I Take Things Very Face-value And Often Don't Recognize Flaws In The Things That I Like. It's A Flaw

I take things very face-value and often don't recognize flaws in the things that I like. It's a flaw that I have. Reading your posts about Bookworm hasn't made me like the series any less, but they have grounded my view of the series a bit. You are very intense. It is good to read a harsh dissenting voice when the fandom is so full of soft and agreeable tones.

Smth smth a fan of a story abt literature lacking any respect for literature smth smth—

No, actually, you misunderstand.

AoB is not a story about literature. It's about books. Making books. The contents of said books has never mattered. Not to Myne, not to any of the characters, not to the author.

We never get to hear any of Effa's stories despite it being the first thing Myne makes into a book. Not even a summary. It's as though the narrative doesn't care about the actual story, only that Myne has material for book-making!

Nevermind that storytelling is a rich art that has existed for as long as we've been human, nevermind that stories have been a companion to humanity since the dawn of time, nevermind that oral history has been dismissed and looked down upon by scholars but is so so so rich with information and value and—

Nevermind, of course. It doesn't matter. It's never mattered to Kazuki.

The titles of the books published and distributed also have like. Generic-ass titles. Royal Academy Love Stories. A Ditter Story. Nothing is said of their contents, except that Boys Like Ditter Books and Girls Swoon Over Romance. Nobody in the fandom ever talks about any of the books in the story because there's nothing to talk about. What can you gush about in A Ditter Story? It doesn't matter. Doesn't matter at all. Never has, never will.

Tell me again how this is a story about literature? Nay, nay, the art of writing and storytelling is given no significance or weight in this damn story and trying to pretend otherwise to give it more credit is... disingenuous, in my opinion.

For all that fucking Pandora Hearts isn't a story about literature, it's about so many things (a story about a story a story about love a story about imposter's syndrome a story about realness and the human about a story about so many things but about literature it is not— even if it was based on Alice In Wonderland wait I'm getting sidetracked), anyways it has an in-universe novel series that's published by the volume, Holy Knight, and we get little glimpses into what goes on in the story! One of the characters, Edgar the valet dies in an act of self-sacrifice for his lord Edwin who cuts his hair in mourning after losing Edgar in the end.

Now, why does this matter? Because the novel was actually narratively relevant to the story of Pandora Hearts— Mochizuki Jun is a meticulous writer whom I really look up to— Holy Knight became the connecting common ground that let Oz, the protagonist, befriend Elliot and Leo (master and valet duo) when they first met as they are avid fans of the series (well, two of them were, Leo wasn't to my memory but I digress). It is not only a nifty little tool to give these characters a common ground but it also becomes relevant to their characters in other ways— it sheds light on their characters, Oz who has the self-sacrificing Edgar as his favorite character values his own life so little, is suicidal to some degree, and views himself as expendable. Elliot on the flipside is the opposite— he very notably said “People who think so lightly of their own lives do not have the right to protect anyone!” (which is also a major theme in Pandora Hearts but shush, me, shush, I'm not here to proselytize about an actually well-crafted story here, fuck). Normally I'd avoid spoilers for this kind of series (full of mystery and plot twists and everything good) because it's so good you should experience it yourself but I know that nobody in the AoB tag will give a shit about checking out a well-crafted story (if they think AoB is the height of literature, do you blame me for thinking so?), I'm gonna spoil it. Elliot dies! In an act of self-sacrifice! His last words were directed to his valet: “I'm sorry, Leo.” HOW FUCKING IRONIC IS THAT? And Leo cuts his hair in the aftermath/fallout of Elliot's death— where his grief leads him down a self-destructive spiral. A role reversal between Edgar and Edwin.

From this example provided, you can very clearly see the singular in-universe novel Holy Knight fulfilled multiple narrative functions: reinforcing/establishing the manga's themes, establishing characters, and foreshadowing.

Have I mentioned I love Pandora Hearts to death?

And it's not even! A story! About literature! As many claim AoB is!

How fucking cool would it have been to have something similar with AoB's in-universe novels, something to foreshadow events, stories bringing characters together (no, the library committee only half-counts bc it's books that brought these ppl to gather, not a love of literature and storytelling specifically), stories affecting characters and giving them hope or solace or whatever, stories being used as a narrative device by Kazuki to push certain themes and such?

I could go insane over the utilization of Holy Knight in Pandora Hearts but there's just cricket noises for the novels in AoB bc. I'm. Given. Absolutely fucking nothing! Nada! None! And I'm someone who's like a bloodhound that hunts for symbolism and symbolism only! I have a whole tag dedicated to my character design sheets where I cram in symbolic shit in the designs and over-explain every aspect! (Here's the tag if anyone's interested, probably not but hey, shameless self-plug) If someone like me can't find anything to go insane over about an in-universe novel or story, that's dire! That's so fucking dire! I'm someone who looks at smth ppl say “isn't that deep” and grabs a shovel to make it That Deep. Do you fucking realize. How bad it is that I can't find any narrative significance for stories and storytelling. In a series about making books. Do you understand. Do you fucking understand.

On the note of grabbing a shovel to make things That Deep, yeah let's talk about that. People wish I was actually talking about the themes of the story, engage with them, instead of throwing it all in the trash. Which, yeah, fair!

Except it's not because that's literally what I'm trying to do.

What the everloving fuck did you people think I was doing when I published that post? I was trying to talk about it, from the perspective of someone whose country was colonized by Japan, trying to engage with it from my perspective, trying to get people to critically think about and engage with it too instead of blindly accepting the story's biases, trying to offer my perspective which is of someone who doesn't worship AoB and doesn't immediately shut down criticism of the stories I like because I can't pretend people ever disliking it for legitimate reasons. What is this if not me talking about it? Also, to tell one critic to not just chug the entire thing into the trash and to tell another critic to just stop reading... Pick a lane, y'all. Pick a fucking lane. (In the first place you could've chosen to not read the anti-FerMyne post, yeah it wasn't tagged but there's a summary above the cut that said “IT'S BAD” like what did you think the content under the cut was gonna be. What the fuck did you think it was gonna be.

Smth Smth A Fan Of A Story Abt Literature Lacking Any Respect For Literature Smth Smth—

In the first place people kinda seem self-admitting that they care about nothing outside of the romance-not-romance in AoB, as it doesn't occur to them that someone could be continuing to read the series for other characters they liked, other plot points, anything at all outside of the main romance— The romance only became explicit in the last two volumes, before that it's completely possible to think that the series is not going to end with them getting together if you have an entire fandom gaslighting you into thinking Myne is aro.)

(But then again maybe it's not so out of left field that these people cannot fathom anyone staying for anything outside of FerMyne— people have loudly admitted to hating the version of Myne that existed before she met Ferdinand— since there really isn't much to sink your teeth into except if you like ranting your tongue off about the characters canon either neglects or retcons or tries so hard to make hateable)

(Like I said, not a speck of respect for stories in “a story about literature”)

Anyways, I have never once seen a fandom so resistance to criticism, critical discussion, and anything of the sort like AoB fandom is. Well, except for Moriarty the Patriot but being compared to that fandom isn't a favor because they would aggressively try to chase dissenters out. I would know. I was one of the targets for a mass Twitter campaign. AoB fandom... is shaping up to look like that.

Like, my Naruto mutuals and I have been talking about financial abuse holding supplies hostage dehumanization sexual exploitation misogyny in the narrative etc and the FMA poc community is in a corner discussing narrative framings of Scar and the importance of named characters and individual wrath vs justified anger at the system and how the series mishandled Ishvalans and AoB is just here incapable of understanding that any of it is bigoted, or that AoB has racist/classist/xenophobic themes going on. Beyond a token acknowledgement of there being a “sprinkle” of racist/classist themes in AoB, nobody here ever openly talks about those themes, never criticizes them profusely like there exists thriving critics communities in other fandoms— probably for fear of being ostracized, lol.

To that, I borrow some quotes from the ever lovely Dr. Bret C. Devereaux, an ancient and military historian who currently teaches as a Teaching Assistant Professor at North Carolina State University:

George R. R. Martin: The Dothraki were actually fashioned as an amalgam of a number of steppe and plains cultures… Mongols and Huns, certainly, but also Alans, Sioux, Cheyenne, and various other Amerindian tribes… seasoned with a dash of pure fantasy.

Dr. Bret C. Devereaux: But at the same time, a ‘dash’ only goes so far; if I ask you to add a ‘dash’ of pepper to a recipe and the end product comes back 51% pepper by mass, we need not debate semantics to understand that something has gone really rather wrong.

Dr. Bret C. Devereaux: It seems that our ‘dash of pure fantasy’ has turned from a little bit of salt to flavor the meal into a barrel of salted fish with with all the fish removed.

Dr. Bret C. Devereaux: We might say he has added ‘dashes’ of pure fantasy until the ‘dash’ is the entire soup, but the truth is clearly the reverse: Martin has sprinkled a little bit of water on a barrel of salt and called it just a dash of salt.

To read this wonderfully graceful and eloquent episode of this historian shredding GRRM: here ya go, tis the link.

I wish I could be as eloquent as him. Oh, well, one day.

Forgive me if I seem condescending or haughty by dragging in other better-written stories or a historian but AoB fans have been condescending to us in the first place— equating us to children, sweeping over our words and cultural backgrounds and experiences with “well yeah I need to check what the Experts say first” and trying to de-legitimize any of our arguments with “well clearly you're just not paying attention because Japan is culturally different and you're just ignorant on How Things Are Over There” well newsflash asshole the only two critics in this entire fandom tag are both Asian too! Japan wrecked our countries! I brought up something Japan did, something that it continues to deny to this day and something that many Asian countries are still affected from, shouldn't that count at least on some level as paying attention to whatever mystical “cultural differences” y'all insist we're willfully ignoring? Aren't y'all the ones consistently ignoring and trying to shut up our voices and criticisms? “Is it racist to have your only prominent foreign country be a mishmash of Asian-coded brown people whose only traits are being violent killer rapists and who your white protagonists kill all of before sealing off the border from the foreign invaders” is absolutely entry-level “Can you recognize xenophobic sentiments in media” critical thinking! I can't believe I'm having to say this! What Japan did isn't even some niche distant mystical “Asian history”, it's World War II history. The fact that people are so willing to excuse ableism and xenophobia and anything like that with “b-b-but cultural differences!” is xenophobic in of itself. Is Japan a fucking alien planet? What makes you so vehemently defend the idea of Japan while trying to kill the voices of other Asians? Are we not Pale Enough for you or something?

What in this god damn novel series is so good, so worthy of these people stooping so low?

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Tears of Sapphos

This is the tale of the death of the Goddess of Life, the tale of the first murder. It is a tale that is foundational to the worship of the trio of gods, Akolis, Sapphos, and Paeros. The story itself is not told the same way by every person who tells it, for each narrator will inevitably favor one aspect of a God over another. At times, Akolis the War God was already married to Sapphos, and was simply protecting his union. In others, there were many more suitors after Akolis, all conspiring against Paeros. This rendition of the birth of the Goddess of the Dead will be taking the most common traits of every story, in an attempt to piece together the true history of the Gods. The credit of research and transcription goes to one A. E. Acilia.

In a time when the gods could freely walk the earth, not yet bound to their domains, Sapphos still had yet to claim a husband or a wife. She was recognized as the most beautiful of the gods, yet what captured the hearts of her suitors was the deepness of her emotion. She was first to cry when a friend was wronged, she was first to celebrate the accomplishments of her friends, and when she told you that she loved you, you could tell that she truly meant it. Yet, to the displeasure of her suitors, her love was not the romantic companionship that they sought. She truly loved every god, hill, and tree, but she had refused any advance that the others had made. As the eons passed, her suitors grew weary and accepted that their love would never be requited. All, but one. Akolis, one of the greatest hunters among the gods, still sought her heart. Since the first dawn, Akolis attempted to bring all manners of trophies to impress his target. It was he who trapped each star in it’s point in the sky, creating all manners of traps to secure them. Yet despite her pride for him, she still did not want him the way he wanted her. It was Akolis who roused the mountains, bringing them to their highest peaks so that he could collect the purest clouds to make all manners of clothes for his prize. Yet despite her gratitude, she did not want him any more or less. When the first snow fell upon the world, it was he who melted it into the first rain so that Sapphos could quench her thirst. Yet despite her awe in his strength, she still did not wish to lay with him.

In every hill and vale, you can point to a piece in the landscape that was formed as a gift to Sapphos. She loved each one dearly, and gave it in turn to the other gods so that all could appreciate Akolis’ skill. So in love with her was he, that he took no offense. For she clearly did not hold any ill will. When the first animals began to roam, and the first plants formed out of the rock and sand of the earth, Akolis hunted them as well. As death was yet to be a concept, Akolis could never seem to catch the creatures of the land, nor sea, nor air. In exasperation, he bid Sapphos to accompany him on one of his hunts, so that she could at the very least see this new life that roamed the world.

Sapphos accompanied him eagerly, for she was the most sheltered of the gods. Together they went from Sapphos’ home in the earth, into the first forest. In this time, the woods were still connected, and covered nearly every corner of the land. It was here, that Sapphos fell in love with life. When she gazed into the emerald leaves of the newly-born trees, she was overcome with adoration. When the first Elk ran past the duo, she could not help but be filled with curiosity and thrill. These creatures were so different to what she had come to expect from the creations of the gods. Their thoughts were so quick compared to the mountains and hills, their freedom was paralleled only by the winds.For once, Sapphos had a request for Akolis. She wished to meet the one who created the stems, roots, and leaves. She wished to see who gifted animation to the furred creatures of the woods, to the scaled fish of the deep, to the feathered birds of the sky. Ever dutiful, and seeing an opportunity to truly impress Sapphos, Akolis began his search. For a year and a day he was not seen, for he was scouring the deepest parts of the woodland realm, the most blinding kingdoms of the sky, and the darkest depths of the ocean. It was on that last day, the day that he almost gave up, that he found the one who he was looking for.

Paeros, the Lady of Life. She was a young goddess, only recently worshiped by the elk, the fish, and the birds. Her hair was a collection of every leaf, branch, coral, and vine. Her body was fluid and genderless, and from it she could mold any creature into life. When she spoke to Akolis in greeting, he found it nearly impossible to speak. Her beauty, yet hidden behind a wooden mask, could nearly rival Sapphos’. She truly would make an excellent gift.Akolis bid Paeros to stay in this clearing for a day, so that he could bring Sapphos to her. Paeros agreed, being curious to meet the gods who had built this world for her children to spread across. In a mere hour, Akolis and Sapphos returned. As Sapphos and Paeros greeted one another, and told the other their names, both were struck by fascination. Akolis slowly faded from their minds as the two began to converse. For a day and a night, Sapphos learned the name of every creature, and Paeros learned the name of every star. Sapphos learned of Paeros’ passion for her craft, and her insatiable desire to create more. Paeros learned of Sapphos’ passion for all things, and her love for it all. Akolis shared his will to protect everything that Sapphos loved, yet he did not learn anything from the two.

Akolis began to stew in his jealousy. Sapphos never conversed with him with such fervor, nor did her eyes hold the same look she held for Paeros. In the end, it was he who ended the time the three spent together. Forcing Sapphos along, he took her from Paeros’ glade. Akolis had never seen Sapphos so sad to say goodbye, nor had he seen her so happy simply to be in the presence of another. It was as if he had truly never seen her before that day. Perhaps he had only seen what his obsession wanted him to see.

In the days after, Paeros began a journey to find Sapphos. Yet it would not be one that she would make without resistance. Akolis intimidated the mountains to grow wider and more sprawling, dividing the land into pieces and confusing Paeros. When she reoriented herself, he chased the rivers into the oceans, forcing them to grow wider and divide the continent more. When Paeros began to cross the rivers, Akolis began to hunt her creations with more vigor. Though unable to die, her children returned to her in droves, bearing vicious wounds from arrow and spear alike. As she was slowed, Akolis then plead to the gods of earth and sea, convincing them that life needed to be separated to truly grow and diversify. Agreeing, if only without knowing the truth, the gods of the earth and sea turned a single landmass into continents and archipelagos. When Paeros was done healing all of her children, she found herself alone on an island far from every other realm.

Paeros despaired, yet it was not in life’s nature to stagnate due to obstacles. Instead, she began to craft a gift for Sapphos, who she wished to see more than anyone else in the world. Paeros gave shape and form to the first two of the dragons, creatures so intelligent that they could access a small portion of the magicks that the gods used to form the world. With their strength, flight, and magic, the dragons would be how Paeros would find Sapphos.

Together, the pair flew. It is said that these dragons would fall in love during their journey, as they were formed out of Paeros’ love for Sapphos. Every drake, wyrm, and wyvern that were descendants of the dragons would keep a portion of this love inside of them, and so it was that the dragons and their kin were the most faithful companions in the realms.No matter how many arrows Akolis shot at the dragons, nor how many mountains grew in their path, the dragons could not be stopped. Still, it took them seven years to find Sapphos, and display themselves to her as their mother’s first gift. Sapphos would not need any other gifts from Paeros. From the dragons, Sapphos learned all that Akolis had done to prevent Paeros from meeting her love. Despite her love for him, she could not feel more ashamed that one who she considered a close friend had torn the realm asunder out of mere jealousy.

Knowing that Akolis would not allow Sapphos to meet with Paeros, Sapphos came up with a plan. Morphing herself into the form of a dragon, she would pose as the couple’s child. Together, they would fly from her home and back to Paeros, so that they could be together.

Yet as the dragons flew, they were stalked by Akolis. Sapphos could not hide herself in her entirety from him, and he would watch the dragons through every day and night to see where they had hidden his obsession. Her disguise was cunning, but his senses were beyond it. Unbeknown to them, the hunter followed the trio back to Paeros’ island silently.

As the trio set down upon the island, Sapphos changed shape from dragon-child to her original form. She rushed to Paeros, who could not hide her surprise even behind her mask. Together, they embraced each other. They had found one another, and all would be well.

But Akolis could not accept this perceived betrayal. As the two lay together, he returned to the heavens so that he could ensure that each regretted meeting the other. Taking the brightest of the stars that he had trapped, he formed an arrow that would not be stopped by any manner of immortality. With it, he would declare war on the notion of life.

It is said that even today, one can see the trail of stars in the sky that rushed to avoid Akolis’ arrow. It flew true, and no obstacle would prevent it from reaching Lady Life. Even the mighty Dragons stepping in the way of the devastating shot would not slow it for a moment.Death was a new sensation to the Lady of Life. It was sudden, different from the careful crafting that formed Life. Sapphos would not even be able to comprehend why her love did not respond to her when she called out her name. This was the first death, the first mourning of something lost. Paeros could not comfort her lover in death. They had spent only a fraction of their everlasting lifetimes with one another, yet it was already over. Sapphos would not move from the spot that the arrow struck Paeros, to do so would be to abandon her soul. Instead, she could only find the strength to weep. As she gazed into the stars through tear-filled eyes, she could no longer see each as a gift. They were like a message from Akolis, a message of domination and hopelessness. All she could do was cry, and for each star in the sky a hundred days of mourning passed.

Having achieved victory over his personal foe, Akolis expected to feel joy. To feel that he had finally removed every barrier between him and Sapphos. But all that could reach him in that moment was a terrible regret. From the heavens, he watched as the one he claimed to love wept. To comfort her would be a terrible mistake. How had he committed such sin?He could not face her, nor would he be accepted by the other Gods. His judgment would surely come to him soon. And so, Akolis remained immobile, stuck in his firing position. Remorse would not save Paeros, it would not revert the world back to what it was. When the King of the Gods found Akolis transfixed, he would deal out his first punishment. Magic chains were bound across Akolis’ body, forcing him to keep his bow in his grip and his quiver at his side. For every day of Sapphos’ mourning, a chain would bind him to one of the stars and force him to witness it all until the second half of his punishment could be given.

As Sapphos mourned, the tears that she wept gathered around her feet, staining her dress and soaking the land. As her tears fell without relief, a river began to grow and grow. A thin stream that passed under the bodies of her lover and the first dragons would become a raging tide, and so the bodies would float away. So consuming was her grief that Sapphos would not realize until the last tear fell from her cheek.

When her body could produce no more tears, and her breath was dry and ragged enough to turn farmland into desert, Sapphos could see what she had created. A pale, ghostly river flew from her as the source, and despite her no longer being able to cry, it regenerated from nothing. Stumbling to her feet, the goddess stared in disbelief into the mystic waters.

She felt an urge to bathe in them, to let them take her away from this place. She obliged, for the world had become so dull and so lifeless without Paeros. Stepping into the river, she would allow it to take it where it pleased. She expected to be ravaged by the storming waters, yet she felt no harm. Deep beneath the surface of the river, she could only feel at peace.

Long did it carry her, the sky above darkening and brightening enough times to lose count. As she traveled, she felt some new wisdom seep into her mind. Death was new, it was sudden, it hurt more than anything else could. Yet she did not hate it. She could only love what came before it, and feel the deepest joy that she could have met Paeros. The river was so turbulent, yet so gentle. It could not be an evil, even if evil spawned it.

Eventually, the river carried her to a shore. She knew that this was where she must depart from the river. Rising from the waves, she stepped upon the glass sand that lined the riverbank. A billion tiny pearls laid at her feet, flawed and raw. For some reason, she knew that she would not be able to return to the land of the mortals once she placed her foot into the cutting glass.

The pain was not unpleasant, it seemed only natural that the mourned would feel the pain that the mournful basked in. Climbing from the banks, godly ichor staining the sands beneath her, Sapphos would walk aimlessly yet full of purpose.

Tall grasses welcomed her, cleaning away the blood that followed in her wake. It would never dry, glistening darkly among the grass for as long as it swayed in the winds.

As Sapphos walked among the landscape, she could not find any other soul. Instead, all that greeted her was a seemingly endless plane of grass and hill. Visions of pavilions and castles entered her mind, as if she was seeing a future that had yet to pass, but the hills remained empty.

She would not rest for many days, though there was not a ray of daylight in this world. Despite the lack of stars, she could still see everything clearly. It did not glow with the radiance of the living, but all was perfectly visible. To Sapphos, it was as enchanting as the woodland realm that Paeros had first showed to her.

The single passing thought of Paeros felt powerful. It brought grief back within her heart, where there had been only a cold stillness after bathing in the river. Falling to the base of a tree, she could only stare into the silence of the ether.

But she was not alone. This tree was home to the soul of the first god to die. Shifting from the form of the tree, Paeros stared from above into the eyes of Sapphos. For a while, neither could yet register the other. They had both thought themselves to be forever removed from their lover, and the eyes of the once familiar seemed so distant and ethereal.

But it was them. They could do nothing but embrace one another, in the cold stillness of the underworld. Words failed them, so overcome by love, grief, and surprise were they.

They would take comfort in one another, alone in the vast and empty grey of the grasses. Together they would craft a home for themselves, a place where they would be safe from interference forever. Even as the souls of the newly dead mortals began to wash up on the shores of glass, the two would welcome them and help them build new homes for themselves. The palaces of the dead would rise, and the landscape of the underworld would shift and change so that each soul could rest comfortably.

For ten years, the dead would create their realm, separate from the living. It was not until a Phoenix arrived at the doors of the Queens of the Dead that they would have any contact with the gods above.

The Phoenix, always the messenger of the gods, would bear news from the King of the Gods. Due to his crime against his people, Akolis had been chained. Yet due to this, the mortal beasts and men of the world were starved of the sustenance of the hunt. Men could scavenge, yet too many beasts were starving from being unable to live as they once did, without death.

The couple was given the choice to pass new judgment on Akolis, and punish him as they saw fit. While most would leap at the chance to punish their murderer, Paeros and Sapphos sat still and silent for a day’s time as they deliberated amongst themselves in imperceptible ways.

In the end, they decided that Akolis would be forced to face his sin for the rest of his immortal life. He would be the reaper, the one who guided every lost soul to the underworld. He was the dealer of the first death, and now he would forever be forced to repay the dead.

The Phoenix accepted this response, and so it returned to life in a brilliant fire. The King of the Gods, too, would accept this response when the Phoenix returned to him. And so it was decreed. Akolis, God of the Hunt, God of War, and Guide of the Dead would be returned from his heavenly prison to the world below.

Yet still, his chains did not leave him without difficulty. So ingrained in his body were they, that they would rend his flesh from his bone without remorse. This pain, was the second half of the punishment that the King of the Gods had in mind for him. All that remained of Akolis was his hands, his face, and the bone that comprised his body. The cloak of death was never meant to intimidate, but to spare the newly dead from gazing upon more than his still-pristine hands and face.

And so, it is said that the final sound one hears when they are about to die, is the bounding leaps of hooves against stone, and the splitting of the air as an arrow collects a soul for the river.


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11 months ago

Trans girls should get $6000 for existing


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aspecofdust - I don't??? Know????
I don't??? Know????

Tumblr is scary...........

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