but they sure are blurry huh

Their Children

AKA: 5 Times Phil Coulson was Their Dad and 1 Time Melinda was Their Mom

Funny story: This entire fic actually stemmed off of a tweet Clark posted a few weeks ago. Someone had compared a photo of him to a photo of a $10 bill and he responded “What’s your name son?” in classic dad trying to be cool fashion. Thus this fic was born. I hope you guys enjoy cause I had a lot of fun writing this!

What’s Your Name, Son?

“Oh my God.” Phil can hear Daisy snickering from the common room, Elena is seated next to her. The speedster is leaning on her shoulder looking at something she had pulled up on her phone now giggling into her leader’s jacket. He takes a moment reminiscing in the sound of their bubbling laughter. It’s infectious really. Laughter was such a rare thing on base and to hear it so uninhibited made his heart swell a bit. Especially from Daisy, whose wide smiles were replaced with half sarcastic smirks. He spies May sipping a beer across from them. Elena seizes the laptop turning it towards May and he swears for half a second it looked like she was about to choke on her beer.

“Anybody wish to let me in on the joke?” He asks stepping into the room. As if almost automatic Melinda holds up the beer that had been settled by her side. She had grabbed it for him. He accepts the beer standing behind her.

“Hablando del diablo.” Elena laughs.

“You know I speak Spanish right?” Phil asks.

“Yes but it’s fun to watch Daisy try to figure out what I’m saying.” Elena jokes shoving Daisy with her elbow.

“I know what diablo means!” Daisy scoffs in protest.

“Only because you wanted your Twitter bio to be ‘Donald es el diablo naranja.’” This time it’s his turn to choke on his beer.

“Coulson thinks it’s funny!”

“I never said it wasn’t funny.” Elena teases.

“Well what were you two joking about?” He asks again.

“Oh!” Daisy turns her laptop showing it to him. On the laptop was a photo of him next to a photo of a ten dollar bill. “Maria sent me those two photos and I have to say the likeness is uncanny.” Daisy snickers.

Phil let’s out a small laugh. He has to say there is a certain resemblance. He can’t help himself, he has to make the joke. “What’ your name, son?” He says in a sing-song tone.

“What?” Daisy’s smile fades from her face as she stares at him.

“You know, the musical Hamilton. All about-”

“I know what Hamilton is Coulson.” Daisy interrupts. “The lyrics are ‘What’s your name, man’ not ‘What’s your name son’”

“No, I’m pretty sure I’m right.” He denies. His gratification in himself only lasts a few seconds before Elena has already pulled up the song playing the section of it. He let’s out a laugh shrugging slightly. “Oops.”

Melinda gets up suddenly leaving the room. He watches her go trying not to be sad at the change. Suddenly Daisy’s laptop makes a noise.

“Huh that’s weird.”

“Who is it from?” Elena asks.

“Says it’s anonymous.” Daisy’s back straightens ready to hack if necessary. Suddenly her face crumples as boisterous laughter escapes her throat. Elena looks over next joining in on the noise. He can’t help his curiosity walking to the back of the couch.

The photo was kind of blurry but it was obviously of his, his glasses perched on his nose. His pants were rolled up to his knees, wearing some graphic tee with bright red shoes. Sure enough it was a photo Melinda had snapped of him on a skateboard.

“May!” He shouts running after her.

The Bearer of Bad Jokes

‘Hey DC I was thinking-”

“I thought I smelled something burning.” Daisy freezes, a glare that scarily similar to May’s shadowing over her face. That’s when Phil had begun.

For months Phil began to terrorize the base with what Daisy referred to as “dad jokes”. He’d take the opportunity to snarkily reply whenever he got the chance. It had become his personal mission to get everyone on the base at least once.

“Fitz,” He calls over the scientist one day with a grim look on his face. They were surveying a cemetery for signs of an inhuman that frequented there visiting her family. “Do you know why I’m not allowed to be buried here?”

Alarm flashes over Fitz’s face. First concern, then mild curiosity, then slight fear. “No sir, why’s that?”

“Because I’m not dead yet.” Yet another one down. He’d fallen for it flawlessly.

Elena is next, cornered in a church after a mission. “Do you know how they make the holy water?” Phil asks suddenly.

“Sir it’s water.”

“They boil the hell out of it.” It was definitely worth getting shot with an ICER by Melinda for that one.

Mack was simply fixing up Melinda’s motorcycle one day when Phil advanced. “I had a dream that I was a muffler last night, you know.”

“Sir?” Mack looked startled and a little freaked out by the odd statement from the normally serious man.

“I woke up exhausted.”

The next came Jemma who sat back after eating a meal that he’d specially prepared for the team as a birthday celebration for Daisy. She sits back suddenly a hand on her stomach.

“I’m full.” She announces with a laugh. Everyone seems to freeze at once recognizing the sparkle of mischief in his eyes.

“No you’re Jemma. I’m full.” Everyone proceeded to groan and leave the room, the remaining two only being him and Melinda. His soft laughter is the only thing filling the silence. “Come on that was a good one.”

“You’re sleeping on the couch tonight.”

His Girls

Yet another undercover mission, Phil sighs to himself as he settles onto the park bench. It was an easy one today, just a stake out. Observe a suspected Inhuman and make deductions of whether or not they could be a potential danger to themselves and others. Even if they figured they were a danger, extraction wasn’t their mission today. Today they were to relax and would it really hurt anybody if they caught a ride or two?

Melinda sits across from him with her sunglasses covering her eyes from him. He knows she’s staring at the family just over his shoulder. The mother turned out to be an Inhuman after being caught on security tape with a random burst of powers. She hadn’t hurt anyone or caused chaos. Just a mere startling. It’s not clear if she’s even aware that she’s exhibited signs of her powers.

He takes a moment to observe Melinda. She’s wearing a flowery dress that barely brushes past her knees. Her hair is tied up into a ponytail and her makeup is light. She’s absolutely breathtaking.

Suddenly she tenses, it’s all in her frame. That’s the look she gets when she’s ready to fight. Phil spares a glance over his shoulder, the woman is leaning over a baby carrier cooing at the small human inside. Not even a sign of the sparks echoing from her fingers. He turns back to Melinda who continues to stare straight past him. His eyes fall on Daisy and Jemma this time. The two girls stand in line waiting for ice cream. They were all posing as a family on vacation, both girls were wearing blue jean shorts and loose fitting tanks. He could tell by their composure both girls were incredibly uncomfortable.

Finally he finds the victims of May’s death glare. There are two guys, one has arm wrapped around Jemma. God bless her, she’s smiling politely and doing her best to maintain cover. He can see the twitch of Daisy’s fingers. If they don’t leave soon Daisy will make them. Phil reaches over placing a hand on Melinda’s as a sign of “I’ll be right back.”

“… You can ditch them. It wouldn’t hurt anything. It looks like you could use someone who can show you a good time.” The taller one is leaning into Daisy now. He’s invading her space. “I think I could show you a good time, what do you say sweetheart?”

Phil clears his throat catching the attention of the four. Jemma’s eyes reveal her entirely. She’s unsure of what to do or say. “Dad?” She chokes out.

“This is the old man?” The one with his arm around Jemma scoffs. “Get out of here pops.” Phil offers his best fake grin. He reared back punching the man in the nose. He immediately releases Jemma and she scrambles over to Melinda. Daisy stomps on the other’s foot twisting his arm as soon as Jemma is out of reach.

“You’re lucky it was me and not my wife.” Phil growls at the boy. He’s holding his nose as it bleeds profusely. “If you come near my girls again I will be sure to let her handle you next time.” He nods to Daisy and she pushes his friend to the ground.

“Thanks Dad.” Daisy smiles nudging him playfully on the arm. His heart swells a bit in his chest. He knows it’s for their cover but it’s something she’s said low enough that only he can hear. He leans in placing a soft kiss on the side of her head.

“Anything for my girls.” He’s pretty sure he could get used to the sound of that.

His girls.

Friendly Competition

Phil purses his lips watching the two of them talking rather animatedly from just outside. Mace had been bonding with the agents much more since the whole LMD thing blew over. It seemed his new favorite buddy was Fitz. He nearly jumps when his phone buzzes in his pocket.

Stop being so jealous. You’re practically transparent.

Phil looked around but he was the only one in sight anywhere. Very funny Mel. Where are you?

He waits a beat before the phone buzzes again. Madrid. Got a lead on where Vijay could have disappeared to. Since the LMD thing we set monitors in the zephyr. Your face is as red as the bricks.

He feels his face flush even darker now. Of course Melinda can see right through him even when she’s hours away.

Go in there. Against his instinct he steps into the common room. He can almost feel May’s told-you-so smirk from here. God he really is transparent.

“Agent Coulson, good to see you.” He’s not sure why but Mace’s smarmy grin still burns a fire in his stomach. “I was just discussing with Agent Fitz some improvements that can be made to his lab.”

“Jemma and I’s lab actually… sir.” Fitz corrects offering a kind smile.

“Yes of course.”

“On the bus Fitzsimmons had their own private lab. They work most efficiently when together.” Coulson suggested. Out of the corner of his eye he swears he can see Fitz light up at the idea. “Keeping the separate isn’t beneficial to the team.”

“I think you of all people will understand, Phil, that there are plenty of good agents that work well within SHIELD. It simply isn’t efficient to have a small team of expert agents. We need to spread our assets as much as possible and equalize our training.”

“Yes but Fitzsimmons are an exception. They work exceptionally well alone but their difference together is incredible. If one can’t solve a problem they will find a way to talk the other through it.”

“Yes well-”

“Hello Fitz.” Phil hears Jemma greet.

“They’re doing it again.” He hears the young scientist mutter under his breath.

“Oh dear, another dad battle?”

“Another dad battle.”

“I will look into your suggestion Coulson. We’ll have a test trial and see if your statement holds true. If so, I will work on making a private sector for agents Fitz and Simmons personally.” Mace stands with an amicable smile, “Now if you excuse me.”

Phil watches him go with a sort of pride in his chest. He feels his phone buzz yet again.

Round: Phil. Victory dinner when we get back?

He smiles to himself shooting back a quick text. You bring the whiskey, I’ll order Thai?

Sounds like a deal to me.

Something Borrowed

Phil entered the office only to find Jemma and Fitz waiting for him. The sight was a tad unnerving.

“Why do I feel like I’ve been called to the principal’s office?” He jokes.

“Sir, as you know Fitz proposed about a month ago…” Jemma drones off.

“Yes and congratulations.” He smiles.

“Well originally we had planned on eloping to Ireland so that we can get the family together. I mean of course we still are but it’s a little inconvenient for an entire team of spies to all travel to Ireland for a wedding, and that places our family in harm and-”

“What Fitz is trying to say is we’re going to hold two weddings. One for our family in Ireland. One for our family here.” Jemma squeezes her fiancee’s hand as a sign of support.

“Yes. That’s right.”

“And you called me here because?” Coulson asks. “I’m not really one for wedding planning. Though I do make a mean cake.”

“Well, I proposed this to Fitz the other day. I was wondering for our wedding here… Would you walk me down the aisle?” Jemma asks biting her lower lip.

For a few seconds he swears his heart stops again. He would know after all, he’s experienced it before. He’d always wanted kids but never got the opportunity to have them. There were moments when he regretted not being able to teach his boy how to play baseball, teach his little girl how to dance, walk his daughter down the aisle… Now that he’s here it sort of dawns on him that he’s had this all along. Sure he missed out on their childhood but he’s just as much their father as the legal one.

“Well?” Fitz asks hopefully.

“I’d be honored to walk you down the aisle.” Jemma cheers throwing her arms around his neck. In the small sentimental moment, he swears he can hear her small voice against his shoulder.

“I love you Dad.”

A Mother’s Love

Elena was about a fraction away from pacing footsteps into the cement, that much Melinda could tell. Her hands were wringing together at super speed while she stayed pacing just slow enough for Melinda to be able to clearly tell the young woman’s outline. Something was obviously bothering her but she had no idea why she was here. The woman had obviously been waiting for her. It was 5 in the morning, just in time for her Tai Chi and Daisy was out of the country fetching a new inhuman.

“Elena?” The girl stops suddenly almost startled. The bags under her eyes are significant and Melinda almost wonders how long she’d been pacing in here. “What’s wrong?”

She hesitates and for a second Melinda is positive she’s about to run away. She opens her mouth and let’s out a small whisper, “I’m pregnant.”

Melinda freezes for contemplating how to move forwards with this new information. She places her water a towel on the bench and moves back towards her. “How far along are you?”

“About six weeks.” Elena breathes.

“Does anyone else know?”

“Just you and Simmons. She wants to do an ultrasound tomorrow to check on the baby.” Elena frowns.

“And Mack?” The look on her face is enough to give away her true motives behind this visit. “So that’s why you’re here.”

“He told me about what happened to Hope.” Her eyes fall to the ground. “I know you and Coulson know.”

“Records.” Melinda nods, “We’re required to know.”

“I don’t know how to tell him. He already lost one child and now-” Elena sucks in a breath her hands falling on her stomach protectively.

“You’re worried he’ll not want this child.”

“No.” Elena almost looks offended. “Just… What if something horrible happens?”

Melinda purses her lips at the thought. “Something terrible always happens. I swear to you we will do everything in our power to protect both of you.”

“What if they’re…”

“Inhuman?” Melinda asks. “Then we teach them as you and Daisy learned. This is a gift. Not a curse. So many people used their powers for bad over fear of themselves.” She states calmly. “He or she will have nothing to be afraid of.”

“And Hope?”

“He has to let the girl go.” Melinda smiles sadly. “Have faith in him.”

Quicker than she can react, Elena has her wrapped in a crushing hug. Hesitantly Melinda hugs the girl back. “Thank you May.”


“Hey.” Phil snakes his arms around her waist from behind, kissing the back of her neck. “Have I ever told you how good you look in my shirts?” He purrs nipping lightly at the juncture of her neck. She was clad in nothing more than his shirt when she’d heard a small knock on the door in the middle of the night. “Why did you leave bed?” He buries his nose in her neck possessively.

Melinda had asked the same question herself when she’d come out. Her gun lays dormant on the table beside the door, in replacement she clutches a photo in her hand. The photo is blurry but she can trace the outline of the small baby.

Faith. The name was written in familiar handwriting on the back. It had been a few months since she’d talked to Elena about her situation. Now not only did she have a photo, but a name as well.

“Apparently we’re grandparents.” Melinda smiles showing him the photo.

“Faith?” Phil laughs lightly. “Mack has always been a sentimental man.”

Four and a half months later, Melinda sheds a tear for the first time in years as Faith Mira Mackenzie grips the tip of her finger in her tiny little fist.

Not the Wrong Number

For Anon~ I decided to make this a Suho x reader, since you didn’t know who to choose. I hope that’s okay, and that this lives up to your expectations!

Member(s): Suho

Genre: x Reader, I guess it’s kind of a mystery and fluffy at the end??

POV: 3rd Person

Originally posted by veriloquentmind

Suho yawned, stretching and reaching blindly from his spot on the couch for his phone to see if any of the members had texted him. He was at the dorm alone, the others had had variety shows or had gone out to eat. He had opted to stay home, needing some rest.

“Nothing,” he hummed, seeing the blank phone screen. He shrugged, no messages meant everything was fine.

He yawned again, his eyes slowly drifting closed when suddenly, his phone vibrated.

He groaned.

Right before I fell asleep, too. Didn’t I just check my phone?

He picked it up, his vision blurry with sleep. Rubbing at his eyes, he read the message from the number marked ‘Unknown’.

From ‘Unknown’: Hi! I know I don’t have the wrong number because I purposely just pushed a bunch of buttons…anyway, it’d be really, REALLY helpful if you could call me at this number in like, 15 minutes, and play along, thanks!

“Huh.” Suho stared at his phone, utterly confused. “I…hmm.”

Should he text back? Should he just ignore it? Should he…actually listen to the text and call them? Should he call the police, his members? He wasn’t sure, but he knew one thing: he was definitely awake now.

“What could ‘Unknown’ possibly want me to call them for in the first place?” He wondered aloud.

Finally, he resolved to listen to the strange text and call the after fifteen minutes.

While he was waiting, he thought of possible scenarios for the phone call.

Who will answer? He thought. Will it be a man or a woman? Maybe it’s a little kid who got ahold of their parent’s phone? No, they probably wouldn’t be able to type out full sentences. Maybe it’s a telemarketer? But they wouldn’t text so late at night. And they’d call, not ask me to call. Maybe it’s a murderer who has the members. But then they wouldn’t know my number, so it couldn’t possibly be a murderer…

Fifteen minutes passed quickly, and before he knew it, the timer on his phone went off, signaling him to call ‘Unknown’ and see what they wanted.

“Okay,” he said to himself as he pressed the ‘call number’ button.

Cautiously, he brought his phone up to his ear, the ringing tone quickly switching to quiet.

“Hello?” a feminine voice said, and Suho blinked, caught off-guard.

“Ah! Um, hi. You…texted me?” He said, trying to sound normal.

“Hi! Did you read my message from earlier?” the voice asked, and he nodded, before realizing they couldn’t see him. Or maybe they could. He didn’t know if they were a stalker or something.

“Yes, I did. You needed me to call and play along, only I don’t-“

“Yes, I’m fine, thank you. Work was good. I’m at dinner right now, Jin practically dragged me since he doesn’t believe you were my boyfriend. Matter of fact, he thinks that I just had Yun call me, and he wants to talk to you to make sure you’re real, since he wants to ask me out.”

“Huh?” Suho’s eyes widened at her words, until he remembered the text. Play along. “Oh…Uh, I’ll talk to him. To show him I’m real.”

“Thanks, babe!” she said, and he could hear her pass the phone to “Jin”.

“Hello? So you’re the one dating (y/n)?” a deep voice asked. It sounded fake, like someone who was pretending to sound cooler than they really were.

“Hello, yes, I’m the one dating (y/n).” Suho said in a normal voice, the name rolling off his tongue. So that’s who ‘Unknown’ is. Someone named (y/n). “Is there a problem with that?”

“Stop being stupid and acknowledge that I do have a boyfriend so that I can go home, Jin!” He heard in the background. There was a sigh, and then a weak “Okay,” before the phone was handed back.

“Sorry about that,” (y/n) said. “Now, would you mind picking me up? I’m at the restaurant you took me to for my birthday.”

“Wait, what?” Suho stuttered, confused again. “Do you actually need me to pick you up, or…?”

“Yes, of course. I’ll be waiting outside with Jin, he refuses to leave until he meets ‘the man who took me from him’. Just look for a pretty (height), (hair color)-haired sitting on a bench with a weirdo.”

“Wait, no, seriously, I don’t even know where you are.” Suho bit his lip, was she serious or wasn’t she? Couldn’t she just get a taxi?

“Thanks babe, I’ll text you.” She hung up.

Suho stared at the ‘Call ended’ on his screen, his eyes wide. Now he actually needed to pick someone up. But he couldn’t just go out in public! He was supposed to be resting, how did he end up in this situation? His phone buzzed, signaling a new text.

Yes, unfortunately, I need more help. Jin won’t leave me alone, he insists on staying until you pick me up. Do you mind?

Suho sighed, but texted back, I’m always happy to help. I’ve had to do much more drastic things. Text me the address and I’ll be there soon.

He got up off the couch, pulling on a hat and mask, assuming the proper ‘idol-in-public’ disguise. He checked his phone, put the address into his GPS, and got into the car, driving off to go save a stranger.

Upon arrival to the restaurant, Suho could see who he hoped was (y/n), sitting on a bench outside with a guy. He pulled up to the curb, grabbing his phone and shooting off a quick text.

Is that you with the desperate looking guy?

His phone vibrated with a response. That’d be me. And yes, Jin is the desperate looking guy. Don’t let him try to intimidate you, he’s like a puppy. Thank you for doing this.

He smiled, before climbing out of the car and approaching them.

“Hey, jagiyah,” he said, walking up to her and taking her hand. He hoped it didn’t look too awkward.

“Hey,” she hummed, smiling apologetically at him.

“So you’re the infamous…wait, what’s your name?” Jin squinted at him.

“Junmyeon.” Suho said, looking him over. “You must be Jin, the one who’s always giving my poor jagiyah a hard time.”

Jin faltered, before grinning sheepishly. “I suppose I am.” He cleared his throat awkwardly. “Well, I’d better get going now…thanks for, uh, going with me, (y/n).” He gave a little wave, before running off.

Suho glanced at (y/n), who peered up at him.

“What’s with the hat and mask?” she asked, reaching up to pull the hat off.

“Don’t,” he said, pushing it down. “I need it.”

“But what for?”

“Hey, I helped you, didn’t I?” he said, tapping her nose. “I owe you no answers.”

“But how do I know you’re not a criminal?”

“You should’ve thought of that before you texted me and had me drive here. Be glad I live nearby, too, or else I wouldn’t have come.”

She pouted. “Well, are you a criminal?”

“I am well-known.” He replied. “Do you want to catch a taxi now that whoever that guy was is gone or do you want me to drive you?”

“Either way I’ll be riding with a stranger. I’d rather go with the stranger who came to my rescue.” She mused. “I at least know your phone number. That’s something, right?”

“Sure.” He led her to his car, opening the door for her.

“And now I know that you’re a gentleman.”

He laughed, shaking his head as he climbed into his side. She rattled off her address to him, and he started driving.

“I have a question.” He said, trying to strike up a conversation.

“Ask away. I suppose I owe you answers.” She replied, smiling at him.

“How’d you end up on a date with-“

“Jin. His name is Jin. He’s my co-worker, and he’s…yeah. He’s…he’s Jin.” She pursed her lips, unsure of what to say. They sat in silence for a few minutes, before she asked, “Is your name really Junmyeon?”


“But is that what you prefer to go by?”

He shrugged. He was used to people calling him Suho by now, but he didn’t really care either way.

“I don’t really care.” He responded. “What about you?”

“Well, my name’s (y/n), obviously.”


They both laughed, the mood in the car suddenly happy.

They talked a bit more, about weather and jokes and (y/n)’s dog.

“We’re here,” she said as he parked. She turned to him. “Thank you for helping me tonight.”

He beamed. “It was no trouble.”

A soft smile tugged at her lips. “Well, I’ll text you later, I guess.”

He arched an eyebrow. “Really?”

“Yeah. I want to get to know you. Plus, you might need to help me in the future, if I go to an office party or something…and I owe you.”

“It’s fine, you don’t-“

She leaned over and kissed him gently on the cheek, before hopping out of the car.

“Thank you!” she called over her shoulder, before walking through the doors of her apartment complex.

Suho’s fingers brushed over his cheek, his face flushing a light pink. He didn’t even remember feeling tired anymore. His phone vibrated on the center console, lighting up to show a text from Baekhyun: Yah, where are you? We’re at the dorm, open the door! Are you dead or something??

Suho laughed, driving quickly back. He raced up the stairs, meeting his members at the door.

“Why couldn’t you guys just open it?” He asked, shaking his head as he unlocked it.

“Sehun said he brought his key, but he lost it.”

Suho laughed again.

“Where were you? Did you have a good rest?” Kai asked.

“I ended up going out.”

“Did you have a good time, hyung?” Sehun asked.

Suho grinned, hoping he wasn’t blushing again.

“Yes. Yes, I did.”

Modern!Darman: I swear Etain and I aren’t dating, that’s crazy, where would you even get that idea. We’re just…really good friends

Modern!Atin: *as he swipes through Darman’s phone gallery of 50+ blurry photos of Etain laughing and smiling and in one case wearing Darman’s shirt* Uh huh. okay. Sure. *pauses judiciously, then posts one of the better photos to Darman’s Instagram* I believe you. 


Another one?


No NO NO Not this scene again


I got chills immediately after the title showed up… Please tell me this is a Zuko only episode..




Oh shit Zuko’s mom


Fucking kids ruining Zuko’s life even more


Yeah… That guy’s gonna die to the Blue Spirit.


Could you feed Zuko too?


Huh. Junior’s- Uhh I mean Zuko’s fake name is Lee so uhh…


Kid fucked up big time..


Why am I tearing up… Everything’s blurry help..


Why is Zuko’s mom so nice.. I swear if she’s dead..


Young Azula’s VA fits way more than Present Azula imo


Azula, you dick.


I’m pretty sure this is the first time we’ve heard Iroh laugh… It’s amazing..


Good on Uncle Iroh for giving Zuko the better item. Azula bout to try to kill Zuko though so.. Wait.. Imagine if the reason Azula acted aggressively to Iroh was because Iroh gave Azula “a new friend”.


O.O Uhh….


I agree 100% Zuko’s mom.


DON’T YOU FUCKING SAY THAT YOU LITTLE SON- daughter? yeah why not.. DAUGHTER OF A BITCH.. wait that’s offending Zuko’s mom… I got nothing..


This episode is great so far.


? What happened?




Zuko is doing a good job trying to dethrone Iroh as best character..


My thoughts exactly


C’mon now this is a flashback show us Ozai!


Whoops my bad was so attached to this episode forgot I had a liveblog.. also it’s blurry..


Welp that’s technically Zuko’s fault.


I can’t recall if that’s the same fighting theme that usually plays or if it’s different..


Still waiting for Zuko to use firebeding…


Everything’s blurry again…


What the fuck kid…


This episode would’ve been a good episode choice to reveal Ozai’s face but fine alright.


…..This episode man… It-.. It’s everything I wanted from a Zuko episode, minus the town hating him in the end. We finally know the complete story to his past in the Fire Nation. I was honestly planning on doing 4 episodes today but with an episode like this? It’s too good and I need to take a moment to sit down and think about this episode..

Chapter 7 get’s the first 10/10

I’ll see you all with Chapter 8 tomorrow.

I’m Not Cheating

Originally posted by parkjaebums

You’ve never seen Hyukwoo so mad as he was right now. His eyes were shooting daggers at you and he was gritting his teeth as he blocked you from entering Jay’s office.

“You can’t see him,” he hissed at you.

Until now you never realized how tall he was nor how wide his shoulders were for you could barely see the interior of Jay’s office through the small window on the door.

You adjusted the straps of your backpack and looked around to ask for help from the people who were watching you being barricaded by the usually gentle Hyukwoo, but they had such severe expressions on their faces and you felt scared for moment.

Keep reading

The Return of the Gobblewonker


Fluffstravaganza commission for @transbirdetta who tumblr won’t let me tag. They wanted some Stan and Dipper bonding fluff. Hope you enjoy!

Thanks as always to @thesnadger for beta-ing, although I feel the need to point out that I came up with a pun in this story All By Myself.


Stan froze at the bottom of the stairs, one hand tightening instinctively around his coffee mug and the other curling into a fist. He cursed inwardly. Which one of them had raised the dead this time? One of the nerds most likely, although he wouldn’t entirely put it past Mabel to do it as an excuse for family bonding.

All right. He’d done this before. Admittedly, he hadn’t been in his underwear then, but there was nothing to be done about that now. He could probably take them by surprise as he entered the kitchen, which would buy him enough time to grab a blunt (or not-so-blunt, depending) implement off the wall. Then grab the kids and either queue up another karaoke song or break out the industrial-sized formaldehyde jug.

Really, the whole thing was just a nuisance.

Keep reading

Mistaken for every other crayon in the box.
  • Person A: Hm. Are you Hispanic? You look Hispanic.
  • Person B: Nah.
  • Person A: Oh, wow. That dark skin and hair...I was pretty sure. Uh...Native American?
  • Person B: Nah.
  • Person A: Your features though? Umm...some type of Asian? Middle Eastern?
  • Person B: I'm Armenian.
  • Person A: Huh? That's strange. As soon as you said that my vision got all blurry and you suddenly became white.
Young & Dumb

Pairing: Draco Malfoy x Harry Potter

AU: Modern, non-magical, high school AU

Word Count: 1155

Written For: myvegansensesaretingling + whoever else asked me about Drarry that one time

Senior Skip Day is a time-honored tradition.

It typically involved lake-house parties and hipster picnics and vodka-spiked lemonade and cotton-candy colored Polaroid cameras—it was all about girls in crocheted bikini tops and boys in plaid swim trunks, slap-happy sunshine summer shenanigans fit for an American Pie montage, really, because graduation was nigh and most people’s standards were officially lower than Death Valley’s average point of elevation.

Like—take Potter, for example.

There he is, overfilled red Solo cup in hand, shuffling his bare feet and scratching awkwardly at the back of his neck, glancing around the beach like he doesn’t know where to go, which—Draco calls bullshit on, honestly, the whole fucking school has a disgustingly huge hero-worship boner for Potter that’s seemingly impervious to the laws of time and space and logic

Draco scowls into his frozen raspberry margarita.

Fuck Potter.


Fuck him, and fuck his stupid rat’s nest hair and his stupid Meg Griffin glasses and his stupid green eyes and his stupid perpetually tan skin and just—just fuck him, seriously.


No, no, not seriously, Jesus, Potter had enough groupies clamoring for his attention and inviting him out for fucking ice cream like their vaginas were the secret Thirty-Second Flavor at Baskin-Robbins; he certainly didn’t need Draco to hurl himself into the fray.

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Okay, so on the 16th, I saw Avan at the Portland airport while I was waiting to board. At first I didn’t think it was him because literally no one else noticed who he was and I had no idea why he was in Portland, (I think he came from LA..but I’m not sure) so I basically just stood there for a couple minutes staring at him, while my hands were shaking because I was scared to approach him. I eventually plucked up the courage to go over to him and this is how our conversation went down!

Me: Hi, sorry to bother you, are you Avan Jogia? (of course I knew it was him but I was still so far in denial that I was actually meeting him that I wanted to make sure it wasn’t some look-alike)

Avan: Yes I am!

Me: Is it alright if I take a photo with you? 

Avan: Of course!

Me: Thank you so much! (we take the photo and I knew it would be blurry because my hands were a lil shaky)

Me: I wasn’t sure if it was you or not so I just ended up staring at you for like 3 minutes *laughs*

Avan: *laughs* yeah, like “is that him? man I don’t know”

Me: Yes, exactly, I was like..huh is that him or nah? 

So after this I thought that he would just walk away and stand somewhere else, but he starts to ask me questions and actually converse with me..which was pretty amazing.

Avan: So what flight are you waiting for? 

Me: ___________ (I’m not gonna say which flight for my own privacy)

Avan: Me too! 

Me: Really? Why are you going to ____________

Avan: Yeah, I live in Vancouver so I’m flying to ___________ and then driving to Vancouver.

Me: Oh, that’s cool, I’ve always wanted to go to Vancouver! Are you going there to film?

Avan: No, I was actually born and raised in Vancouver so I’m just going back home!

Me: Oh, that’s great! I go to college in ___________

Avan: Oh that’s cool, what are you studying?

Me: Sociology, but I’m also interested in Art History, so I think I’ll be minoring in that. 

Avan: I love sociology, I’ve always wanted to take a course in it, I find it so interesting.

Me: Yes, me too! There are a lot of jobs in that field, and I think it’s important to understand society and how we function.

Avan: Yeah, I totally agree. I think it’s essential that we learn about society and how this world really works and why the shit that happens happens ya know? *laughs*

Me: Yes, exactly! 

During this time I was emotionally unstable because I was having an intellectual conversation with Avan Jogia, the actual hottest man I have ever laid eyes on. He is no joke, the sweetest, most genuine person I have ever met. He didn’t act like a celebrity at all, he was so down to earth.

Me: I’m so tired right now, I’ve been traveling since 7am.

Avan: Oh wow really? 

Me: Yeah, I had to come from __________ to Seattle, then to Portland and then finally to __________

Avan: *laughs* no way, that’s crazy. I’ve had weird connecting flights today as well. I just hope we get to board soon…

Me: Yeah, they’re 10 minutes late! 

After this I think we both didn’t really know what to talk about so there was some silence, but eventually I asked for another photo since the first one was blurry. He happily agreed and we took the second photo, but I was still a little shaky so I asked if he could just take the photo, (ok the second one wasn’t blurry but I wanted him to hold my phone lmao) and he said “yeah of course, here let me take off my hat!”.

Me: Yay, thank you so much! (yeah…I actually said YAY!!! ugh..whatever I’m proud of myself that that was the only dumb thing I said to him) 

Avan: Oh, it looks like we can start boarding now!

Me: Oh yeah, great! What’s in that? (I was pointing to a very tiny brief case in his hand) do you not have any luggage?

Avan: Oh I do, it’s just checked luggage, there are just little things in here. 

Me: Ahh okay, yeah I have 2 checked bags myself…I just hope they don’t get lost or something.

Avan: Me too! I’m always worried about losing my luggage. 

After this, I let him go ahead of me and literally…this was the best part of the entire interaction for me. He turns around after he got his ticket scanned and said, with a smile I might add, “hey, I’ll see you on the plane!” I just stood there and said, “yeah, see ya!” As if we were friends or something and this was a normal thing to say.GOSH it was amazing.

So then I follow him onto the plane and he’s sitting 3 rows behind me…so close but so far away lmao. The entire plane ride I just sat there going over everything that had just happened in my head. So umm…yeah it was basically the best way to end an exhausting day of travel. 

Lastly, in case anyone is wondering what he really looks like in person….he’s about 5'10 (I’m 5'6), has the best hair I’ve probably ever seen on a man, and the most beautiful eyes. He was wearing grey skinny jeans, black chelsea boots, a long grey hat, and a large hat. He was dressed so well I was jealous. Anyway…here’s the photo of us! :) 

(first, THANKS YOU SO MUCH FOR TAKE YOUR TIME AND WRITE THIS, second, YOU BOTH ARE SOOOOOO PRETTY, third IM SUPER JEALOUS AND GLAD TO KNOW HE IS A SWEETHEART (I mean I knew he was a sweetheart but is cool to read this) and fourth, THANKS YOU AGAIN, you are really nice amd I’m really glad your travel was awesome :)

TRUE ROMANCE: II + Book 2 of Soul Mate

Summary: What if second chances did exist…except in another lifetime?

A/N: I’m so glad you guys are loving True Romance already! I’ll admit, I’m aiming to make it really cute/romantic…so if you aren’t that kind of person then I’m really sorry! This is a modern AU after all…

Warning: None.

Word Count: 3.1K+


Being woken up to the sound of thunder, you nearly fell off the couch as your heart began to race, standing up from your seat as you stretched. “2:30 already?” You yawned, shutting off the television before realizing Astro had fallen asleep next to you. As much as you enjoyed waking up to a sleeping pup, the feeling of wanting to wake up to someone else crept up on you, the desire of having someone else with you. Why the sudden urge?

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Winchester brothers-Invisible Part 5

Title:Invisible Part 5

Pairings: Winchester brothers x reader, Bobby x reader

Word count:1076

Request:Dude, you’ve got to keep writing this, please

Request:Hey! Love this your an amazing writer!! Can you please make another part to invisible and your safe now? Thanks :)

The machine was the only thing to be heard. The loud single beeps that followed by a eary silence as they started at your ashen complexion. Your skin was no longer it’s normal natural complexion but now cadaverous.

Tubes of transparent thick liquid entered through your nose and another down your throat. Tubes that kept you alive, kept you breathing. It was hard for them to see a machine being the only thing that was stuck in the middle of the void of life and death.

A machine being the only thing to stop the core from snapping. Like a thin string, ruffled to the touch ready to snap but a tube was coated around the string, so it was stopping the string from getting any more damage.

No one knew if the string would break.

Your body lay flat, back on the frumpy mattress to which had caused a stir from Dean as he stood emotionless beside your bead, fingers skimming over yours.

‘’She hates lying on her back’’Dean whispered, voice barely audible as he glared at the ticking machine. Sam looked up form his position in the plastic uncomfortable chair that bent his back into a way his spine didn’t belong in.

Sam winced every time he moved but refused to leave your side as he grasped your fingers gently into his own.

‘’I know, Dean. I know’’Sam nodded, reasoning with Dean’s pain. Dean had offered to go get the coffee since Sam had a small fear of going to get coffee in case the same situation happened when he would come back and you would be dead just your dad was.

A small creaking sound sounded as Bobby slipped through the door, Red hair shining in the light, old cap ruffled on the outer rim and shoved down as far as he could get it. The colours were faded and letters fraid and torn but this was your favourite hat of Bobby’s so he wore it a lot now.

‘’I’ve got it’’Bobby mumbled, eyes unconsciously checking to see if anyone was listening. Years of experience leaving him paranoid. Bobby pulled out the thick transparent tube when he noticed no one was looking. He frowned, the corners of his lips twitching downwards forcefully as he cringed when Sam pulled a few hairs out of your head.

Dean glared at Sam, hand reaching out to smooth back down the spot where the hairs had been taken from. Sam sighed, flashing Dean a sympathetic look. ‘’Dean, she’s gonna be okay. But only of we do this’’.

Dean sighed, broad hands rubbing his tired eyes as he nodded and plucked a tube out of Bobby’s hand before cringing and knocking his glass against the others.

‘’Cheers’’He grimaced as they all took that as a sign to knock it back. They coughed ans spluttered, choking or gagging a bit on the hair since you were a girl so you didn’t have hair like theirs.

They rushed over to the chairs, sitting in them to make sure they knocked out in their original positions, other wise the nurses would probably think you were contagious and gave them all something to make them drop to the floor.

Sam’s head dropped, chin pressing into his chest as his eyes fluttered closed. His hands were either side of the arms on the chair and looked peacefully asleep.

Dean was curled up beside you since he was originally standing by your beside and Bobby had taken the last chair at the end of the room.


‘’Huh?! Ughh’’

Grunts and groans were bouncing off into echo’s as the three men sat up, rubbing their eyes to push away the blurry vision. Dean coughed before swallowing thickly, eyes squinting to make out where he was.

‘’Where in the Impala’’Sam muttered, eyes squinting to before he looked around to make sure Bobby was okay. Bobby sat upright, elbows resting on either side of their chairs as his hands hung in the void.

‘’You Idgits okay?’’Bobby questioned, same thoughts on his mind as Sam. Both brothers nodded, dean still in a fowl mood as he swung the Impala door open.

‘’Well at least she dreams about the Impala. ‘’Dean grumbled trying to keep some of his humour remained. Sam smiled softly, laughing through his nose as he got out too.

‘’What is this place?’’Sam questioned, looking above him as he shivered at the formidable obscure sky. There were no stars, no light, no nothing. Every thing was colourless, black every where. The cold air nipped at their skin, shivers running down their spines as they constantly felt things staring at them from behind.

Ruffling sounds and running sounds followed as they all looked at each others.

‘’Her head’’Bobby mumbled, gulping as he looked at what he could only describe as another hell.

‘’Let’s just do this and get out of here. This place is giving me the creeps’’Dean shivered, eyes closing in discomfort.

‘’Exactly. Dean, this is in her head. No wonder something’s got her, her mind is practically a home for supernatural creatures’’Sam yelped out, sighing at the thought.

‘’Why didn’t she tell us?’’Dean growled angrily, more at himself than you. He was angry he didn’t spot it and angry you still didn’t feel comfortable enough to tell them.

‘’She only just got you back, she was probably scared she’d lose you again if she told you’’Bobby explained, smiled gently before ushering them along.

‘’We get that, Bobby. You think we don’t feel like crap for what we did to her before?!.’’Dean growled, hands balling up in Bobby’s shirt.

‘’Boy you get your hands off me right now! I know you’re worried about your sister, but that doesn’t mean you have the right to lash out on everyone else. We’re all worried. I’m worried, Sam’s worried. (Y/n) isn’t just something to you, she means a lot to all of us. Hell even fricking Gabriel is worried about her!’’Bobby raged.

Dean froze, looking at his hands in shock before nodding softly and letting go of Bobby’s shirt. ‘’i’m sorry, Bobby’’Dean apologised, grumbling as he started to tread along the dirty path were the tall oak tree’s stood.

‘’I know you are, Dean. We’re going to help her’’Bobby encouraged, nodding.

‘’We are, I know we are.’’Sam added, clapping Dean on the back as he and Bobby followed Dean along the dirt path to God knows where.

‘’C’mon, let’s go see what’s hurting your sister’’

Sam Wilkinson - First love

Request:  Can u write a fanfic about how y/n was in the Omaha group and the boys knew u really well but u and the boys went ur own ways after high school and you’ve always had big crush on Sam and he has too and all the boys knew about it …. And that y/n was a famous viner so they finally saw u at some red carpet award and that’s where u and Sam started to hit it off


“It’s funny, guys, to think back to this time. To answer the question, yes, I know Nate, Sam and the Jacks. Or what you prefer to say, I used to be part of the Omaha squad. I was more likely to be around Nate and Sam, but the thing is, that we haven’t talked in a while,” I said looking into the camera.

I was doing my usual, weekly YouNow, and the fans were asking about the guys since a few days ago an old photo got out to the internet.

I was good friends with them but then I had to move to my dad a few years ago and it was hard to stay in touch. We kinda became famous in the same time, but after I moved we lost contact so it happened to us separately. I missed them, especially Sam. I may had had a crush on him since like, eighth grade, but since we hadn’t met in ages, I didn’t even have the chance to see him so it kinda started to fade. But I was sure if I had the chance to see him I would feel the same.

I focused back on the questions.

“So you guys are curious if I want to reunite with them. Of course I want to, and I may know that they will be at the TCA tomorrow, so I guess I will see them. It would be funny if they didn’t recognize me,” I said laughing at myself. I changed a lot since we last met, I dyed my hair and it was now shorter, and I also had a nose ring.

I talked a bit more, but I didn’t answer more questions about the guys. People were asking me about who I liked the most and things like this, it was a bit awkward.

“Okay, guys, I’ll see you tomorrow at the TCA, be good, goodnight!”

I loved talking to my fans. When I started Vining I didn’t know I would be this popular, but then people were interested in my Vines, and I quickly became one of the most popular viners. It was my first red carpet thing, and I was very excited. And the fact that the boys will be there added more to my mixed feelings.

My beauty squad made sure that I looked perfect. I had a gorgeous dress on and my makeup was amazing. When I sat into the taxi I started to feel a knot in my stomach. I didn’t realize it was because of the guys until I arrived and I first saw them. They were already on the carpet posing for the cameras, looking hot and perfect. Sam got so handsome, my knees started to shake as I was watching him while I waited for the car door to open.

Then a suited man opened it for me and it was time to get out and, as my beauty squad says, shine!

It is hard to explain what exactly happened, because the next few minutes were a bit blurry. I carefully got out of the car, a woman helped me to fix my dress and then I saw the flashlights and I heard people shouting, but the next thing I knew was that Sam and Nate literally jumped on me.

“Y/N!” they screamed, while I was trying to catch my breath.

“Hey guys, didn’t see you in a while, huh?” I said as they pulled away. The cameras were flashing at us, making sure they didn’t miss anything from our reunion.

“You look gorgeous!” Sam said looking at me. He was so tall, I still had to look up at him even though I had high heels on.

But his comment instantly made me blush, and I knew I felt the same. Time couldn’t make me forget how amazing guy he was.

“You look good too, guys!” I said smiling at them and hoping they wouldn’t notice my red face.

“Where do you sit?” Nate asked me.

“Uhm, I think 21st line.”

“No way, we sit there too!” Sam said grinning at me.

“Come on, we should pose together!” Nate suggested and we did so.

The media loved our little reunion. Everyone wanted a photo of the three of us and It was so good that I didn’t have to stand there alone.

Also I was afraid I would do something awkward in front of Sammy, but fortunately I survived it and we got to our seats safely.

We still had some time until the show and slowly everyone arrived. The Jacks, Hayes, Nash and Cameron. I already knew some of them but it was good to see people I had heard so much of.

“So tell me, do you still have a crush on Sam?” Johnson asked me while everyone was chatting with someone. I looked at him with wide eyes.

“What? I don’t have a crush on him!” I said laughing awkwardly.

“Oh, don’t bullshit me, I always knew about it.”

“Damn it Johnson, you are too good,” I said rolling my eyes.

“How come you two have never dated?” he asked furrowing his eyebrows.

“Because I haven’t seen him for ages and maybe he is not into me?” I answered him with a rhetorical question.

“Are you kidding me? You were like his first love, Y/N, he wouldn’t shut up about you when you were living in Omaha.”

I couldn’t believe what he just told me. Was this true or was he just joking?

“Are you serious, Jack? Because it’s a stupid joke, it’s not funny.”

“I’m dead serious. Everyone knew it, he was just too chicken to ask you out, and then you moved. I don’t know if he feels the same though,” he said shrugging.

“You need to ask,” I said immediately. If there was a chance Sam still liked, or better, loved me, I had to know it.

“What? I’m not cupid, why don’t you ask him?”

“Because no! Johnson, please, do this for me! I will owe you one!” I said hoping he would change his mind.

“No, you are a grown up woman, you need to ask him!”

“Ask who and what?” I heard Sam. He was standing next to us smiling and then sat down next to me.

“See? Here is the opportunity. I’ll leave you two,” Johnson said and then turned away from us. Sam looked at me with a curious face. Johnson was right, it was a good time to clear things out.

“Sam, is that true that I… that I was your first love?” I asked a bit quieter so no one else would hear us. He gulped and keeping his eyes down nodded.

“Uh, yeah, why do you ask? And how do you know it?” he asked still avoiding my eyes.

“Johnson just told me. Why didn’t you ask me out when I was living in Omaha?”

“I don’t know, we were like, sixteen years old, you were so mature and everything, I thought you would never go out with me,” he said laughing bitterly.

“I would have,” I replied. He finally looked at me, surprised.


“Yeah. Can I ask you another question?”


“Do you… I mean, do you feel the same… like, now?” I felt like we were in high school again. I was so nervous that we were talking about that.

“It’s hard, because we haven’t met in a while, but to be honest, when I saw you tonight earlier, I still felt a knot in my stomach. So I would say yes.”

He looked up at me like a little boy, waiting for my reaction.

“I’m glad you said that,” I told him smiling. “Maybe we could meet sometimes after this. I’m staying here for a few more days.”

“Did you just ask me out?” he asked chuckling. “Because it’s a bit awkward, I thought I would do it myself sometime in the future.”

“Then do it!” I said suddenly.


“Ask me out! I promise I will say yes.”

“Alright,” he said taking a deep breath. “Would you go on a date with me, Y/N?” he asked solemnly.

“Yes, I would,” I said leaning closer to him and kissing his cheek. And he blushed! It was so adorable.

“Thank God, you really said yes,” he sighed.

“Of course I did. I was waiting for this since I was fourteen,” I admitted shyly.

“Then we have a lot to catch up on,” he said smiling at me and lacing his fingers together with mine.

ONS Chapter 39 English Summary

So I don’t actually have the physical volume yet as it comes out on the 4th in Japan.  But, I saw the spoilers and soon found myself translating them.  It looks like pretty much the whole chapter can be found in the spoilers tag. Her’s a summary of what happens overall/what I’m able to translate for those who can’t wait. (like me…) Also, This chapter just pisses me off on so many levels. Actually, all that anger stems from 1 character this chapter…I’ll do my best to keep this strictly informational and not turn it into a rant, but no promises.

Disclaimer: I’m by no means fluent in Japanese and still make a lot of mistakes, so I can’t guarentee everything

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anonymous asked:

oh my god I loved your stuttering Bruce can you do more on that please please it gave me so many feels and just gah poor bruce

You want more stutter Bruce?

I can definitely do that for you.

Psychosomatic, his therapist had murmured, tut-tutting as they wrote down the diagnoses on their clipboard. It’s all about how you think, Bruce. You have to allow yourself to speak.

Bruce had always thought his childhood therapist had been a bit of a crack-job, mostly because he didn’t understand what psychosomatic really meant. The idea that he didn’t really have a stutter, that the abuse he went through as a child is what perpetuated it, was absolutely absurd. He’d thought he was over that—Suppressing emotions is not the same as dealing with them—he’d gotten himself into a better place and all he’d wanted was his stutter to be gone. But they’d told him it was his fault, that the perceived stress, the trauma, the nightmares, the PTSD—it was all weighing on him, and his brain couldn’t filter out the stutter with all that other garbage weighing it down.

What glee he’d felt when it was gone. When he’d broken through whatever kept his voice from staying level, whatever kept him from being normal, he’d be consumed by the absolute elation, because now he could speak and not feel as though a phantom hand was weighting to grab his hair and beat him to a bloody pulp.

But now that it had come back, he could do nothing but keep his mouth shut and retreat into himself, sit for long hours in his room, lock down his lab, repeat and repeat and repeat his phrase, holding back rage with each new failure.

‘H-h-he thr-us-us-sts—’ 'He thr-thr-thrusts-s-s-s—’ ’H-he—he th-th-thrusts—!’

And he’d punch a wall in his room, breaking through the plaster, or he’d shatter a piece of equipment in his lab, burning up with rage—but that green wouldn’t cover his eyes, wouldn’t haze his rage. He’d feel every moment of it, because even the Hulk didn’t want to come near these feelings, this fear, this anger—it was solely reserved for Bruce.

And one day he’d sit with his hands in his lap, forcing the words past his lips, slowly, carefully, still stammering and breaking apart syllables, still curving his lips down in a scowling snarl, when he’d hear the door to his lab open, and in would come Tony, grinning his usual grin, strutting his usual strut, and he’d look to Bruce, sitting on the small couch in the corner of his lab, and he’d raise a brow at him. ‘You good over there, Broken Record? You’ve been hiding away a lot lately.’ 

And Bruce would shrivel up, grip his knees tight in white knuckled hands and pull them to his chest. ‘G-g-go aw-w-w-way,’ he’d stammer, not looking towards his teammate, his friend, and Tony would make a surprised noise. ‘Ah, Bruce, I’m just playin’, come o—’ And Bruce would say it louder, angrier, hands turned to fists. ‘G-g-get-t out!’ And he’d bite out the last word with so much rage, so much pain, that when he’d look up at Tony with burning eyes the genius would back away, nodding, holding out his hands. ‘Alright, I’ll…I’ll let you cool off for a minute,’ and he’d leave in a hurry, feeling guilty, but nothing compared to what Bruce was feeling.

Because Bruce would feel hurt, infinitely hurt and broken and bruised, he’d feel like he was sitting outside after a day of torment at school, waiting for his aunt to come get him, a new black eye added to his list of injuries, because he was a geek, a loser, that stammering know-it-all who thought he was better than everyone, and the people who passed him would sneer, or avoid looking at him, and he’d feel so alone, so small, so empty. And that feeling would build and build, water filling him, cold and heavy, from the pit of his stomach, up his throat, choking him until it poured from his mouth in sudden, broken sobs.

And he’d still be in his lab, but all at once he wouldn’t be, he’d be in his old house, with his father looming over him, and at his school, with a bully laughing at him where he fell, and he’d curl so small in on himself that he’d almost pop, before those sobs turned to snarls, those snarls turned to action, and suddenly he would be up and ripping apart his lab, tearing down monitors and breaking glass beakers and shattering expensive equipment, but he didn’t care, didn’t care, because he was hurting, and alone, and fighting to scream because even guttural sobs came out broken and disconnected.

And he’d slam his fist into the stone wall and crumple to the floor in a heap, breathing heavy, hard, shuttering gasps, and he’d cradle bloody knuckles to his chest as he fought to calm himself down.

And he’d sit there for ages, forehead pressed against the wall, tears streaming down his flushed face, hands shaking and bleeding; and he’d try and stutter out his phrase, try to smooth himself into alignment, and fail.

'He thr-thr-thrusts h-h-i-i-s-s-s f-f-f-f-’ He’d gasp for breath, grit his teeth. 'F-f-fist a-a-again-n-nst the po-po-pos-s-st—’ and he’d break off, sobbing, thump his head against the wall.

'And still insist he sees the ghost,’ he’d hear from behind him, soft and careful, and a moment later someone would sit down beside his hunched, kneeling figure, looking at him with thoughtful eyes and a frown on his face.

'C-c-c-clint?’ He wouldn’t turn to look—he’d know, of course he’d know, and he’d hunch his shoulders further around himself, trying to calm his broken sobs.

'Yeah, it’s me. I love that book, you know. IT? Futzin’ scary, man.’ And Bruce would peek over at him, eyes blurry with tears, and Clint would give him a watery smile. 'Real cool guy, that stutterin’ dude, totally kicked that monsters ass.’ When Bruce didn’t reply, he’d go on. 'You know, it ain’t so bad, right? I mean, I’m sure it futzin’ sucks, stuttering and shit, but I don’t think it’s too bad. Hardly notice it sometimes.’ He’d smile, reach out to where Bruce still cradled his bloody knuckles. 'Hulk don’t come out cause he’s scared, huh? Cause that fear gas is what did this, right?’

Bruce would swallow, nod, turn a bit more towards Clint as the archer gently rubbed away the worst of the crimson staining his hands. ‘You know, I get it. I used to be mute—after I got this thing—’ And he’d tap that little piece of plastic, like he had last time, looking rueful. ‘I didn’t talk for so long they thought I forgot how. Sometimes, when shit gets real bad, I stop talkin’ completely—just go real quiet and don’t say a damn word. I don’t like it, cause I feel like I can’t talk, you know? Like maybe I really will forget how. Scary stuff, not being able to talk.’

But then he’d lift his hand and spread his fingers, press his pointer to his chin, and tap thrice. 'Talk’.

And Bruce’s eyes would widen slightly, tears forgotten, pained hands forgotten, and he’d break into a small, surprised smile. Of course Clint knew ASL—he was hearing-impaired! But Bruce hadn’t used sign language in ages, and Clint would smile when he’d try to reply, fix his hands, a bit, and chuckle.

'Good job. I’ll help you more.’ And Bruce would shake his head. ‘Not so good.’ ‘No, very good!’ And his smile would be watery, his eyes rimmed red, and they’d sit together in the mess of Bruce’s destruction, signing together, Clint gentle and sweet as he helped Bruce in places he’d forgotten, and Bruce would feel so much better, so much happier, because he could speak, if not out loud then in general. And when the hour drew so late even Bruce was yawning, Clint would grip both of Bruce’s hands and kiss his bruised and bloody knuckles, looking up at his scientist with intense eyes before he’d reach out to grip Bruce’s chin, pulling him in for a real kiss.

'Your stutter doesn’t define you, Bruce,’ would be what he’d murmur, before he’d lead a blushing Bruce out of the destroyed lab and to his own floor, giving him one last goodnight kisses before signing a quick goodnight and letting him get his sleep.

Bruce didn’t sleep at all that night—the memory of gentle lips on his haunted him well into the dawn.

vectorshadows  asked:

*teleports to your location and looks around the area* I'm sure I- sensed her somewhere. It must be her. *keeps walking until she catches something on the ground* Huh? *looks down*

*she’s on the ground unable to move and she’s barely looking up; her vision is blurry so she can’t recognize the figure* A-And… W-Who i-is that?… W-Who a-are you?… w-what d-do you want?!… *she makes a expression of utter fear* 

chxngsey  asked:

okok let's go with dialogue #7 with matsuhana! (there were so many good options tho)

…oh boy, I escalated. Big time.

The music is too loud.

Matsukawa isn’t the biggest fan of clubs in the first place – they’re hot and cramped, there’s barely any conversation at all – and at this particular club, the tall chairs and tables are few and far between, and for some reason they’re all sticky.

But most of all, it’s the noise that bothers him.

He knows Hanamaki likes to come here because it helps him relax – something about hating the silence at home (Matsukawa doesn’t really dare ask, most of the time. He knows Makki has it rough and is counting the days until he’s saved enough money to get out of there) – and because Matsukawa likes to think he’s generally a decent person to his friends and a decent partner to his boyfriend, he tags along more often than not. He’ll be the designated driver, watch his group of idiots drink and dance and have fun, and make sure they all get back home safe at the end of the day.

It’s not all bad, really – he usually ends up enjoying himself as well, especially since Makki is easy to keep up with, for him, even when he’s a little tipsy, and Oikawa barely drinks at all when he goes dancing – but today, the noise feels more pressing than usual, and Matsukawa just really wants to go home.

He leans against the table – a rickety thing that doesn’t look like it should be able to support his weight – and lets his gaze sweep the room, trying to keep track of the people in his charge. Oikawa is dancing (of course), surrounded by guys and girls alike, always in the middle of things, always bright and infectious. Matsukawa is sure it must be tiring, but Oikawa seems to be enjoying himself well enough.

Ah, but Iwaizumi, on the other hand…

Matsukawa sees him approaching from over at the bar, a half-empty glass of whiskey in his hand. He joins Matsukawa at his table without comment, and downs the rest of the glass in one go.

“…rough night?” Matsukawa asks, well-aware that his voice isn’t carrying over the thump-thump-thump of the beat. Iwaizumi seems to catch the sentiment, though, because he glances over to where Oikawa is a scowls.

“Stupid idiot,” he says.

Matsukawa smiles a little, and Iwaizumi throws him a look that says don’t you dare.

“No comment,” Matsukawa says.

Iwaizumi glares at him again for good measure, then slams his glass down on the table and walks away, not nearly as calm as he would like to seem (the hard set of his shoulders doesn’t fool Matsukawa for a second).

Always with the pining. Sometimes he wishes his idiot friends weren’t quite as dumb and blind to each other.

Oikawa sees Iwaizumi approaching, and his entire face lights up. He waves, disentangling himself from the people around him and weaving his way over to his friend.

Matsukawa wonders how long it’ll be before one of them finally cracks. Although it doesn’t really matter – he’s already lost the bet he had going with Hanamaki. He’d been sure they’d get together before graduation.

He eyes Iwaizumi’s empty glass and sighs, not for the first time that evening. Then his eyes search the room again, easily locating the pink head of hair that belongs to his boyfriend. He’s closer than anticipated, and moves towards him when their gazes meet. Somehow, Matsukawa gets the feeling that Hanamaki has been watching him.

“Hey, hey,” he says when Hanamaki stands beside him. He looks a little more worn-out that he did at first glance. “Everything alright?”

Hanamaki frowns. Something’s off, and it doesn’t take Matsukawa very long to find out what it is: He’s not holding his gaze.

“Had a couple shots too many, huh?”

Hanamaki shakes his head.

“…you can’t even look at me, idiot. Don’t try to fool me. You’re really drunk right now.”

“No I’m not, you’re just blurry.”

Matsukawa grins. “Sure. Maybe take it slow for a while? You’re gonna have a huge headache tomorrow.”

Hanamaki flips him off, and Matsukawa chuckles.

“If you wanna leave, just say the word.”


Hanamaki bites his lip and closes his eyes – the dizziness is probably tiring. But then he opens them again and fixes his gaze on Matsukawa.

“What were you talking about with the Captain’s husband?”

Matsukawa snorts. “Stupid idiot,” he says, in his best Iwaizumi impression. (Well, maybe not his best. It’s too loud for the real intimidating Iwa-chan voice that can make even Oikawa shudder.)

“You’re sure you weren’t fl-” Hanamaki hiccups, shoulders jolting a little, “flirting with him, Mattsun?”

Matsukawa rolls his eyes. “Positive. You know I only have eyes for you, Hiro.”

Drunk Hanamaki gets a little insecure. Not that that’s really new to Matsukawa.

“B-but you were- he was- staring at you!”

Matsukawa gives him a deadpan stare, even though the nuance is probably lost on him now. “You mean glaring. He was staring at Oikawa. Get one drink in Iwaizumi and he loses all self-control, and Oikawa fucking knows it.”

His eyes flit over to where the two idiots in question are, a little too far apart to be actually dancing together (God forbid, they have their heads so far up their asses that they’re both totally convinced their feelings are unrequited, even though anyone with eyes can see the obvious tension between them). Oikawa is rocking his hips in time with the music (it’s kind of annoying how natural it looks, effortless) and Iwaizumi is just a tad out of synch, evidently distracted by his childhood friend - and by the guy who is not-so-subtly sliding up to him on his other side.

Oikawa doesn’t look too bothered at first – he flashes a smile, the practiced one, the dazzling one, and the guy moves closer, fingers brushing over Oikawa’s arm and then down to his waist-

Iwaizumi moves faster than Matsukawa would have thought possible, closing the distance between himself and Oikawa instantly and tugging at his hip to spin the both around, firmly placing himself between Oikawa and the guy who’d been advancing on him.

Oikawa gasps and looks up in surprise, but then he giggles – fucking giggles – and moves his arms up to rest on Iwaizumi’s shoulders, fingers lacing together behind his head. His mouth moves, but Matsukawa is too far away (and it’s too damn loud) to hear what he’s saying. He recognizes the signature way Oikawa’s lips shape the name, Iwa-chan, but the rest of it is unintelligible. Whatever it was, Iwaizumi responds by blushing furiously and telling him to Shut up! – but he doesn’t let him go, and Oikawa seems to be very, very okay with that.

Matsukawa sighs, turning his attention back to the man in front of him, who has his arms crossed in front of him and his lips pulled up into a pout.

“You’re s-staring, Mattsun!”

Oh, what did he do to deserve being the babysitter tonight?

“Of course I am. I gotta keep those two out of trouble. But by the looks of it, we might see the end of the pining soon.” He sighs again. “…and the beginning of the insufferable mess that is Happy Oikawa.”

He just really, really wants to go home – but he can’t very well leave his idiots here by themselves. Someone needs to make sure that they don’t do something they’ll regret.

“You don’t have to lie to me, Issei.”

It’s not the tone of voice that makes him flinch and turn to face Hanamaki fully in alarm – it’s the name. Issei.


“I said you don’t have to lie!” Hanamaki blurts, and there’s hurt and anger in his expression now.

“…Hiro, what are you talking ab-”

“I know you like him,” he says, cutting Matsukawa off.


He stares at Hanamaki with wide eyes.

“Iwaizumi. You still like him. I know I’m… just the replacement for you. You don’t have to pretend.”

Matsukawa blinks, several times, trying to process this.

“…Hiro,” he says finally, “where is this coming from?”

Hanamaki makes an impatient, annoyed sound and starts to turn away, back towards the bar-

Matsukawa snaps out of it, grabbing him by the arm and turning him back around to face him.


“Listen,” Matsukawa says, tightening his grip. “You’re drunk, you’re upset, and I have no idea what you’re talking about – but if you’re saying what I think you’re saying, then we need to talk about this. Properly. When you’re sober.”

Hanamaki tries to twist out of his grip, but Matsukawa refuses to let go.

“We’re going home, Hiro. Now.”

“No!” Hanamaki snaps, “I don’t want to! I don’t wanna talk about it, I don’t wanna think about it! I came here to have fun, Mattsun, not to have another problem thrown in my face!”

“There’s no problem, Hiro. You need to calm down.”

He’s aware that they’re causing a fuss, people are starting to stare because there’s obviously something wrong-

“Yahoo, Mattsun, Makki-chan!”

Always with impeccable timing, Oikawa saunters over to where they’re standing, with Iwaizumi following close behind.

“What’s all this?” Oikawa asks, and Hanamaki groans.

“Just great.”

Iwaizumi seems to perk up at his tone of voice, looking between Matsukawa and Hanamaki with a frown. “Are you guys okay?”

“No thanks to you,” Hanamaki spits, and Matsukawa turns to him in shock.

“Hiro, what is wrong with you?! We’re going home, right now.”

“Why don’t you just go,” Hanamaki says, angry tears in his eyes now. “It’s only a matter of time before you leave me anyway, might as well get it over with!”

And he turns around and stalks off, carelessly bumping into a girl who isn’t quick enough to jump out of his way.

Matsukawa takes off after him immediately, but he doesn’t get very far, because there’s suddenly two people grabbing his arms and holding him back. He throws a glare at his friends, ready to yell at them to let him go, but then he sees Oikawa’s expression. It’s… calm. Almost eerily so.

“I’ll handle this, Mattsun.” And then, to Iwaizumi: “Make sure he doesn’t do anything stupid, Iwa-chan.”

And with that, Oikawa is gone too, maneuvering his way through the pulsating mass of bodies expertly.

Matsukawa admits defeat and stops resisting, and Iwaizumi drops his arm.

“C’mon. Let’s wait outside. It’s way too loud in here,” the former ace says, and Matsukawa couldn’t agree more.


They stand outside, the cool night air tugging at their coats, and the silence between them is awkward for about twenty seconds, right until Iwaizumi turns and says: “…what was that all about?”

Then it becomes incredibly awkward.

“Oh. Uhm. Just… some unresolved issue.”

“…you knew he was upset, and you let him get this drunk?”

Sometimes Matsukawa forgets how perceptive Iwaizumi can be, in his own right. Damn.

“Well… no. I knew he’s been having it rough at home, but this is his way of letting go. So of course I wasn’t gonna stop him-”

“Not what I meant.”

Matsukawa can’t hold his gaze. “I know.”


“…I didn’t know that… this was still something that bothered him.”

He can feel Iwaizumi staring at him, like his eyes are digging holes into the side of his face.

“Look, Matsukawa,” he says, and when Matsukawa doesn’t raise his eyes from the ground he grabs his arm and forces him to turn towards him. “I may have had more to drink than you today but that doesn’t make me stupid.”

Matsukawa can’t help but laugh a little. “No. You’re an emotional drunk, Iwaizumi.”

Iwaizumi scoffs. “Maybe. But I’m not drunk. I can’t afford that, not with Shittykawa running around the way he is. Hell, he probably got chatted up by some girl already-”

“No, he didn’t,” Matsukawa snaps, suddenly impatient. “He’s a flirt but he’s got his priorities right. He’ll find Hiro. And he’ll never seriously consider any of those girls or guys if you’re still available.”

He regrets the words the second he says them, and Iwaizumi stiffens beside him.

“…sorry,” he mumbles, hating himself.

“No, it’s- …you’re probably not wrong,” Iwaizumi says.

That startles Matsukawa enough to look up at him.

“So you do know!”

Iwaizumi sighs, and – holy hell, he’s blushing. Incredible.

“…of course I know. I’m not blind. But that’s not… that’s not the point. We’re not talking about Oikawa. This is about you and Hanamaki.”

Matsukawa stares at him for a moment, allowing what he just heard to sink in. He makes a mental not to tell Makki about this immediately – and then stops. Makki. Right.


“Why is he so upset? And why does he think you’ll leave him? You’re – are you guys okay?”

Matsukawa sighs. He’d thought he was done with this a long time ago.

“…yeah. Hiro is just… worried about something that’s long over.”

Something I didn’t wanna bring up again. No point in unnecessarily making things complicated now that it’s not relevant anymore, anyway.

“…can I ask about what?”

His politeness almost surprises Matsukawa a little.

“It’s not… it’s not like that anymore,” he says, aware that he’s not making any sense at all.

Iwaizumi just watches him, waiting. Ah, hell.

“I used to… have a crush on someone else. A long time ago. It’s honestly not a big deal, and I swear I’m over it. Hiro knows that. I didn’t… I didn’t think he was still worried about it.”

“…did you…”

Iwaizumi clears his throat, and Matsukawa is pretty sure that despite the relative darkness around them he can see a slight blush creeping up his neck.

“Did you have a crush on this other person when you two got together?”

Matsukawa bites his lip. Spot-on.

He doesn’t even need to say it, Iwaizumi seems to be able to read it in his expression.

“And did you tell this person?”

Matsukawa shakes his head. Of course not. There was no point, and he’d started falling hard and fast for Hiro anyway-

“You’re an idiot. Of course Hanamaki is still worried about that.”

Matsukawa blinks, startled. “What? Why?”

Iwaizumi gives him the look he usually reserves for Oikawa when he’s being particularly stupid. “Because there was no closure. He’s probably terrified that you’re never going to be able to see him properly because some part of you is still attached to this other person.”

“But- it’s not like that, I love-”

He stops, because oh.

He’s never said that out loud before, he realizes. Not once. Not to Hiro directly.

Oh, shit.

“…I fucked up, didn’t I.”

Iwaizumi exhales exasperatedly. “Nothing that can’t be fixed.”

“…you know, you’re surprisingly really insightful.”

He means it as a compliment, but he’s well aware right as he’s saying it that it sure as hell doesn’t sound like one.

Iwaizumi just scoffs. “Why am I friends with you.”

“Good question. You’re too good for any of us, Iwa-chan.”

They both turn to see Oikawa stepping up beside them, grinning stupidly even as he shivers without his jacket. Iwaizumi makes an impatient noise and hands him one of the jackets he’s holding. Then he turns to Hanamaki, hovering behind Oikawa and refusing eye contact.

“…are you-”

“Let’s go home,” Hanamaki says, grabbing his own jacket from Iwaizumi’s hand.

“…okay,” Matsukawa says. Hanamaki doesn’t look up.

He leads the other three across the road and into one of the little side streets where his car is parked, pulling his keys out of his pocket while he walks. He can hear Oikawa and Iwaizumi bickering softly (“Iwa-chan, I’m cold!” – “I told you to bring your scarf, idiot, but you wouldn’t listen!” – “It didn’t go with the outfit!” – “…you deserve to freeze to death.”), and instinctively turns to where Makki usually is, right beside him – only he isn’t, this time. He’s walking behind Iwaizumi and Oikawa, as far away from Matsukawa as he can possibly be.

Matsukawa sighs, for what feels like the millionth time by now.

They reach the car and Iwaizumi and Oikawa pile into the back seat, leaving a very disgruntled-looking Hanamaki to take the front seat next to Matsukawa. Just great. It’s going to be a long ride.


All of this is your fault, I hope you know that.

This is on Ao3 too now because I’m making it a multichapter thing. So… go check it out there if you want the contiuation. (Damn you.)

I have several more prompts queued up and I am writing all of them. You’ll be seeing a lot of me. If you want even more: HERE is the list, send me a ship.

I’m going on a rant about this picture because tbh I love it, hands down my favourite picture I’ve ever taken.. Weird huh? It’s a little blurry in some parts and nothing’s really crazy or exiting but if you were to guess how long it took me to take this one picture you’d be wrong.. 1 hour, it’s took me one full hour to take this picture I made sure a Mexican blanket was in it (if you don’t know me I love Mexican blankets) my favourite pillow, I’m sitting on my bed which is my favourite place to be, the red light placed behind me is a warm colour but the colours around me are cold and dark representing the mood I’m trying to capture that even though people get sad (the dark cold) there will be happiness (warmth) in the middle, and that’s why this is my favourite picture I’ve ever taken because even though it’s not great or super but it has a story that only I knew up until now that I am sharing this with all of whom are reading, I hope this teaches anyone who sees this to slow life down and look a little deeper think and little longer and to stay young and not all caught up in the fast growing world, make it your own and stick to it. Find your inner warmth

Walking out and about at anytime normally came with a few people snapping pictures, saying some form of hello, or following you for around a block to have a conversation.  That wasn’t abnormal– it came with being a song writer and musician that finally managed to get signed to a label after posting around thirty different covers and original songs on YouTube.  It made your day a bit more exciting; meeting fans was never an issue, but it became a bit overwhelming when you let your agent talk you into a little stunt.

In the first place, you didn’t consider any of your acting abilities to be spot on, especially when recalling how your parents always seemed to see through any white lie you’d slip out.  Given that, maybe you should’ve said no to his idea: faking a relationship for a little press.

“If you want we could just send a few tweets to each other instead.” Ashton offered, that warm smile hanging onto his features so you’d know it was indeed okay to agree.  You didn’t look away from the window, taking in the crowd of people in front of the recording studio, their voices just barely able to transcend the clear glass. 

“No, we did that already.  Like, I don’t want our agents to get mad, you know?” You mumbled, rubbing your hand along the opposite forearm in a slow manner.  “I’m just not used to it, yet.  It’ll never change if I hide.” 

“That’s one way to look at it.” He nodded, looking also through and waving to the group and reaching to take your hand in his, “But I think it’s better not to make you do anything really uncomfortable.  Forget about our agents, I’m more concerned about making sure you feel safe.” You glanced towards him finally.  The feeling of his thumb gently rubbing along the top of your hand was as genuine as could be.  There was no way for anyone to capture him playing an act so small through a snapchat video, or blurry candids; Ashton did it to convey sincerity.  

“If it’s you with me, then I think I’ll be completely fine.” And there was no reason for you to speak in such a manner when no one could record the sound.

“Then it’s a good thing we get to stick together through the tour, huh?” His lips stayed curled, still so happy that you were one of the suggestions on the side of a YouTube video.  And up until these most recent weeks there was nothing more to his perspective towards you other than respect for your talent and ability.  Ever since the first “date” after opting to be your fake boyfriend since he’d been the one to find you, a new perspective had been added into the simple mix: infatuation.  

You returned the expression, nodding and taking a gentle tug at his arm to show you were ready to start walking towards your apartment.  Calling a quick goodbye and wave to the other boys, the two of you went in stride towards the front door.  Through the increase in pressure you put around his Ashton, Ashton did nothing to show any discomfort, instead stepping a bit closer to you, and mumbling a quick sentence to your ear as he reached to open the door, “Fake dating or not, I’d really do care about you, so don’t force yourself, please.”

In the loud reception of cheerful hello’s and space being around the two of you being tightly occupied, you figured maybe your words wouldn’t get back across to Ashton, so you never notice his smile grow wider as you briefly murmured, “It’s not forcing when it’s you.”

For @thehalcyonclub and @featuringluke‘s famous!y/n blurb night! 

Fresh Starts and Flirtations Ch 6: Homecoming

Also on FF.NET and AO3

Seeking a fresh start, Emma Swan moves to sleepy Storybrooke, Maine. Killian Jones is the resident town cad, gorgeous yet infamous for his inability to commit. But when stakes are raised and a bet is placed - who will end up winning, if anyone?

“Hey, Mr. Jones!”

It’s Henry who opens the door. Killian gives him his best teacher smile as he looks cautiously over his shoulder.

“You ready, Mom?”

Henry’s voice is shrill and still pretty high pitched, as Killian winces. Suddenly she is there, tugging on a jacket while simultaneously fastening an earring. “Just a second,” she calls. She has her back to the two. Killian quickly looks over her outfit, a grey pencil skirt and a pale pink silk blouse topped by black wool coat nipped in at the waist. Very pretty, if conservative, he thinks.

Then she turns and catches his eye. She gives him a cautious smile which he returns alongside a raise of his hand. “Get your coat, Henry,” she orders as she approaches the door. “Is it okay if he rides with us?”

“Of course,” Killian replies, though he hadn’t really thought about Henry needing transport before. No opportunity for anything to happen on the drive, then.

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