for anyone who had a tough day

kepzandme  asked:

Sci, are Clint's issues with food and childhood hunger canon in Marvel? Because they are such a prominent theme in many many fics (I have used it myself) so just curious if they are part of the comics. Also, does Rhodey know that Tony asked Clint to take care of DJ if he and Steve are gone?

I honestly don’t remember it being explicitly covered in the comics.  But there are things that are:

-Clint’s father was physically and emotionally abusive
-Like half of the fathers in the Marvel universe, he was also an alcoholic who hit his wife
-They were very definitely poor
-His parents died in a car accident
-He and his brother ran away, joined the circus, and fell under the thrall of yet another abusive father figure.

This equals hunger.  So why DON’T I remember this being focused on?

Because everything I’ve ever read about hunger, non-fiction or fiction, has been written by women, or PoC.  Guess who almost never, ever gets to write white, male lead character superheroes for the big two publishers?  Women.  And PoC.

So the things that are written about Clint and his difficult childhood (or Tony and his difficult childhood, or Bruce and his difficult childhood, and hell, I think they retconned Steve’s merely dead dad to be, you guessed it, alcoholic and abusive!, so him and his difficult childhood) are written through a white, male lens.  And white men, in general, are more comfortable writing about certain types of abuse (physical and verbal) than others (sexual and emotional).

Because certain types of suffering are ‘manly.’  Are ‘acceptable’ in the backstory of a hyper masculine character.  Look at the same tired tropes trotted out over and over and over.  The suffering heaped on heroic male characters tends to follow a very easy, very comfortable path, where the writer doesn’t have to think too hard, where the character can be sympathetic, but still ‘strong.’  Still ‘tough.’ Still ‘heroic.’ Still ‘masculine.’

Violence is masculine.  Starvation is not.  Poverty is not.

Being poor is the worst sin in the United States.  It is, and anyone who tells you differently is selling something.  

I did my student teaching in an inner city middle school in a not-very-good part of a solidly working class city.  And I remember the principal walking around at lunch, surreptitiously handing out lunch cards.  These were supposed to go to kids who had forgotten their lunch money that day, to entitle them to a free lunch.  But on lunch duty, I soon figured out, she was giving them to the same kids, every day.

I asked her why, and she said, these were kids who would’ve qualified for the free lunch program, she knew it, they knew it, the cafeteria ladies knew it.  But the paperwork was never filled out.  Hell, the paperwork probably never made it home.  Because when they were approved for the free lunch program, the card they were given was a different color than the card for the kids who were paying.  And they knew it.  Their peers knew it.  So they didn’t bring the paperwork home.  

To repeat: Twelve year old children, children who had NO PART in their family’s financial standing, NO ABILITY to change that standing, NO CHANCE to do anything other than do their best to get by, preferred going hungry rather than deal with the shame of being visibly identified as coming from a family below the poverty line.

And for some of these kids, the free breakfast and lunch provided by schools was probably the most stable nutrition they got.  

Hunger never leaves you.  Not ever.  But it is a feminine suffering, a thing spoken of condescendingly by late night “Feed the Children” ads showing starving (brown) children in some far off, unfortunate land, and written about by women who can’t figure out how to stretch what little they have to cover the heating bill and the grocery bill.  Hunger is food deserts in inner cities and canned food because you can’t afford the time or the bus fare to go to the grocery store several times a month for fresh, and so everything has to last.  It is food pantries where you’re given the allotment of rice and beans and maybe, if you’re damn lucky, a can of horrible pineapple chunks as a ‘treat.’

Hunger is not heroic.  And that’s why it’s glossed over in comics.

(Also, yes, totally Rhodey knows. 8) )

Warmth. 

  That’s what you can feel surrounding you, along with the tightness pulling you in, holding you in place. It’s safe. It’s calming. The scent of him filled your nose each and every time you inhaled. The familiar smell of whiskey, leather and a hint of spearmint gum that he was chewing an hour ago. 

  His heart beat is steady in your left ear. Its a friendly reminder that he’s here; alive beneath you just like you need him to be. His index finger is tracing circles on the small of your back, assuring you that you had all the time in the world to lay together in complete silence.

  You wouldn’t dare admit to Dean that you loved these moments more than you should. They were a rare occurrence already; only after a tough hunt would you both take comfort in holding each other. The next day, you would pretend that nothing ever happened. He was a badass hunter and you were the strong independent girl who didn’t need anyone to fight her battles for her. It was a terrifying thought that deep down you needed a man like Dean Winchester to hold you to make you feel safe. 

  You don’t need anyone Y/N. You can take care of yourself.

  But you knew that as long as Dean held you. As long as you felt him engulfing you into him. You were letting your walls down and allowing him in; allowing yourself to fall for a man that would never fall back. 

  His arms wrapped tighter around you. “You okay?” he whispered.

 How were you supposed to answer that? ‘Yes Dean, I’m fine except for the fact that I love having your arms around me and I never want you to let go.

  “I won’t then,” he stated. He placed a soft kiss to the crown of your head. 

  “Did I say that out loud?” you muttered.

  “Yes,” he breathed out. “I never want you to let go either.” You buried your face in his chest, mostly to hide how red your cheeks were. It didn’t stop you from gripping him tighter in the process. 

Haunted By War: Jared Kushner Just Woke Up In A Cold Sweat After Having A Flashback About Getting A Blister During His 2-Day Trip To Iraq

The horrors of war can have significant impacts on those who experience them, and it seems like the president’s son-in-law is no exception: Jared Kushner just woke up seized with terror after experiencing a flashback to a blister he got on his foot during his two-day trip to Iraq.

What an incredibly harrowing experience.

Dreaming he was back in the war-torn country he visited last week, sitting with military generals in a climate-controlled room, Kushner broke out in a cold sweat as he was forced to relive the trauma of having his big toe rubbed raw by a pair of shoes he had not yet had the chance to break in. His mind replayed scene after scene in which he had to excuse himself from conversation with the chairman of the joint chiefs of staff in order to limp to the bathroom and shake any grains of chafing sand from his new loafers. A phantom pain in his heel throbbed as he repeatedly clapped his shoes together in his dream, only to find the Italian leather insoles covered in a fresh layer of sand every time he slipped them on his aching feet. The terror of the nightmare proving to be too much to handle, Kushner gasped audibly as he bolted upright in bed, eyes bloodshot with the horror of the injury he had sustained in Iraq.

Trauma can be difficult for anyone to overcome, and these flashbacks to his 48 hours in Iraq spent 10 miles away from any fighting show that Jared Kushner is having a tough time adjusting back to civilian life.

As he kicked off his covers and tried to catch his breath, Kushner was plagued by visions of the long hallways he had been forced to painfully traverse with the soldiers who’d put their lives on the line every day, his blister growing redder with each passing step as they told him about their fellow service members who had not made it home alive. He was haunted by memories of meetings with military strategists, in which he had stoically endured hours of discussions about the future of the United States’ involvement in Iraq without a single opportunity to apply an ointment or soothing balm to his foot.

Kushner attempted to clear these thoughts from his mind as he tried to fall back asleep, but they kept him awake for hours more. The sunburn he’d gotten on his nose still felt as fresh as ever, even though by now it had faded into a tan, and he could swear his shoulder still felt the slice of the uncomfortable seatbelt in the Humvee in which he’d had to ride on the second day.

This just goes to show the serious horrors Jared Kushner faced for our country. We hope he has a strong support network to help him get through this grim chapter of his life and work past the traumatic blister flashbacks that haunt him and disturb his rest. No one should have to live like this.

The Ringing In My Ear

I remember the day I started to lose my hearing. I remember it because two things had happened the day before; I’d received a particularly painful numbing injection at the dentist’s office prior to having some work done and my daughter was raped and left for dead in a dumpster just outside her college campus.

We got the call at 4 AM. Being woken like that, by a shrill ringing in the otherwise still and quiet dark, is something no one should have to experience. You know before you pick up that something has happened, that something life changing is about to be dropped in your lap, and all you can do is answer.

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just once (eddie/richie)

summary: richie and eddie have both never had their first kiss. so, naturally, they decide to be each other’s.

words: 1045

warnings: none

( read on ao3 )


Sure, spending your summer murdering a killer clown with your group of friends was fun. But Richie much preferred Eddie’s company when they weren’t in perilous situations.

After sticking up to his mother, Eddie had finally convinced her to let him do things he would previously never have been allowed to, such as having his best friend spend the night. It was no secret Mrs. Kaspbrack hated Richie, but neither him or Eddie really cared.

Drinking bottle after bottle of coke and watching bad movies with Eddie was exactly how Richie wanted to spend his summer, and his fall, and winter, and spring. It was how he wanted to spend the rest of his life, if that were realistic. But he wasn’t really one for living in reality.

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Getting Nowhere

Summary: The push-and-pull relationship you have with Dean becomes too much to handle. 
Pairing: Dean x Reader
Word Count: 875
Warnings: None?
Challenge: @atc74‘s 1K Follower Milestone Challenge! My prompt was from Kenny Chesney’s song Come Over, with the lyrics, “You can say we’re done/the way you always do/it’s easier to lie to me than to yourself/forget about your friends/you know they’re say we’re bad for each other/we ain’t good for anyone else.” Congrats on the milestone Ang!

Your name: submit What is this?

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Change of Heart (Calum Hood)

based on a blurb i wrote one time that was gonna be maxx again but turned into calum bc an anon wanted it

~

Calum’s POV

Calum strolled down the long hallway on his way to class, smiling coyly at anyone who made eye contact with him. He was a sixth-year Slytherin – though you didn’t need to know him for two minutes without knowing he was a member of the house. He was your stereotypical tough guy, he was the best on the Quidditch team, and he hated the idea of breathing the same air as muggle-borns. Maybe it was the way he was raised, but Calum had never been fond of those who weren’t born magical – the thought of someone randomly discovering they were a wizard rubbed him the wrong way.

But all that seemed to change the day he met you.

He walked into his Potions class – half of his classmates were already there – and cocked an eyebrow the moment his eyes landed on the girl sitting in his seat. He marched over, ready to give her a piece of his mind – everyone else was watching with a mix of horror and excitement as they had no idea what he was going to do.

But nothing happened.

As he approached the girl, he noticed her struggling to tie her necktie to complete her uniform before class started. He couldn’t tell you why, but he felt a pang of guilt in his chest, truthfully feeling bad for her.

He’d heard of this girl before – it seemed like the whole school was talking about the 17-year-old who only just recently found out she was a witch. She had already been sorted – Hufflepuff, Calum heard – and had been at Hogwarts for a couple days to get a tour and find out where her classes were. She hadn’t met anyone yet – though she had heard about those with certain reputations – so this was technically her first time meeting another student.

So instead of telling her off like he originally planned, he sat himself down on the desktop in front of her.

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A-Z Book Recommendations

EDIT: i’m so laughing because after like three days of this being posted, i realized i didn’t have a K title 😂 so props to anyone that caught that and i went ahead and added one! lol

Inspired by @macrolit. Enjoy! 

A - All the Birds in the Sky by Charlie Jane Anders: This book was…interesting and not at all what I expected.  A little slow at times but really good for people who like reading about the most off the wall stories.

B - The Bookman’s Tale by Charlie Lovett: This was a tough one to choose since I had so many B books that I wanted to pick.  But I read this four years ago and I always find myself thinking about it.  I love reading books that are about books.  This was beautifully written and very emotional.  It also made me want to learn how to restore old books.

C - Clockwork Angel by Cassandra Clare: I wanted to read this book purely because I liked the cover so much (and it had steampunk elements).  What started as a great read for me seven years ago turned into an obsession with the world of Shadowhunters that’s still going strong.  

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Ser Arthur x Reader...

((I hope you like it! I’m not sure I do “fluff” very well, sorry, but I hope you like the one shot nevertheless!))

Word Count: 1,639

Warning: None

He didn’t even realize that his staring had become constant until his prince jokingly pointed it out with a soft chuckle on his lips.

His actions confused the knight more than it irritated him. He had always been so committed to his role as a member of the Kingsguard and as the Sword of the Morning that Arthur Dayne had so rarely shown interest of the romantic, lustful kind toward any sex. He had those feelings, of course, he was a man born with Dornish blood in his veins, but he was wise enough to choose loyalty, honor, chivalry, and the vows he took when he was given the white armor and cloak over carnal instincts of the body.

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So i have a theory...

You know how Nico mention that Bianca chose to be reborn instead of moving on to Elysium? What if Bianca was reborn into Percy’s little sister? Like, the signs are little at first, but as she grows Percy starts to notice that his sister has the same toughness and independence Bianca had, and the willingness to do anything for family and then one day Percy just knows and he feels like maybe its just wishful thinking but he (embarrassed) tells Nico, expecting him to just disregard it, but instead Nico just smiles with a little bit of sadness in his eyes and nods because he had known all along just from her eyes and so Percy is just 10x more protective because theres no way in tartarus hes getting her hurt again and Nico makes it clear that he will cause anyone who hurts her immense pain so Percy’s sis has two designated badass older brothers who love her to death

Behind the Walls (Chapter 5)

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4

Pairing: Professor!Bucky X Reader

Words: 4,917

Warnings: Cursing!

Summary: You are currently getting your PhD in Art History, your dissertation being about The Power of Nudity in Art. Your advisor recommends you switch from being her TA to another professor because she feels her health is declining and wants you to get the best help/advice from someone new. She recommends Dr. James Barnes and believes he will be of great help to you. Things don’t turn out as you plan.

A/N: Feedback is helpful you guys!!!! Tell me if you want to be tagged…Enjoy! Also, I start classes soon so I won’t be able to update everyday (sorry)!

Tagging: @amxwxxld@confidentrose

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Believe It (Daryl x Reader)

Hi. :) Could you do an imagine where Daryl x Reader were in a relationship before the apocalypse and when it started they where apart from each other and, then they like meet again? It could be prison time or Alexandria or the Kingdom or season 1, it doesn’t matter. I know it sounds pretty confusing, but idk it was just an idea, I guess. Love your writing btw

Daryl had never told anyone about you.

For one thing, it never came up. He didn’t know why everyone cared about that sort of stuff. The stuff about who you were before. It didn’t matter anymore, so there was no point to it.

He also didn’t tell anyone about you because he wanted to keep you to himself. Those happy memories were sometimes the only thing that kept him going. For some reason everyone knowing seemed like it would ruin it.

He didn’t have any hope that he would find you, he had hardly any hope that you were still alive. He knew you were tough, but you were also too kind for your own good. He couldn’t imagine you ever killing a person, and that’s what it had come to these days. That’s what you had to do to survive

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Wrong Number Part 3

Originally posted by lowmans

Originally posted by inkdollmafia

Part One  ♔    Part Two

(Warning: Mentions of illness and death)

♔♔ ♔ ♔ ♔ ♔ ♔ ♔ ♔ ♔ ♔ ♔ ♔ ♔ ♔ ♔ ♔ 


Sunlight beamed through the crack in the curtain, illuminating the dust particles floating through the air.
You groaned and rolled over, pulling the covers of your head.
Your phone rung loudly and you groaned again, sitting up and grabbing it.
“What?” You growled into the phone, holding  it to your head and running your free hand through your ragged hair.
“Goodmorning sunshine!” You heard Julian laugh through the line.
You sat back in the bed, your head resting on the pillow and your hair pooling around your head.
“Jujuuuuu!” You groaned into the phone, closing your eyes.
He laughed again.
“Where are you, (y/n)?” He asked cheerily.
You looked at the clock next to your bed. 7.36am.
“Julian its seven fucking thirty.” You said, playing with your hair.
“I know. Where are you?” He asked again. laughter in his voice.
You sighed and rolled over, eyeing the hotel room.
“Vegas.” You said as you yawned, lifting a hand to your mouth.
“Come to Charming.” Julian said through the phone.
You rolled your eyes.
“Why Juju? You miss me too much?” You purred into the phone as you stood up, and headed to the kitchen, grabbing a mug and making a coffee.
“You know i do boo!” He laughed before his tone turned more serious. “No, really. Come home, I uh, I have news.”
You paused, spoon full of coffee floating mid air in your hand.
“What news, Juju?” You asked, curiosity thick in your voice.
“Come here and find out.”
He hung up the phone and you pulled it from your ear, frowning at the screen.
You dumped the spoonful of coffee in your cup and added boiling water, stirring as you sent a text to Julian.
Fuck you, ju. You hit send and leant against the bench, raising the strong coffee to your lips in both hands.
You heard your phone go off and you looked down at the screen, rolling your eyes at the message from Julian.
See you soon boo.
You sighed and placed your coffee on the counter, heading for the shower.

Six weeks had passed since you’d left Charming and thoughts of Happy still played on your mind.You had stayed in the small town another week after you met Happy, staying with him every night, fucking like rabbits. But it was a morning when you woke up and he wasn’t next to you that you realised you were falling for him. You had packed your bags and left, leaving only a lipstick stain on his mirror to remember you by. You didn’t do feelings, you didn’t do love. You didn’t want anyone holding you down and the thought of falling in love with Happy scared you. You really liked him, he was sweet, he was caring, loyal. He was hot as hell and he made you moan like no one else ever had. But you had always been independant. You were a tornado, ripping through every town you visited, wrecking havoc and moving to the next town, leaving burning ashes in your trail.
You didn’t know how to love, and Happy deserved to be.. well, happy. You couldn’t give him that, you couldn’t give him a stable life. You knew you could be loyal, but you weren’t what he needed. He needed someone to ground him, and how could you, when your wings carried you every where you went. But it didn’t matter how many strangers you slept with, how much tequila you drank. Everyone you slept with left you feeling empty, because they weren’t his hands on you, weren’t his lips. It wasn’t his voice or his eyes and you knew you were fucked. He was on your mind constantly, and you found yourself missing him when you lay awake at night. You were in love with him, hopelessly in love with the Tacoma Killer. And you’d left him, not knowing what else to do.

Two days later you walked into the bar on the end of Main St, Charming.
Julian sat at the bar with his back to you, and you snuck up behind him, covering his eyes with your hands.
“Guess who, mother fucker.” You said in a low, gruff voice.
He laughed and you moved your hands, letting him see you.
He turned and hugged you, a grin on his face.
“Lookin good, (y/n)” He smiled at you.
“I know.” You winked and sat down on the stool next to him and ordered your tequila.
“So whats the news too important to share on the phone?” You asked, raising an eyebrow and thanking the bartender as he passed you your drink.
His face fell, and you furrowed your brows, a frown forming on your face.
“Juju, what is it?” You asked, your voice quiet and serious now.
He sighed and looked at his hands, a sad look crossing his face.
You put your hand on his knee, squeezing gently.
He looked up at you, his eyes filled with pain.
“Im sick,(y/n)” His voice was sad and quiet. “Glioblastoma multiforme, i have a brain tumor.”
Your heart stopped and you froze, staring at your friend.
“What?” You breathed, tears stinging your eyes.
“Its stage 5. I.. I don’t have much time.” His voice cracked as he looked at you and you stood wrapping your arms around him.
“Juju.” You said, your voice full of pain as you hugged your best friend, your only friend, really.
He hugged you back, squeezing your body to his tightly.
You ran your hands through his hair, tears falling down your face.

The door slammed shut behind you and you threw your bag to the floor, sobs taking over your body and you fell to your knees.
Your best friend was dying.
You didn’t have many friends, the way you lived, moving from town to town every few weeks never really gave you the chance to build those bonds. It had never bothered you, but your loneliness washed over you as you sat on the floor, tears streaming down your face.
Julian was your only constant, the only person in your life who had stayed a part of it. You had grown up with him, partied with him, he knew you better than anyone else. He was your rock and whenever times got tough, and you had moved on from the last town, Julian was the person you called, the person you came to.
And now, you would lose him. He had told you that the doctors had said there weren’t any treatment options, he was too far gone and he should live his last days as full as he can.
You had seen the pain in his eyes, the fear. He was never scared of anything but now he stared down the barrel of a gun, waiting for the trigger to be pulled at any moment.
You vowed to stay in Charming, you would stay with him for as long as he needed, as long as he had.

The air was warm as the sun began to set, and you walked into the lot, a gentle breeze running through your hair.
You felt nervous and scared, what if he didn’t want to see you? You weren’t used to feeling nervous and you could of hated him for doing this to you. Only you didn’t hate him, you loved him.
The lot was empty, except for the line of bikes and you walked to the clubhouse door, taking a deep breath as you pulled it open.
The familiar smell hit you instantly, along with the song of old rock ballads and laughter.
You walked in slowly, taking in the scent and the sounds, eyeing the room.
Tig saw you first and he grinned, standing up and running to you.
He threw his arms around you and you smiled, breathing in the scent of leather that had drowned you for the last six weeks.
“Hey beautiful! Long time no see, doll.” He grinned at you, his eyes running over your body.
“Hey Tiggy.” You smile at him. You had become close with him over your short stay in Charming. You got on like a house on fire, making dirty jokes and laughing together.
His arm swung over your shoulder and you walked with him to the bar, the rest of the club welcoming you with smiles.
Happy wasn’t there, and you didn’t know whether to be relieved or dissapointed.
Chucky passed you a tequila before you could ask and you smiled at him, truly thankful.
The club had welcomed you and it was everything you needed right now.
You sat and talked to the boys, laughing with them for a while.
Juice turned to young spoke lowly.
“He misses you.” He looked at you, his knowing eyes burning into yours and you nodded, a sad smile on your face.
Juice squeezed your knee and stood, heading to the bathroom.
The front doors opened and in he walked, dangerous and sexy, signature toothpick in his mouth.
A blond man with short spiky hair was behind him but your eyes stayed focused on Happy.
He walked towards the bar, not noticing you yet.
His eyes looked over his brothers and soon fell on you, making him freeze midstep.
His face hardened and you gulped, your earlier nerves coming back.
You stood and walked towards him, the room falling quiet as the brothers watched the two of you.
His dark eyes swallowed you and you stood shakily before him, his jaw clenching.
“Can we talk?” Your voice was quiet and weak, and you cursed yourself silently.
He nodded and grabbed your wrist, pulling you outside.

The door shut behind you and Happy sat on the picnic table, elbows on his knees as he twirled his toothpick across his lips.
You sighed and walked closer, sitting down next to him.
You stared down at your lap, playing with your hands nervously.
This wasn’t like you. You weren’t sure what was happening to you. You were always confident, always pulling every ones attention to you and you bathed in it, loving every second.
But here you sat, staring into your lap, unable to look at him.
“Im sorry.” You finally said, breaking the silence.
He turned to you, his dark eyes burning through your soul.
“Why? Why did you leave?” His voice was low and raspy, just like you remembered.
“I.. I dunno, Hap. Im not good at..This.” You gestured between the two of you. “I don’t do this. I don’t know what Im doing. I had to go.”
Happy stared at you, his toothpick twirling between his lips.
“I didn’t know what to do.” Your voice was quiet and you saw his face softened.
“Why are you back?” His voice was quiet and his eyes ran over you, taking in every inch.
Tears stung your eyes and you blinked to hold them back.
Your mouth tried to form words but nothing came out and your body shook as you began to cry.
Happy looked at you, alarmed and wrapped an arm around you. You leant into his chest, drowning yourself in him as you cried.
His fingers ran through your hair, comforting you.
You looked up at him and he saw the pain in your eyes, the loneliness from all your years on the road catching up to you.
“Hes dying, Hap.” You whispered, as more tears streamed down your face.
You had bought Julian to the clubhouse last time you were here and Happy knew who you meant.
He knew he was your best friend and he knew how much Julian cared for you. Julian had made him promise to protect you, and the pain that you were feeling ripped through him.
“Come here,” Happy said, pulling you into his lap.
You wrapped your arms around him, burying your face in his neck.
“Its okay, baby girl. Its okay.” He cooed at you as you sobbed, his fingers tracing around your back.
You pulled your head back and looked into his eyes.
“Im sorry i left, Happy. I.. I think I l-love you. I didn’t k-know what to d-do.” You whispered.
He stared deep into your eyes, like he was searching through your soul.
“I know. I think i love you, too.” He whispered, his eyes softening.

You had always hated the smell of hospitals, and now you hated it even more.
Your hand clutched around a bouquet of flowers as you walked down the corridor. Sadness surrounded you but you forced a smile onto your face as you opened the door and walked into the room.
“(y/n)” Julian smiled at you, his voice was quiet and weak.
“Hey Juju.” You smiled back at him, moving slowly and sliding into the chair next to his bed.
You lay the flowers on the table and reached for his hands, your eyes studying his face.
His skin was pale, his eyes empty and he looked tired. You fought back tears as you looked at your friend. Four months had passed since you’d arrived back in Charming and his health had been deteriorating rapidly. You spent all your time with him, Happy would drive you to see him and he’d even sit with you both, knowing how much he meant to you.
Things with Happy were good, you were even dating. You didn’t know how to be a girlfriend but that didn’t really matter, because Happy didn’t know how to be a boyfriend. But you loved each other, and you made each other happy so you spent most of your time together getting drunk, smoking weed, watching cartoons, and fucking. It worked for you.
You had never stayed in one town this long, but you kept your promise, visiting Julian daily and doing whatever he needed you to do.
“Promise me something?” Julian asked, rubbing his thumb across your hand.
“Anything.” You smiled at him, squeezing his hand.
“Promise me you won’t let them play Nickelback at my funeral.”
You laughed, throwing your head back, trying to stop the tears from flowing.
Julian grinned at you and you met his eye.
“Promise me you’ll stay here.” His voice went serious and you couldn’t stop the tears.
They slid down your cheeks as you nodded.
“Promise me you’ll stay in Charming, with Happy. You deserve to be loved, boo. Promise me you’ll stop running.”
“I promise.” You said, a sad smile on your face as tears flowed down your cheeks.
“And (y/n)?” Julian asked. “I wasn’t kidding about Nickelback, I will haunt you if you play them at my funeral.” He grinned,  his playful spark in his eyes and you laughed.

A year after Julian passed you sat on the floor of Happys dorm, in only your panties and his Samcro tshirt, his crow tattooed proudly across your thigh.
Happy walked into the room, smiling down at you.
“Whatcha doing, mami?” He asked you, his voice thick with love.
He knelt on the floor next to you, his head resting on your shoulders as you flicked through old photos.
His hands reached around you and he laid his hand on your bulging belly, stroking it gently.
You kissed his cheek before looking back at the photos of when you were wild and carefree laughing at a bar next to Julian..
“Your beautiful.” He whispered in your ear and you smiled, leaning into him.
“I love you, Happy.” You said.
“I love you too, (y/n). And i love you, Julian, my son.” Happy said, his hand strong your belly gently.
You smiled widely, surrounded by love for your little family.

♔♔ ♔ ♔ ♔ ♔ ♔ ♔ ♔ ♔ ♔ ♔ ♔ ♔ 

Masterlist

anonymous asked:

Could I please have a short story full of fluff where Dad76 cuddles his s/o who can't sleep at night? Thank you very much 💜

When you closed your eyes, you could see their faces. The faces of those who you couldn’t save, the ones who accusatorial stares bored into your very soul. Why couldn’t you help them? Why didn’t you arrive in time? You were a doctor, weren’t you supposed to heal things, fix things?

Your fingers squeezed tight around your mug, barely registering the heat that poured off of it. You brought the mug to your lips, your gaze far off as you took a sip.
You remembered signing up at the beginning of the first Omnic Crisis, bright eyed, idealistic with thoughts of how you were going to save the world through medicine. Reality of war, however, was much more grim than medical school had ever prepared you for.

Humans were not built to fight against machines. The way the bodies would come in, twisted and mangled but alive. You shivered, shaking your head of those thoughts, taking another quick gulp of hot tea. It hadn’t bothered you nearly as much when you were young and busy and constantly moving but occasionally, on quiet nights, thoughts of what you had seen would come trickling back.

You knew you could talk to Jack, if there was anyone who understood it would be him. There were days that he would try and keep up the tough facade, say he was fine. But more and more, in private, he would confide in you. Spilling his worries about his shortcomings as commander of Overwatch, sharing memories of the better times and mourning friends he had lost who he felt he had failed.

Still, he had fallen asleep while you were in the shower and you didn’t have it in you to wake him. So tonight tea would be your comforter. You pulled your silk robe tighter around your body, placing your mug on the counter and dragging your holopad over. Your fingers danced over the screen, stopping when you came to an article that caught your eye.

“Hey.”

Your head snapped up, catching Jack leaning against the bedroom door frame. You could still see the sleep in his blue eyes, his hand pushing through silvery locks.

“Hey”, you responded, pushing your hair behind your ear and standing up straight. “What’re you doing up?”

“I could ask you the same thing”, he said, dropping his arms and motioning for you to come over. “One of those nights?”

You nodded, walking into his arms and sighing softly as he wrapped them around you. You didn’t understand how he could manage to sleep shirtless but still remain so warm. He pressed several kisses to the top of your head, his hands lightly rubbing your lower back. You sighed softly, arms tightening around him as he melted some of the tension out of your body.

“Come on”, he said, leaning back and placing his hands lightly on your shoulders. “Let’s go to bed. You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to.”

You nodded again, standing on your tiptoes, pressing a gentle kiss against his lips. He returned with several small, playful pecks back before walking backwards with you into the room. He held up one finger as he got into bed first, leaning back against the pillows and headboard, before motioning for you to join him. You pulled your robe off, dropping it on the floor and crawled into his waiting arms. He pulled the blanket over the both of you, one hand massaging your back while the other combed through your hair, humming a soft, nameless tune.

The sound of his heart played steadily against your ear and chest, your hand absentmindedly tracing one of the scars on his chest. He began to tell you about his day in his low, soft voice. How training the new ‘recruits’, as he called them, had went. Shared how Hana was a prodigy and Lucio while not classically trained packed a punch. He said that he’d deny it if you shared, but they seemed to be a helluva lot better than he was at their age. You chuckled softly, sleepily while placing a gentle kiss against his chest.

“Your secret is safe with me”, you sighed quietly.

“I trust you”, he said, grabbing your hand and kissing your palm lightly.

A slow smile stretched across your lips, your eyes slipping closed as he held your hand against his lips. Three simple words could mean so much, a comforting warmth spreading through your chest and down your limbs. You curled up into the man as your resistance to sleep was ebbed away. A few moments later, you were out, Jack peeking down and smiling.

“Night beautiful…”

 Kingsmanassemble’s Harry/Eggsy Fic Rec

Here’s a list of my favourite Hartwin fics on AO3! (It’s most of them tbh, that tag is a wonderful place) Please adhere to all warnings on the fics before you read them! Enjoy! *Will probably be updated in the future!*

Angst 

Unbreakable by LadyEmrys

Eggsy learnt that it was okay to cry. 

Metal by eve_23

Eggsy goes with Harry to the church. Harry gets shot. Eggsy gets taken.

Simply Safe by PriyankaP

Eggsy runs to Harry Hart when he needs to feel safe.

Undeniable Chemistry by mickeysixx

Please note this is an entire series

Running (towards you) by starhurst

Based off a tumblr prompt.
In which Eggsy runs into his former training officer during a mission. After their encounter, Harry is left to pick up after the pieces. Rape/Non-con tw

Captured by Galahard

Tumblr prompt fill: Eggsy is captured and tortured, the villain utilizes the glasses so Harry is also privy to the torture but helpless to do anything about it.   Torture tw

Lost Afternoons on Smith Street by HartwinMakethMan

Eggsy and Harry are settling in for the night after another day of saving the world, when Eggsy’s drunk stepfather shows up on their stoop, bellowing about some parts of Eggsy’s past he didn’t want heard….

Stand Back On The Edge of Your Voice by fideliant

After getting injured on a joint mission with Harry, Eggsy wakes up.

Only he doesn’t. Not exactly.

The Color Red by anniepear

That’s the thing about mental breakdowns - you never see them coming.

(or the one where it’s been two weeks, eggsy can’t cope without harry anymore, and it all comes crashing down thanks to a plate of spaghetti)

Smut

HEM by Galahard 

Prompt fill for threesome Harry/Eggsy/Merlin. PWP. I didn’t even think hard enough to come up with a real title.

Take it Fast, Make it Slow by coloursflyaway

Sometimes, Harry calls Eggsy by his birth name in bed. Eggsy calls Harry ‘sir’ in return.

Steam by fremen_wali

from the OTP prompt: person A wants to take a shower but person B jumps in first and thinks A is bluffing when they say they’ll come in there anyway

Let’s sell it by Galahard

Anon tumblr prompt: Harry and Eggsy go undercover and have to pretend to be gay. They have to sell it for the mission and so smut happens.

Gently Apply Pressure by aerospaces

Harry’s called him into his office shortly after his little fiasco, which always means one of two things: either Eggsy is due for a spanking as punishment for recent behaviour or Harry’s got important news to tell him that can’t wait till dinner. 

A Gentleman’s Guide to Popping One’s Cherry by Callay

Eggsy squirms under Harry’s hands. “Stop being a gentleman and fuck me.”

“Eggsy,” says Harry in a low voice. “I’m going to be a gentleman and fuck you.”

An Education in Armor by Galahard

A gentleman knows more than one use for ties.

The Gentleman’s Guide to Heat by azrielen

Eggsy isn’t surprised by the fact that the Kingsman appear to be nearly all alphas.

Eggsy is an omega, then he’s a Kingsman, and no two heats are alike.

Something Untoward by polysyndeta

“You don’t never say nothin’, Harry,” Eggsy mumbles once the blankets are drawn and the lights out.

“I’m too tired to untangle your double negatives,” Harry grouses, a transparent diversionary tactic if ever there was one.

Rough Day by Galahard

Tumblr prompt: Can you do a Hartwin where Eggsy had a bad day and comes home and demands that Harry fuck him senseless, and then afterwards they talk about it? 

Other (mostly fluff)

Harry Hart vs That Damn Pug by sushicorps (Inclinant)

Harry had assumed he was way past that stage in his life to need to compete with another for the attention of his object of affection.
Apparently not.
The fact that the ‘another’ just has to be a dog is just salt in his wound.

Little House by aerospaces

Harry’s life is changed. It’s not dramatic but it’s noticeable enough that Harry wakes one day, blinking at the weight of a leg slung across his waist.

Starts on the streets of the invincible city by spiekiel

Eggsy pulls at his collar uncomfortably, knocking the bowtie crooked again. “Me and mum had some tough times, you know? Rent’s enough overdue, no one’s gonna ask where you got the money. So.”

The instinct to never let anyone who doesn’t love this boy touch him ever again just about overpowers Harry’s hard-earned, fraying sense of propriety.

Honeyed Lies and Bedroom Eyes by ToriCeratops

Eggsy has been looking at Harry like he’s dying of thirst pretty much since the day they met. And Harry is anything but oblivious.
It’s been almost two years, a world rescuing feat or two, and far too many wasted opportunities and Harry is tired of waiting for the perfect moment.
So he creates it.

That’s it for now, but if you read any other fics you love then send me a message and I’ll add them to this list! Please note that I am trash, I haven’t recc’d any unfinished chaptered fics (but will do so in the future) and most of these are smut, for which i apologise. I also avoided fics that were super angsty because i don’t like to cause myself too much pain so I apologise again (but like I said, if you read any you love, link me!). Please check out the authors other works!

suggestion by @swiftboone! enjoy some sportarobbie valentine’s day chocolate hijinks! :) 

*

It was that time of the year again – when spring was just around the corner, when the sun shone bright and the birds sang sweetly, and Robbie wandered through Lazytown with bulging shopping bags full of Valentine’s Day chocolate.

He could’ve done it without the bird making a racket and the sun in his eyes, sure, but nothing, nothing could beat the day when numerous rebuffed lovers would cast aside the fancy chocolate boxes they’d gotten for their intended. Robbie had never really understood how a heartbreak could make anyone could lose their appetite, especially for candy, but he was not one to question it – merely to reap the rewards of other people’s idiocy. 

Valentine’s Day was fun.

“Oh, tough luck,” he commiserated in sickly sweet tones, pausing to gaze down at the young man on the park bench who had that tell-tale hunch, and who was also clutching a two-layer box of Belgian truffles. “Would you look at that, and on Valentine’s Day too. What a tragedy. You probably want to just forget all about it.”

“She just- “ the young man hiccupped. “She didn’t even show up!”

Keep reading

anonymous asked:

could you write a drabble for robron and number 7?

How long has it been?

“How long has it been?”

5 months, 3 weeks, 2 days and almost 13 hours. He wasn´t going to tell Julia that though, that he was still counting. That he still hoped that at some point he´d be able to stop the clock.

It would just make him look pathetic and desperate.

Not that that wouldn´t be true, but they had only known each other for about 15 minutes and the fact alone that he was spending his Friday morning sitting on a dark brown leather couch in a small cosy room, surrounded by bookshelves and with a pillow in his lap; instead of lying in his bed, hiding under the covers and nursing the rest of last nights whiskey, made him feel vulnerable enough. Thank you very much.

He most certainly wasn´t ready to let her in on the full extent of his desolation and self-hate. At least not yet.

Maybe if he kept staring at the clock on the wall behind her he could somehow will time to go by faster.

“6 months,” he said.

Robert looked at her then, trying hard to act somewhat nonchalant. His voice was void of emotion, but his hands were gripping the pillow tightly by its edges. So tightly that his knuckles turned white. If nothing else, Robert had gotten good at hiding his real feelings again over the last couple of months.

“I´m doing fine.”

“Yes, I´m eating.”

“You don´t have to worry about me.”

The lies rolled off his tongue far easier these days.

Right after, they hadn´t.

Aaron had taken a sledgehammer to all of the walls Robert had carefully built over years, but at least he had still been a closed book to everyone else. That was until everything had fallen apart and he hadn´t been able to keep up the pretence any longer. Hadn´t had the strength to play tough. Not that he had talked to people about it, but the dark circles under his puffy eyes and his ashen complexion had been enough of a giveaway for anyone who had still cared enough to notice.

Julia gave him a kind smile and nodded. She was maybe in her late thirties, sitting across from him in a matching brown arm chair, her legs crossed, her long blonde hair in a braided bun on top of her head. It reminded him of Liv.

God, Robert missed Liv.

“And how would you say you´re coping with the separation?” Julia´s voice was soft and gentle. She sounded like she actually cared, not as if she was only pretending to be interested, because making him feel welcome and getting him to open up about things he didn´t want to share was her job. Not the way Diane sounded when she called once in a blue moon.

Robert let his eyes wander across the room, unwilling to look the therapist in the eye in fear of being found out and psychoanalysed, until they settled on the window. It was slightly fogged by the cold November air, little drops of condensation making their way from its top down to the windowsill, but he could still make out the row of cars driving by down below. People driving to work or bringing their kids to school. Functioning, well-adjusted adults, who had managed to get out of bed that morning and were able to go about their day without a pit in their stomach, without a constant feeling of dread.

It was so much easier to focus on them than to look at the counsellor in front of him, when he didn´t feel like he deserved the sympathetic look in her eyes.

“I´m coping,” he answered.

It was bullshit. Obviously.

Sure, nowadays he held out on opening a new bottle of alcohol until the early hours of the afternoon, instead of diving in as soon as he woke up in the morning. He had actually managed to send out two application letters that week (London flats were expensive and his savings wouldn´t last forever), but that was about it.

Victoria had called it progress. Robert new that it was nothing more than mere survival, unworthy of her praise.

Even four months after his move, his place was still covered in unopened boxes of flat-pack furniture. A manifestation of his reluctance to accept his new living situation and everything that came with it as fact, staring back at him every time he entered the place. The scattered boxes and emptied bottles mocking him for every terrible choice he´d ever made. But what really was doing him in now, months into this newfound so-called life oh his, was the lack of human interaction. These days, Victoria´s daily calls, which had grown more and more concerned as time passed by, and the two lines of small talk he shared with a rotating number of delivery men every night were the only reminders he had of the fact that there was indeed a world out there, behind his four walls.

Julia didn´t push for more right away. She just slid her round, gold-rimmed glasses up the bridge of her nose with her index finger and scribbled something into her notebook instead. It made Robert nervous. Made him feel like he hadn´t pulled that line off as well as he had hoped. It made him feel like maybe she knew.

He tightened his jaw and crossed his arms over the pillow. Drew it a little closer, until it was pressed against his chest, because the look on Juila´s face made him feel exposed and that was the only bit of protection he had in here.

“I know that this isn´t easy, but I can only help with whatever is going on with you, if you open up…” Julia said, but it was Victoria´s voice he heard it in.

It´s what she had been telling him ever since he had crashed on her couch that first night after Aaron had kicked him out. And she hadn´t let it go, even after Robert was out of her sight and trying his best to keep her worries at bay by sounding as convincingly okay as possible on the phone. Victoria hadn´t bought it, of course she hadn´t. She had always been able to see through his facade. So instead of giving up and letting it go, she had started to drop hints about therapy. About how it might be easier to talk to someone who wasn´t so involved in all of it, someone he wouldn´t feel pre-judged by.

Actually, it was her who had given him Julia´s number in the end, begging him to at least give it a try.

It had taken weeks, but in the end he hadn´t been able to refuse his little sister. Especially not since she was the only one still willing to put up with him after everything. His pride wasn´t worth losing that.

Wasn´t worth losing her.

“It´s…,”  Robert didn´t quite know how to explain the way he had been feeling for the past couple of months without giving away too much too soon.

“It´s been really hard,”  is what he settled on.  

There was more. Of course there was more.

I miss him. I miss my home. I miss my family. It´s hard, because in the end it was all my fault. It´s even harder, because I always knew that I would disappoint him. It was just a matter of time.

There was a voice inside his head, that unsurprisingly sounded a lot like his little sister, telling him to let it all out right then and there, just for the slight chance of feeling a little bit better afterwards, a little bit more like himself. It had been a long six months and Robert had grown so incredibly tired of pretending. He was desperate to just once go to bed without feeling like someone was punching him in the gut repeatedly, while his mind was running in circles. Just one night without the image of a crying Aaron clouding his every thought.

He didn´t though.

Because at the end of the day, no matter the pain, he was still Robert Sugden. He was still Jack´s son, which meant that he knew the consequences of letting other people in on your feelings and sharing things they might not be ready to hear, far too well. It was going to take him more than twenty minutes to trust the woman in front of him with all of his deepest darkest secrets, if he ever would.

But at least this felt like a start.

He wasn´t sure if this would actually help, but he owed it to Victoria to try.

He certainly owed it to Aaron.

And maybe Robert even owed himself the chance of getting better, no matter how badly he had messed things up.  

Especially, if he wanted to keep his hopes of ever being allowed to come home again alive.

anonymous asked:

do you guys have any sexting fic recs? or just like texting in general? preferably sterek but eh im flexible 😋 thanks guys!

I know you said you prefered sterek, but since you also said you were flexible I threw in a few other pairings as well. - Anastasia

Originally posted by comedycentral

Ain’t Sayin’ He’s a Gold Digger by taylorpotato

(42/42 I Explicit I Steter)

Peter and Stiles hook up on a sugar daddy dating website. Here’s the ensuing love story, told through chat screenshots and text messages

You’re Welcome In My Inbox by SushiOwl

(6/? I 48 I Explicit I Steter)

Stiles is at college and accidentally texts Peter Hale one night–instead of an entirely different Peter–and they don’t hate each other as much with a whole state between them.

Optimist Ace by LadyDrace

(1/1 I 748 I Explicit I Sterek)

Derek is asexual, Stiles is not. They make it work.

Unplanned Break by triggeringthehealing (froggydarren)

(1/1 I 1,116 I Explicit I Sterek)

Derek is at his desk in the station when his phone buzzes in his pocket. He knows before he checks it that it’s a text from Stiles, because everyone else knows and respects that Derek isn’t supposed to be texting or calling anyone on his personal phone. Especially not while Stiles’ father has a clear view of Derek’s desk, and would know exactly why Derek isn’t focused on his work. He risks opening the message anyway, and miraculously manages to not drop it or groan in frustration when he reads the text.

“What are you wearing?”

Sext It Up by Anonymous

(1/1 I 1,794 I Not Rated I Steter)

I’m bored, he typed into a new text message. He scrolled through his contacts and picked out Peter’s name. He hadn’t talked to Peter in any form other than a few niceties at pack meetings since defeating the incubus. It wasn’t so much that he didn’t want to talk to the older man, it was just never the opportune moment. He couldn’t just go up to him and say, “Hey, remember that time you fucked me for the good of the pack and it was the best orgasm I ever had? Wanna do that again?“ But if the opportune moment wouldn’t present itself, he’d just have to make one.

Chimera Needs by HeiligStern

(1/1 I 2,086 I Not Rated I Steo)

Theo has become rather insatiable after finally popping his cherry. Stiles is only happy to help though he wishes he had the Chimera’s stamina.

Something Different by dragon_temeraire

(1/1 I 2,661 I Explicit I Sterek)

Stiles is having some trouble with this whole ‘casual relationship’ thing. Especially with Derek staying at his apartment.

Drunken Confessions by ShipperExtraordinaire (PromisesOfTheDarkSide)

(1/1 I 4,801 I Mature I Melissa/Stiles)

“When your best friend gets told by his girlfriend you’re taking a break, you get your best friend drunk.”

Stiles and Scott get drunk and confess their secret lovers to each other.

Five Times Stiles Sent Scott A Dick Pic by taylorpotato

(1/1 I 4,862 I Explicit I Sciles)

Plus one time they boned.

will you love me by BabyMilk

(1/1 I 5,487 I Explicit I Steo)

Things aren’t going so well for Stiles Stilinski.
When a handsome man offers him "work”, will he take it?

until they found me by writergirl8

(1/1 I 6,112 I Explicit I Stydia)

“If you’re bored, Stiles, you can always make me come.”

She says it in a light, airy voice, as if it’s not enough to make him choke on his own spit. Which, for the record, it is. When he looks up, he sees Lydia’s eyes tracing his biceps appreciatively as he continues to crank the jack. And seriously, bless his arms for making up for the twigs that he calls legs, because without them he’s pretty sure his girlfriend would be able to outlift him.

“I’m bored,” he says immediately, setting down the jack and moving to stand up.

Wrong Number by bethesound

(9/? I 10,383 I Explicit I Sterek)

(1:17am)

Is it possible to have a mid-life crisis at 17? Because I think that’s happening right now.

(1:18am)

Who is this?

(1:19am)

Also a midlife crisis requires you to be at the mid point of your life. You’re probably experiencing what everyone experiences at 17. It’s called high school.

(1:19am)

Oh sorry man. Wrong number.

Beastly Lover by wafflesmakebabies

(15/? I 14,114 I Explicit I Sterek)

“So what does the name BeastlyLover mean anyways? Does it have something to do with the Disney movie? Are you a beast, Beast?”
“Actually, yeah. Something like that.
"Care to elaborate?
"To make it quick and to the point, it means that if you ever have the pleasure of having sex with me, I’m going to fuck you like a beast.”
“…Oh.”
“Getting shy on me, LittleRedRidingHard? Didn’t think you had it in you.”
“SHUT UP!”

-OR-

Stiles signs up for a werewolf dating site and meets someone, but who he ends up with isn’t who he expected.

Live Another Day by princess_slash

(9/? I 16,384 I Explicit I Sterek)

Another year at BHHS is upon the McCall pack. Stiles is watching everyone around him pair off and still feels the loss of all that have died. Just when he thinks there is hope for him and Lydia, Jackson rolls back into town fresh from London. Moving on from the one you thought you loved more than anyone is tough. And Derek is one of the only people to realize just how depressed Stiles is. Along the way, feelings are forged between the two. Despite all this, it seems to be a quiet time in Beacon Hills. How long can that really last?

Silver-fox Psycho by JusticeBanana

(10/10 I 31,583 I Explicit I Steter)

After the whole shebang in Mexico with Berserkers, Kate being crazy, and Peter playing triple-spy confusing the living shit out of everyone they finally get a calm moment, Stiles and Scott go to college, Peter disappears with Derek, who then, of course, comes back again, without his creepy uncle. It’s not until Stiles sees the older wolf at the library he works at that he realizes that he actually missed the zombie-wolf. And doesn’t Peter seem Very interested?

Write Me Love Notes in Glitter Glue by pibroch (littleblackdog)

(34/? I 170,238 I Explicit I Steter)

The task of the modern educator is not to cut down jungles, but to irrigate deserts.

Stiles is a single dad with two kids, and a real contempt for the status quo. Peter is a kindergarten teacher with an army of loyal little minions, and maybe a few ulterior motives.

Tale As Old As Time: A FinnRey AU

Chapter One

A/N: Okay, so I’m really nervous about posting this. This is my first fic written with two canon characters, and my first fic I’m posting publicly, so please be gentle! However, feedback would be much appreciated. This first chapter is a lot of exposition to get the plot rolling, but I promise chapter two will be much more interesting. It’s also very short, so sorry about that! Hopefully its enjoyable :)

Warnings: None :)

Word Count: 794

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