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#memory recovery
misscloudiedays · 11 months
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creature-wizard · 6 months
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my dad + aunt were hypnotized as young kids during the satantic panic + given false memories. they have been traumatized by that woman who basically tortured them until they "remembered" horrible abuse. they have been affected, even now in their 40s and 50s. the way they interact with the world is with distance and speculation, and they feel like outside onlookers and observers most of the time. they feel like ghosts.
anyway, this is to say, yeah: run far, far, away from anybody who claims they can help you "remember" things, whether part of this life or a past one.
Yep. Hypnosis is absolute shit for memory recovery, and trying to "remember" abuse or trauma that never actually happened to you will very likely give you trauma because the false memories you end up fabricating are registered as real events by your brain. Just don't fuck with it.
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abyssalaerlocke · 3 months
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Sharran Durge
Just thinking about Durge bereaving people, becoming a cleric of Shar — goddess of loss. What if Shar held onto their missing memories (maybe to remove their attachment to Bhaal, Bane Gortash, otherwise make them more loyal to her)?
i just want their history with Gortash to be recoverable 😫
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elliott-rambles · 1 year
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You ever have a trauma memory, or even any memory, resurface out of nowhere due to an unknown trigger and it feels like you been slapped? Cuz uhhh yeah... been happening too much lately
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orchidscript · 2 years
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Felidae Familiaris (Henry)
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Been working really hard on the second installment of Henry’s story, and I wanted to share a bit of dialogue that I’ve been grinding through. It’s a conversation between Henry and Carter. No prose, only dialogue, which is strange for me, and I’m not giving you anymore than that to go on! Enjoy!
The scientific name for house cat that is the title makes sense, I promise. Just hang with me and my lame attempts at being clever.
warnings | bbu, memory loss, memory recovery, angst, discussion of sobriety.
~*~*~
“You’ve been… focused lately, on what truth means for you. If someone is being honest with you, if you can believe a story you can’t remember… if someone can be a liar if they believed wholeheartedly something that turned out to be wrong/untrue. You’re still there, I think. In a different way.”
“Sounds about right...”
“You’re doing well with it.”
“I’m not. I feel like a goldfish in a plastic bag. I’m stuck in my own fucking head... everyone’s just been really kind. I don’t remember much, but. But my gut trusts them.”
“Like I said. You’re doing really well with it all.”
“You’re all waiting for me to snap aren’t you?”
“Waiting for it, expecting it, preparing for it when it does happen however it does. It’s all the same to us. We’re just happy you’re awake.”
“...I’m sorry.”
“For what?”
“I. I feel like I’ve been a lot to handle.”
“Maybe. But I wouldn’t have done it if I didn’t think you deserved the time and space. It’s been a lot to come to terms with. You’re in school. You needed to do some thinking. I can’t tell you I love you and not give you that.”
“Not for nothing, but... You said we broke up. A few years ago. Because of me.”
“We did. That… that was different, Hen- Aiden.”
“It doesn’t sound all that different.”
“It was. Really. We were immature, first thing. Second thing. You were struggling and hurting, and I didn’t have it in me to understand the way you needed me to. I tried to help in all the wrong ways and ended up hurting the both of us when it was too much. You didn’t want help until you realized just how far gone you were.”
“No one’s told me what was wrong with me.”
“It’s not something we — or you — like to revisit.”
“Tell me?”
“Hen-, Aiden, I shouldn’t-.”
“You don’t know how to call me anything else, do you?”
“You’ve only ever been…”
“Been what?”
“You’ve only ever been Henry to me. I’ve never known you any other way.”
“Just Henry?”
“Just Henry… Henry, Hen, H. Haz once, but it you hated it and laughed. Fritz, Fitz, Fitzy, honey, baby, babe… Gorgeous, sexy… Mine… Yours… Sorry. I’m so sorry.”
“It’s alright. You’re… you really love Henry, don’t you?”
“Yeah. Yeah. I love you.”
“I’m not Henry.”
“Not by name, no. But… I wish you remembered this, but I’ll say it again for you. Whoever you are, whatever you call yourself, whatever you end up doing, I love you. And… Aiden, I’m alright if you don’t love me back.”
“Are you really?”
“Not really, but I’m better at understanding someone where they’re at than I used to be. Because of you.”
“What did I do, Carter?”
“You… you were coping, by drinking. You hid it well. None of us knew. You were basically functioning until you, you suddenly weren’t. I, I bought you a lot of what you had hidden in your bedroom, and the guilt about killed me. I didn’t know what I’d been doing. You started therapy, you were getting better…”
“But?”
“You gave up. You quit going and didn’t tell anyone. Then, then you got me to take you to a party, at school, and you were drunk… And I couldn’t do it anymore…”
“You broke up with me.”
“Yeah.”
“Am. Am I better now?”
“You are. You’ve been sober for… four years. You’re doing really, really well.”
“But I don’t remember any of that… Is that why I’m not going home with you?”
“Yeah. June and Caleb, they know your warning signs and how to look for them better than I do. They don’t want the stress of this to send you back to that mental place.”
“Makes sense.”
“They should have told you that.”
“They’re doing their best… You can’t take care of me that way, I take it?”
“I know my limits. But I’m not pushing you off. I’m going to be there, I’m going to help. I’ll bring over photos, your clothes, Pixie if I can get her in the cat carrier. She misses you. You have some journals, in your desk, that you wrote during all of it. You still keep one, but I don’t know where that is. I’ll try to find them all. I’ve never read them, don’t worry, but. It might give you an idea on what you’ve been through.”
“I have a cat?”
“Yeah, Pixie. She’s an absolute menace, just like you. You feed her turkey bacon and act like you don’t know why she starts yelling when you turn the stove top on.”
“Wait… is she fluffy? And white-ish?”
“Mhmm.”
“Blue eyes?”
“Yup.”
“I remember that. Her. I remember my cat, but… but didn’t know she was my cat.”
“She’s deaf too. That’s harder to remember.”
“Do I… Do I knock on the floor to get her attention?”
“You remember that too?”
“Yeah.”
~*~*~
tags | @neuro-whump @burtlederp @hackles-up @deluxewhump @whumpingupastorm @peppers-and-peaches @justanothermaltesegirl @whumptywhumpdump @whumphours @whump-only @thatsthewhump​ @boxboysandotherwhump​ @pebbledriscoll​ @kixngiggles​ @rosesareviolentlyread​ @keeper-of-all-the-random-things​
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thebibliosphere · 4 months
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There are a lot of things I'm sad about in my life. You don't get to go through the kind of medical trauma I've been through and come out unscathed on the other side.
But one thing I'm really bitter about is that I can't remember my wedding anymore. The pernicious anemia took it from me and wiped my brain clean. Except it's not clean, not really. I remember it in patches. Like red wine stains on a white rug that have never quite lifted out no matter how hard you try.
I look at the pictures on my bookcase, and they feel like remembering a story someone else has told me. There's a young woman in a white dress wearing my face, and she looks happy. I'm happy for her. But you can see the strain around her eyes, too. The pain she's hiding because no one with authority believes her when she says her body doesn't feel right. That something is Wrong.
They won't believe her for another decade. They won't believe her until it's almost too late, and it's that lateness that will rob her of her memories and turn them into a wavering rainbow suspended in the fine haze of watery sunlight that occasionally surfaces through the blanks.
There's one memory that's real, though. Solid. It's not my vows. It's not my father walking me down the aisle. (Though those are there, just hazy and dream-like). It's our first dance.
It's the lights dimming around the room as the staff cleared the floor, causing the fishbowls full of white roses and LED lights on the tables to wobble like pools of moonlight against dark paneled walls.
It's the band inviting us out onto the floor and us giggling because we know what's coming next, and no one else does. It's the twang of a banjo reverberating around the room through the speakers, followed by the dulcet tones of Kermit the Frog wondering why there are so many songs about rainbows.
It's us waltzing around the enclosed circle of light, singing to each other out of tune and grinning like idiots as everyone around us starts to laugh.
It's everyone joining in on the song because it's the Muppets, and everyone knows the words. It's 100+ people singing the Rainbow Connection, some laughing, some a bit tearful, because it's bringing back memories. Because it's making a new one.
It's looking up at my new husband through the brain fog and all the pain in my body and thinking, "I want to remember this moment forever."
I don't know what entity was out there listening to me at that moment and chose to grant that wish. I don't know why this is the one memory that stuck while everything else in my brain got decimated into scattered, fragmented snapshots. But I'm so, so thankful it is.
Though, I could have done without it randomly coming on my YouTube music out of nowhere to hit me in the emotions like a brick to the back of the head. Jesus Christ.
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kanofspam · 7 months
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SOMEONE GET ME OUT OF HERE
[ID: A comic featuring OP, a short-haired, tired-looking person. She gestures to the covers of Revolutionary Girl Utena and Puella Magi Madoka Magica and says, "Wow I hope I don't find another anime of a pink-themed magical girl getting traumatized beyond belief."
A faceless person labeled Social Media holds out a hand, smiling, and says, "Hey here's one about a duck getting traumatized." They're holding out the cover art of Princess Tutu. OP looks stunned as light radiates from it. End ID]
( @princess-of-purple-prose wrote the ID! )
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thebeinghealthy · 1 year
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angelnumber27 · 1 year
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My mind immediately after I say anything to anyone:
“They don’t care. That was fucking stupid.”
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vs-friendlyyours · 2 years
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Super brainy foods to shoot up your memory power
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Memory problems are common among middle-aged people and students. Students are unable to recreate what they have learned. Middle-aged people frequently miss opportunities due to memory loss. In this post, we’ll look at several foods that can help you to increase memory power and succeed in your life.
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misscloudiedays · 1 year
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🎂🎊
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ilikeit-art · 3 months
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Have you ever wondered how tech technicians recover data from faulty flash and memory whose data cannot be recovered by normal methods.
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frutiger-willow · 1 month
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i’m so proud of you! 🍨
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haleyincarnate · 2 years
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Quote by T. Haidar
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orchidscript · 1 year
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Trouble (The Returned, ch. 1)
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So, I’ve been working on a sequel to Henry’s story for most of the year. I’ve decided I’m not going to do anything wild with it. So, there’s nothing stopping me from posting it here, is there? Tags at the bottom, I hope you enjoy!
warnings | family dynamics, secrets, confessions, angst, memory loss, memory recovery, implied sobriety.
~*~*~
Passover seemed like the best time and Eli had agreed with him. The big family holiday festivities, food, drinking, and distractions to cover if it all went poorly.
Henry was happy, had been back home and in classes for a year and a half now. According to June, it had been full of ups, downs, and a few hard left turns, but Henry had come out of it stronger. He believed he was part of a family, was worth going to therapy and doctor’s appointments; and, when he didn’t, his boyfriend was a welcome shoulder to lean on. Kieran was just happy their ice skating date had gone well.
The whole Garcia family had been packed into the Mar Y Cielo for most of the day. The bar was always closed the day before and day of to give Suzana Garcia all the room she needed to cook to her heart’s content. Henry, much to Kieran’s inexact disappointment, had spent that time with the Garcia matriarch and Eli helping cook, taking notes, and asking plenty of questions. June had said that fact of his training had become a true love.
Kieran had spent most of the holiday afternoon with June, entertaining the kids. Rosie, Gabi, and Sylvia were busy coloring and talking amongst themselves. Meanwhile, Esther sat on his lap, sleepily chewing the teething ring she refused to give up.
Kieran was glad his youngest still insisted on being held because he was vibrating with nerves. His stomach churned and he was half considering taking a pill to calm himself down. Instead, he held his littlest daughter close to his chest and carefully sipped a glass of wine.
“Alright there, Kieran?” June asked him.
“Sorta, kind of,” Kieran answered in an unsteady voice.
“Nerves?”
“Yeah, that obvious?”
“You’ve got tells, Kier,” June smiles gently. “What for? Gonna announce Cochran baby number three?”
Kieran laughed a little. “Oh no, no. Never, no more for us. Eli would kill me… Just, um…” He swallowed more wine, trying to stuff down the burning need to tell someone, anyone. “Just family stuff. New family stuff, I—.”
“New family, but not kids?” June leaned forward, interest writ large on her face. “C’mon, Kieran, gimme a little teaser. Please?”
“Well, um,” Kieran glanced around the room, then turned back to June. “You’re sworn to secrecy, okay?”
“Girl scout’s honor.”
“Okay… I found my dad,” Kieran said in a low voice. “My birth father, I mean. And I, I have siblings. Half-siblings, four of them.” He took a steadying breath. “I, well, I just found out and I don’t know how to feel yet.”
June grins widely at him. “That’s exciting! Have you reached out?”
Kieran shakes his head. “Not yet. I’m trying to figure out how to, you know? Eli’s helping me, but it’s still… it’s a lot.”
“I’m sure it is,” June says, nodding. “You’ve never met him, right?”
“Not that I remember. I don’t even know if he even stuck around…” Kieran presses his lips together. He didn’t think June would push him to say more, but he didn’t have to worry long. Sylvia started fussing about something — one of the crayon colors he guessed — dragging Kieran’s attention away.
June took Esther from him so he could scoop up Sylvia, who was now wailing for her mother. Kieran excused himself to the kitchen where Eli and her mother were doing the last of the cooking. More talking than cooking, really.
“Están más cerca de promocionarte?”
“Mamá, lleva mucho tiempo. Solo llevo tres años y estuve embarazada la mayor parte de uno.”
“Sí, pero eso no es excusa para ellos.”
“Mamá—.”
“Sorry to interrupt,” Kieran said sheepishly, bouncing Sylvia in his arms. “Someone really wants her mami.”
“Would she happen to be four and cranky?” Eli smiled, wandering over with her hands out-stretched for their daughter.
“She would. Essie’s with June, perfectly happy.”
“I figured. She’s the easy one, even still.” Eli rolled her eyes good naturedly, cradling Sylvia and wandering back over to the small prep counter. She set the little girl down, wiping her tears, and murmuring sweet things in Spanish that Kieran still didn’t completely understand.
They’d been together for almost ten years now. Kieran had quickly learned to be content with his wife’s little mysteries and love her even more for them. Let himself turn sappy while watching her with their daughters. Let himself wonder what he did to earn her love and the two little girls he loved more than he thought possible.
“Kieran, come here. Try this.” Suzana waved him over, breaking his contented daze.
“Is it more wine?” Kieran teased, walking over anyway. It was either alcohol or food, he knew that much. His mother-in-law had been intent on feeding him from the moment they met.
Suzana shook her head and handed him a slice of something. “Go on. Sheifale made it.”
“Oh, Henry did?” Kieran smiled, finally seeing Henry perched on one of the countertops. He was on the phone — Kieran assumed with the boyfriend, who’s name he didn’t know yet. He was talking animatedly, wrapped up in the conversation.
Henry was smiling, laughing.
Kieran’s stomach flipped uncomfortably as he took a bite. He didn’t want to be the one to ruin that.
What he took a bite of was delicious - honey sweet and peachy. Lime cut through it, balancing out the sweetness, and a textured crust added another layer. Kieran swallowed and took another bite, making a noise at the taste,
“Good, isn’t it?” Suzana grinned up at him.
“Very,” Kieran said. “What is it, exactly?”
“Henry, mijito,” Suzana called over her shoulder. The boy looked up, dark hair flopping into his eyes. He smiled and waved a little at Kieran. “What did you make again?”
“It’s a tart thing. White peach and lime with cornmeal, graham cracker, and honey crust,” Henry answered quickly, hopping off the counter and walking over. He says goodbye to whoever it was and hangs up. “Is it any good?”
“You’re kidding right?” Kieran says before he can think not to. Henry’s face falls but only for a moment. Still, Kieran kicks himself on the inside. “Henry. It’s amazing.”
“Oh.” Henry beams. “Thank you! I’m just glad Suzana wanted to serve it, you know? She has a lot of rules for this whole thing.”
Suzana glances at him sidelong. “When you care about something, mijito, you make rules so it is always good. You care about the tart, so the tart turns out beautifully. Understand?”
“Yes ma’am,” Henry nods. He shoves his hands into his back pockets, chin tucked so he’s looking through his eyelashes.
“Don’t yes ma’am me. Makes me sound old,” Suzana smiled fondly at him. She then took a breath and clapped her hands together, looking between all three of them. “Alright, one last thing to do before dinner. Henry, you are relieved of duty. Go be with the family.”
“Yes, ma-.” Henry stops short, a sheepish smile pulling at his lips. “Sorry. Thank you, Suzana.”
“Thank you. Now go.”
Henry nodded, not needing any more directive than that. He spun on his heel, walking out of the kitchen and back into the bar proper. Kieran stood, watching him go, stuck in place. He was thankful for the peach tart in his mouth, otherwise he would have chewed his lower lip bloody in nervousness. He wished he still had Essie in his arms, or even Sylvia. Someone to distract him from the anxiety flooding his system.
“Cielo,” Eli’s voice broke through his buzzing thoughts. Kieran looked down where his wife’s warm hand had settled at his elbows. She had Sylvia balanced on her hip, an encouraging smile meant just for him. Her green eyes, warm and honest, still cut down to his soul and held him in place.
“Hm?” Kieran blinked, feeling utterly stupid.
“Go.” Eli nodded towards the door. “Talk to him before dinner. Get it over with. I can see your hair turning grey in real time.”
Kieran took in a deep breath, holding it for a full ten-count before letting it out slowly. “You sure?”
“Completely. Talk to him now, give him the rest of the evening to digest it,” Eli nodded toward the door. “Go on. You know you want to.”
“Yeah. Yeah, okay.” Kieran bent to kiss her on the forehead. “Wish me luck, hamsar-am.”
“I always do.”
Kieran pushed himself forward, walking quickly back out into the open bar. His heart raced faster and faster as he went, forcing himself not to rush forward, not to look too insane. He didn’t want to set Henry off, didn’t want to scare him, didn’t want to give the young man any reason to not hear him through. He had full body goose bumps as he approached Henry, pouring himself a small drink.
“Henry?” Kieran started. He almost winced, his voice half giving him away.
Henry looked up and smiled. “Hey.”
“Hey.”
Henry held up the bottle of wine. “Want some?”
“Oh, no. I have to pace myself at these things, I’m such a lightweight,” Kieran smirked.
“You? A lightweight?” Henry inspected him. “No way, you’re like six-four. There’s no way.”
“No lie. Ask Caleb or Eli… or literally anyone in this room. The four glasses of wine about do me in.” Kieran shook himself and pressed forward. “Hey, do you have a minute to talk?”
“Yeah, about what?”
“Do you mind if we go outside?” Kieran said. “I know that sounds weird, but I’d feel better if we kept it between us for a little bit. Shit, that sounds bad, sorry.”
Henry inspected him for a moment, an eyebrow raised suspiciously. After a minute, he nodded. “Yeah, sure. But if you try anything, I’ll scream.”
“Never in a million years, Henry.” Kieran said quickly, spine straightening.
“Kieran.” Henry’s head tilted to the side. “I was kidding. I know you wouldn’t.”
“Oh. Oh, yeah, of course. Um… just.” Kieran coughed and nodded over his shoulder towards the door. He led the way outside not knowing if Henry was following him until they reached it. He stopped right outside on the sidewalk, not wanting to get too close to the front window. Henry stood right in front of him, arms crossed over his chest, his head tilted a touch to the right — just as he had looked inside.
Kieran felt the anxiousness creep back up again. Wrapping tight around his chest and throat. Squeezing from the inside. He should have taken a pill. He knew he had. He had decided he could handle it, that it would be good news, nothing to be afraid of. Now, he swallowed hard and reckoned with the realization that he was terrified of someone a whole decade younger than him.
This had to go well.
This had to go exactly, perfectly, completely right.
Otherwise Kieran might never forgive himself.
“So. The thing I want to talk about,” Kieran started, then paused for a deep breath. He really wished he had taken that pill now. “Sorry, nerves. I, um… Sorry, sorry. I’m not good at anything like this and I’ve been debating even talking about it for a while.”
“Kieran, you’re good. We’re good. What’s up?”
“Okay, okay. I, um, I took a DNA test a couple months ago, one of the ones you see on tv. You know I’m adopted, you’ve met Felix. But I never. I never knew who my dad was or if I had any other family except my mom, so I took this test.” Kieran is very aware he’s rambling. That he’s rushing and obviously flustered, but that Henry doesn’t look the least bit surprised. In fact, the twenty-four year old looks remarkably at ease. “Anyway, I found my dad. And his family. He’s got a wife, four kids, and, and they live in New York.”
“Congratulations,” Henry said. “But why are you telling me?”
“Getting there. Sorry.”
Kieran was scratching at the webbing between his thumb and forefinger; fighting the instinct to push his hand into his mouth and bit down hard on that exact spot. Bite until it hurt, until it was bloody, until he stopped overthinking. He took another breath. He’d do this and then go dig the pill bottle out of Eli’s purse. She always had it, even when she purposefully left it behind. He pushed his glasses to the top of his head, so he could still look at Henry without actually seeing him. Without being able to read the other man’s facial expressions as he spelled the whole thing out.
“My dad has four kids, but when I looked into the family, tried to find a Facebook or whatever, and I found out that one of them went missing. Is still missing.” Kieran paused for a second. “It was five years ago, but there are photos of this kid everywhere and… well, Henry. I think it’s you.”
Kieran closed his eyes as he hears Henry’s sharp inhale, as he feels the air around them shift and tighten like a rubber band pulled to its farthest ends.
“Holy fuck,” he heard the boy whisper.
“Henry, I—.”
“No. Shut up.” Henry said quickly, nearly panicked. “Holy fuck. I need a minute. Gimme a minute.”
Kieran nodded. “Take your time. I h-have more, but. Take your time.”
~*~
tags | @neuro-whump @burtlederp @hackles-up @deluxewhump @justanothermaltesegirl @whumptywhumpdump @whumphours @whump-only @thatsthewhump @boxboysandotherwhump @pebbledriscoll @kixngiggles @rosesareviolentlyread @keeper-of-all-the-random-things
Let me know if you’d like added or removed from the tag list!
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snorlax-and-co · 5 months
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