. At first he didn’t want to go, refused it even, until he finally relented after another episode of flashbacks and coming to his senses while shaking in your arms.
🍺 Life with John and Simon isn’t always easy nor romantic.
🍺 But bloody hell, do they make it better.
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swingsetindecember · 9 months
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quebec's language laws have protected quebec in a weird way from late stage capitalism. by no means to idealize quebec, i just don't see it wildly talked about how a language barrier has stalled capitalism.
i am sure there are socio-economic papers written on this. like because you need to have french contracts, terms of service and signage, a lot of american companies and global conglomerates don't go to quebec. like a lot of businesses just don't exist in quebec compared to the rest of canada. like franchise restaurants. quebec has a lot less franchise restaurants. oh there are a couple but they are like very specific to quebec and also just in the more metropolitan areas. usually in suburbs you don't have a lot of franchise restaurants.
this is also sweepstakes. because in quebec a mail in entry is required for any sweepstakes. you don't have to buy the product. also a lot of brands need to have their labels in french so a lot of products just don't get to quebec market
also a lot of the population wants to be serviced in french so they prefer quebec companies. this is why there are quebec specific internet and telephone companies. bootlegging is wild popular because there was usually a lag before you could get english content because they needed to make the french dub.
its also why movie rental stores stayed open for a long time in quebec because they catered to french language dubbed movies. like blockbuster did come to quebec but it didn't have the same chokehold on the market. like i rarely went to blockbuster growing up, there were 3 local video rental places that had more titles than blockbuster because the blockbuster business model didn't appeal to quebec residents. especially if you wanted to rent french versions of video games.
anyway, just interesting to think about
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rthko · 4 months
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Hey so here's a conversation you might or might not be interested in having but if you'd like to, it's been my understanding that you participate in the time honoured tradion of cruising (TM), so I was curious about how/why you first started engaging with that? Was it an intentional choice? Are there still live spots around where you live? Natural continuation from the grindr life? Feels like it isn't really a natural part of gay life for a lot of people these days and more of an active choice.
I do like having conversations like this! Now I do cruise, but not in the ways that first come to mind with the term "cruising." My experience is limited to bathhouses, bars, and parties with play spaces, but I haven't done it in, say, a park or a highway rest stop. Cruising refers to looking for sex in places known for the practice. Said sex does not have to occur there, so finding someone at a cruising spot and going to a second location is cruising, but a couple arranging to have sex in a park is not. There are definitely gray areas--is Grindr cruising, or is it an existential threat to the culture? What's the line between a plain old bar hookup and cruising? Is going to a cruising spot only to have sex with people you already knew cruising? Maybe someone reading this knows better than I do.
Knowing spots is and always has been a matter of word of mouth, but sites like squirt . org and Sniffies have made it a lot easier. People looking to cruise might look at these sites, or look for advice for their city in forums, or just know the right people who know their way around the "pickle parks." The spots I've been to are the easiest to find--obviously people are going to be having sex at a bathhouse. But there are other options--informal, discrete spots that don't (or can't) require an entry fee. You'd be surprised just how many there are, and not just in the cities you'd suspect. I just don't know much about this world, aside from the "official" brick and mortar spots.
I started going first out of curiosity, but then I kept finding more and more reasons. It wasn't a natural continuation from Grindr life but rather a reaction against it. I was sick of Grindr. I wanted to work on people skills, like dishing out and taking rejection respectfully, and without the ego-preserving move of a block button. I had a roommate and felt awkward inviting people over. I didn't have a car and had a hard time even getting to other people's places, and by the time I got there I'd lost my sexual appetite. I found being naked or in a towel in a space full of equally naked people helped me be at ease with my body. The men I had sex with couldn't find and contact me after the fact unless I deliberately gave them contact information. I felt more freedom to say no or change my mind in a place full of sexual possibilities than I would at someone else's apartment. I found a lot of reasons beyond finding voyeurism and exhibitionism hot--which I do.
I have learned not to focus too hard on the why. A lot of different types do it for a lot of different reasons, and that's part of the appeal for me. There are closeted and experimenting men, out and proud gays who view the baths as part of their identity, disrobed white collar professionals visiting my city for a conference, locals who can't host, and nobody's really asking who's who. This is the sort of contact that Samuel R Delany wrote about, overcoming the guiding rule of cities that we "don't talk to strangers." Michael Warner also has great writing on cruising and public sex, and challenges the idea that gay victory will look like normalcy and the end of cruising. Cruising is not as popular as it used to be, and I think it's important to acknowledge a lot of this comes down to policy and not a change in the gay conscience. Ironically, the very gentrification that scrubs away these spaces has made them necessarily through a tightening housing market where fewer people can host. I would not be surprised if I heard it confirmed that more gays lately are choosing to cruise--or already are and don't realize it. At the risk of over-simplified sentimentality, I'd be glad to hear it.
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thought--bubble · 4 months
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The Monster in Your Fairytale
Old South AU Aemond X (Southern Belle Reader)
Warnings after the cut
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Modern Aemond Masterlist
Full Masterlist
Banners by @arcielee
A/N: I'm grouping this with Modern Aemond because i don't want to create anymore masterlists and it isn't canon Aemond haha.
Warnings:: manipulation, dubcon, Breeding kink, smut, virginity loss, attempt at baby trapping.
Aemond Targaryen was sought after in your small rural town. The only single man left of the Targaryens other than his young brother Daeron, who was too young to marry.
The Targaryens were the most well-off family in the area. They came from old money. Their sprawling mansion and vast acreage of land showcased their wealth.
Aemond, being a young Batchelor who stood to inherit a third of his fathers wealth, was viewed as a great prize for many of the young, unmarried woman in your small town. The accident he suffered as a child leaving him with only one eye did nothing to dampen the flames of his popularity. After all, out here money was king.
Yet somehow, even with a plethora of young unmarried women swirling around him. That one beautiful eye set its sights on you
You were your fathers pride and joy. His sunshine he called you. You weren't the smartest girl around, but gosh, were you sweet. If anyone were to ask around, your small rural community, they would say your giggle was contagious and your smile even more so.
Your innocence and your trusting nature are exactly what reeled him in. What a pretty little silly wife you would make him. He imagined you popping out, baby, after silver haired baby laughing and giggling, never a care in the world, and in him, it awoke a hunger, a gnawing need to have you.
So Aemond decided he would do this the right way. Get to know you and make you fall in love with him. Who wouldn't fall in love with him? Every single girl in town wanted him, why wouldn't you?
So he approached you at the local farmers market. A place he would usually never be. The Targaryens had house servants for that kind of thing. Yet he came knowing you would be there, selling your father's wares. A bright smile on your face and that perfectly plump bosom pressing tightly against the fabric of your cheaply made dress.
He looked sharp. A nice pair of trousers with a fitted top, the two highest buttons left open.
"Give her something to gawk at," he thinks to himself as he fixes his shirt. He spots you at your usual table, pointing at various fruits and vegetables, trying to make a sale. Not that making a sale was difficult for you. You could sell someone air with just a smile and a suggestion.
He walks up to your fruit stand cockily, quickly snatching an apple from one of the baskets and tossing it in the air.
"Macintosh. Best you'll find for a long ways" You smile at him with that perfect little smile, your eyes wrinkling around the corners.
"Hmmmm." He gently places the apple back in the basket. "I'm looking for..... something sweeter"
"Oh! Well, we have strawberries! Those are mighty sweet. " You lower your voice to a near whisper." I could even let ya try one if you promise not to tell Daddy." You wink at him and hold up the smallest of strawberries in your delicate hand.
Aemond can feel a stirring in his pants he tries very hard to ignore. "Love to" instead of taking the strawberry from you, he leans forward and bites into it while it is snuggled in tight between your fingers. His lips graze your fingertips, and then you do it. You giggle. That addicting giggle.
What went from a gentle stirring in his trousers had now evolved into a throbbing as he wiped the juices from the strawberry off his chin.
You lean forward towards him. "juicey nough for ya?"
"Hmmmm" Aemond chuckles. "Always like the ones that gush"
"Then perfect! How much do you wanna buy?" You take out one of your tiny baskets ready to fill it with strawberries.
"Fill the basket," he says nonchalantly.
"Oh! That's an awful lot of strawberries, sir. That could get quite pricey. " You giggle again, causing the throbbing in his trousers to intensify.
He smiles at you and laughs while shaking his head, "As if she doesn't know who I am," he thinks to himself.
You fill the basket completely. Pride swells in your chest, knowing you just sold a good chunk of the strawberries you had brought to market, your daddy will be so proud, and the money will help.
You hand him his basket of strawberries and give him your best smile.
"A pretty girl like you should be married at this age..... yet from what I understand you are not." Aemond muses biting into another strawberry.
"Oh, Daddy has turned down all suitors. Doesn't think I'm ready." You blush slightly in embarrassment. Your father loved you. So much in fact that he was afraid that with your simple and caring persona, you would be easily controlled and abused. A thought that terrified him.
Hearing that your father has turned down, all suitors thus far does not deter Aemond in the slightest. He is a Targaryen. Your father would beg for him to court you sooner than he would turn him down.
So the next morning, he does what any good gentleman should do and goes to your father requesting permission to court you and is absolutely shocked when your father declines.
"My sunshine is a special girl," he had said. " She isn't ready for that kind of thing, but I am flattered by your interest"
Aemond leaves the small farmhouse baffled but ultimately decides that your father will not stop him from having what he wants. You are indeed a special girl and you will be his special girl whatever the cost.
So, he returns to the farmers market every week. Sometimes with flowers, other times a small gift, a necklace, a bracelet every time trying to interest you in joining him for a walk.
Each time, you turn him down.
"Daddy wouldn't like that." Your sweet voice invades his senses, but after six weeks of being denied, Aemond has decided he will no longer take no for answer, so he presses on.
"Your father doesn't need to know sweetness. I will not be untoward. I only wish to know you more. All the town talks of your sweet smile, but what of what's behind that smile? That is what I wish to know. " Aemond gives you his best look of caring and gentleness. "I will not lie. My feelings have been hurt by this constant declination of simple friendship"
Aemond has gotten to know you so well. You are sweet to a fault, and the only way he can get you to go against your father's wishes is to make you believe that you are being cruel.
"Oh! I'm so sorry, Aemond! I'm not trying to hurt you! Of course I'm not. " Your eyes are glassy as you look at him with sympathy.
"Got her," he thinks to himself.
"I guess one simple friendly walk won't hurt."
So after you pack up your wares for the day, he takes you on a walk. He asks you questions while he pretends to listen to the answers, the buzzing inside his head, making it hard to concentrate.
The walk is exactly as he described it. A friendly walk where you chat and enjoy the scenery, and every week that walk gets just a bit longer and a bit deeper into the woods.
You become more and more comfortable with the man you now consider to be one of your closest friends, and on a warm summer evening, he walks you into the woods the furthest he has walked you yet.
When the two of you stumble upon a meadow, he feigns surprise.
"Well, isn't this beautiful?" He looks down at you, watching you look around the meadow in wide-eyed wonder.
"Oh, Aemond, It's beautiful!" You happily exclaim, throwing your arms around him excitedly.
"Come." He takes your hand and leads you out into the tall grass of the meadow before he drops down to lay in the grass.
You watch him laying for a minute quizzically. "Aemond! What are you doing? You will get your clothes all dirty!" You reach for his hand to yank him up, but instead, he yanks you down on top of him.
"The view is so pretty from here." He looks up at you, pushing a strand of hair behind your ear.
"Oh gosh, I'm squishing you!" You attempt to get up, but Aemond sits up quickly, pulling you completely in his lap, your thighs on either side of his hips.
"A little thing like you? Squishing me? Preposterous. " He nuzzles his nose into your chin, eliciting a giggle.
"You're not so big yourself." You grip his waist and squeeze to accentuate your case.
"You'd be surprised, sweetness." He places gentle kisses along your jaw. "At how big I can get," He wraps his arms around your back, pulling your chest flush to his.
"Oh, Aemond......" Your voice is unsteady. "I don't think Daddy would like this"
"He doesn't need to know.." He trails kisses down your neck."Besides, every once in a while, you should do something you like. No matter what others think"
He watches your face contort in thought as you think over his words. His patience growing thinner and thinner. He grips your hips, gently grinding your heat on his lap.
"Indulge me," He whispers, "For just a little while"
You feel a build-up of heat curling up in your lower stomach and find it hard to say no to that eye that looks at you pleading.
"Just a little while longer, sweetness," Aemond pants heavily into the crevice of your neck.
Your hips start to grind against him, putting more pressure on that sweet nerve between your legs.
"Such a bad girl for me," Aemond growls as he nips at your bottom lip, gently pulling at it.
"I'm still a good girl, aren't i?" You worriedly ask. It's so important to you that you are a good girl.
"Mmmm.. yes, of course. " Aemond huffs between labored breathes. He leans back from you slightly to unbutton his trousers.
"Aemond?" You watch as his hands move beneath you, making quick work of the fabric as he pulls his hardened cock out and into his hand.
"Shhhh sweetness." He pumps himself with one hand as he cups your cheek in the other. "I've got you, I'll take care of you"
Aemond pushes up your dress and pushes open the split between your drawers, his breathing getting heavier with each touch. He runs his hand along your slick folds and smiles.
"You're all ready for me, sweetness." He gently bites at your chin, and a rush of warmth swirls in your stomach as he brings his finger to rub at your pearl in quick circles.
"A-Aemond!" You feel completely overwhelmed as that warmth in your stomach seems to be building, Your jaw is slack, and your breathing is forced.
"I've got you. Shhhhh... I've got you, " Aemond whispers to you as he continues to rub on your nub. As the pressure in your stomach continues to build, you can feel Aemonds' other hand on your hip, pushing you down as you feel immense pressure.
"Ah, Aemond!" You squeal the feeling of being split open is intense, and you now know what is happening.
"It's ok, sweetness, it's ok." He continues to rub your nub with his thumb as he pushes you further and further down his shaft.
"Fuck..." Aemond groans and closes his eye. "Oh sweetness, you're so perfect"
"Ahh, ahh." You hiss, the stretching is erotic and uncomfortable at the same time. A fullness that feels good and a stinging that hurts.
"Just a little further... Oh yes, " He groans loudly as your ass is flush against his thighs. "There you are." He pulls your face down towards him and kisses you with a passion you had only read about in stories.
you kiss him back while intermittently panting into his mouth. This sensation, this mix of pain and pleasure, was like nothing you had ever experienced.
He grasps at your hips and guides you to grind against his lap.
"See? You're still a good girl." He pants,"My good girl"
"Your good girl, Your good girl." You chant like a prayer as his movements intensify.
Aemond buries his face in your chest as he maneuvers you on his lap. Like a rag doll he fucks into you taking what he has long desired.
"Cum for me pretty girl" He begs as he grinds you against him faster his thighs shaking with the intensity.
You moan and pant loudly that feeling in your bottom stomach rising like it is going to spill over and when it does and your eyes roll back into your head Aemond loses all control.
He tightly squeezes your hips, bringing you down upon him with force. "Gonna fill you up." He grunts."Make you mine, " he slams you down harder and tilts his head back. "I want you full of me." He loudly makes a noise somewhere between a moan and a whimper.
"Ask me for it," he demands
Your brain is so foggy from your orgasm and the momentum of his thrusts that you stare at him blankly.
"Ask me to fill you." He grunts, and his face contorts. He looks almost like he is in pain. "Please, sweetness,"
"Oh please fill me Aemond Please" You coo.
He pulls you down roughly twice more before spilling into you with a loud groan, laying his back down on the grass as he slowly continues to push himself into you, riding out his orgasm.
Aemond lays back with a smile on his face. Your father would have no choice but to marry you to him now. The shame of being an unwed mother in a town like this would be unbearable, and if somehow he didn't get you pregnant this time?
Well, there was always next time.
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meowmeowmeowmeow4x · 2 months
Text
Dark Blue Moon and the Suffering Sun Chapter 14
hope u all enjoy <3 comment and reblog it really means a lot :>
MASTAPOST
The smell of Atlantean was getting stronger, Danny kept himself and Damian invisible as they perched atop a cliff looking down at the town. He could hear Damian licking his lips. Kid, you literally just ate! Was he thirsting for vegetables or blood?
“Excellent. With your camouflage, we will be able to infiltrate and extract the resources without any trouble.”
Danny waved his hands to cut off that notion. “Hold up. Who says ‘we’ are going to raid the Atlanteans? Why shouldn’t I just leave you here and come back and we can be on our way?”
Damian frowned, fins rattling in offense. “May I remind you who has more experience in this field?”
“True, but your dad might skin me if he found out that I let you become a glorified sea pirate.”
Damian tutted. “What father doesn’t know will not hurt him. Now go! We are wasting time!”
With that, Damian attached himself to Danny’s hip, practically hooking his claws into Danny’s scales. The bloodthirsty theory was beginning to gain traction in Danny’s mind, what with how the kid was audibly purring despite Danny not giving any touches at that moment.
Danny let his invisibility wash over his scales, turning his body from translucent to being one with the water, his powers seeping into Damian’s body and hiding him from view too. Hopefully Aquaman wouldn’t be too upset with them.
The boys approached the Atlantean town from above. Danny’s lateral line pinged dozens olf times. Civilians wandered the streets, peddling wares and chatting about the day. On the far side, trainees tossed javelins and practiced archery while an instructor yelled commands at them.
“There.” Damian whispered. The boy tugged on Danny’s fins, and Danny followed the direction to where the market was. “I believe I spotted a cartographer in the crowd. We should be able to obtain our prize from him.”
As Danny descended and swam just over head of the Atlanteans, his ear fins prickled. Chatter in Atlantean filled the water, none of which Danny could parse out. Hell, even his Pacific Siren was pretty choppy, a fact that Sam endlessly teased him about. Ocean languages were tricky! It wasn’t his fault!
Whatever, point is, Danny spotted the guy. Thin, stocky, wearing a dark blue overcoat and tunic, fit with undersea glasses, carrying rolled up paper underarm. The man shuffled into a small corner shop on the street, a good distance away from the bigger crowd in the market. Danny crept up behind him, careful not to bump into any one.
The shop was nothing impressive, just a humble joint probably frequented by travelers or whatever. Maps of the world decorated the walls, accompanied by globes atop display cases that contained even more charts of the local area. The owner kept his back to them as he bent over a bench and filed away his new acquisitions.
“Now, while his back is turned.” Damian whispered.
Danny swam into the shop through the doorway, careful not to make a single sound. The shopkeeper hummed. Danny compressed his hand through the tiny slit of the display case. He reformed it to its proper size on the inside. He grabbed the closest map and spread his invisibility to it, before pulling it out.
The shopkeeper turned around. Danny’s gills stilled. The man stared at the spot where the map had just been, eyes quirked up. He was none the wiser as Danny turned tail, and exited the shop in swift fashion.
Once out of earshot, Danny let himself relax a little. “Welp, time to get outta here then.”
Damian poked him in the side (thankfully below the gills; that would hurt) and chittered. “Negative.”
“What do you mean negative? We got exactly what you wanted?”
“Not yet. Look.”
“You know you’re still invisible, right? I can’t see what you’re pointing at.”
“The seahorses!”
Danny’s face blanched. “You wanna eat the seahorses??”
He felt a whack on his sail. “No, you buffoon. I would like to pet them.”
This kid’s priorities. “If you haven’t noticed, we’re kind of in enemy territory here.”
“I am aware, but I have never pet a seahorse before, and I may not get another opportunity like this again.”
Danny’s jaw gaped open. “If you haven’t noticed, there’s an entire ocean ahead of us.”
“Don’t condescend to me. The seahorses are in our vicinity, and there is no guarantee we will come across another school on our journey. Therefore, we go to them now.”
In all honesty, he should’ve expected the kid to be distracted by his love of animals. Hell, Danny could even relate with his own obsession with astronomy.
“Fiiiiine. But I have a bad feeling about this.”
And so Danny flipped fins and brought Damian to the seahorses, as requested. The little things were floating around a coral reef within the town borders, surrounded by a fence. Architectural features like these always reminded him of Dora’s rants about how Atlanteans were essentially humans, and he could see why. What was the point of a fence when everyone and their mother could just swim over it?
Case in point: Danny right now.
Danny lay down on his belly in the sand, keeping a hand on Damian’s shoulder to keep the invisibility flowing. The sea horses swarmed over him, poking curiously at his fins, sensing the disturbance but not seeing it. One particularly brave seahorse even brushed its tail along his gills. Danny had to bite his lip to avoid gasping or giggling from the ticklish sensation. Damian didn’t say anything, but he seemed to be having the time of his life, with how the seahorses’ manes creased from the kid’s touch.
If Danny flexed his ear fins, he could even pick up the slightest cooing sound from the kid. If he could see the younger guppy’s face, he bet it would be split in a huge grin. Then again, Damian didn’t seem the type to express positive emotion so openly like that, but who knows? Maybe the invisibility’s lowering his inhibitions?
A foot brushed his dorsal fin. Danny gasped from the sudden rough touch on his sensitive fin. Dammit!
Maybe he was the one who should’ve remembered they were in enemy territory.
A child gasped, mouth gaped open as she stared at where his tailfin was. Danny pulled Damian back, getting ready to take off. Yeah this was the part where they got the hell out of dodge.
Only for the girl to lean down and poke him. Right in the gills. Ow.
Danny yelped in shock. His body snapped back into the visible spectrum as the little girl went saucer eyed. Outside the fence, an Atlantean woman stood stunned as she blinked owlishly at them.
He chuckled. “Well, thanks for letting us pet your seahorses, but we really gotta go, so see ya-”
“SIIREEEENNNNNNS!!!!!”
Well fuck.
Sam slammed her fist against the punching bag. Every yell brought forth primal rage, and righteous anger. In her mind’s eye, Vlad’s face ate every punch and crunched with every kick. Skulker’s smug mug got caved in. And most of all, Danny’s fucking parents. Her fucking parents.
Didn’t take Superman to hear them screaming upstairs. Hurling accusations, badmouthing Danny for the six hundred and fiftieth time. “Oh how could he lead our precious Sammykins astray like this?” As if they didn’t do that already!
And now she was grounded. Put on house arrest, even. Tucker shared a similar fate. That just left Jazz to monitor the situation. Luckily, Tuck prepared secret burner phones for them for this exact scenario.
Being grounded also meant they couldn’t search for Danny again. In all likelihood he had probably skipped town. Tucker’s forays into the GiW’s servers showed they were still on the lookout, so that was something to be relieved by. If only she and Tuck actually knew what was going on!
She growled and then transitioned into another scream. How the hell did the Fentons even know where to look for them!?
The anger melted away into anxiety. The conversation replayed in her mind. Half the time she wasn’t even sure what she was saying. That was so close. One slip-up and she would’ve landed Danny on the dissection table, not that the result they got was much better. Danny still had a target on his back, and no one could be blamed for it but her. Six months ago while they were just teenagers in over their heads, the idea of caped heroes coming in to save their asses seemed like a dream.
But now? Bruce Wayne funded the Justice League. The fucking Justice. League. It was like Paulina getting a poor girl who bumped into her suspended because of her dad’s wealth. Only replace the poor girl getting suspended with Danny being turned into scientific sushi by the Goons in White, or even worse: his parents.
Oh, and she pissed him off even more. Sam banged her head against the punching back.
Danny was strong. She was strong. Tucker was strong. They had faith in each other. But as yesterday’s hack proved, there were far, far bigger fish in the ocean. And she would destroy anyone who heard her admit it, but part of her was terrified.
Sam retreated to her room, not even sparing her arguing parents a glance. Once in the safety of her private sanctuary, she retrieved her spell book, and began to research anew. She needed to be in tip-top shape to help Danny and Damian Wayne get home. They were going to contact her and Tucker any day now, and she needed to be ready for it.
Please be ok, Danny.
Maddie finished the last of the software updates to the Fenton Sonars, resetting them and reversing the damage Tucker had done. What were they thinking?! Aiding and abetting some of the most dangerous creatures on the planet. All those PSAs and lectures she knew he had sat in on with Danny and the takeaway he had was to play superhero with a savage beast?!
The sonars pinged. Just as she suspected. No sign of Phantom near Amity. The GiW hadn’t found crap in however many hours of search in the surrounding waters, so the bastard probably fled with his tail between his… tail. Maddie scoffed. Some hero.
But that was perfectly fine by her, because she had Phantom’s hydroplasmic signature.
Switching programs, she accessed the Fenton Satellite’s computer programming. One key stroke later, and Phantom’s signature beamed up to the Fenton Satellite. Maddie grinned darkly.
“You finished over there, Maddie?” Jack asked. Glow torch sparks lit up behind her and cast the lab in stark shadow.
“Yes sweetie, now all that we need left is the hardware.”
On the workbench, Jack carefully welded their newest creation. She took up the spot beside him, and began slotting components in as they transitioned to working in perfect harmony together. Jack glanced at her, and she passed over the wrench. A nano-battery array here. A forty-inch radar dish there. A custom Fenton piston set over there. With two children on the line, they worked round the clock. They tested their new inventions rigorously, then broke them down to rebuild them better.
Phantom won’t know what hit him.
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